Because she ain’t asking for more, and I ain’t demanding more.
Until that baby exists, though, I’ve got her. Highs, lows, all of it. And right now, she’s hurting.
Which is why I’m loaded up with goods. Everything she enjoys:
Red wine.
Chocolate.
Cheese puffs (that stays between you and me).
Ice cream.
A cosy blanket I picked up in Washington (newsflash: turns out I can do soft).
And me (sex, included).
Not all at once. Though I wouldn’t say no. Even with cheesy crumbs. That’s where I’m at.
The elevator finally pings open and I stride out.
‘Hey Baby Girl, you better?—’
I freeze as Taylor skids into view, socked feet gliding over the pale wood floor, arms flapping in an oversized woollen sweater I already want to tear off her – and would – if she weren’t shaking her head, eyes huge, silently screaming,Stop, stop, stop.
I frown. ‘What?—’
‘Hey Baby Girl,’ comes Theo’s dry drawl.
I snap my gaze left.
He’s perched on the arm of the sofa, eyebrows halfway to heaven.
Sadie’s beside him, seconds from giggling herself unconscious.
And Lottie – the kid scrambles when she sees me, barrelling across the room like a four-year-old missile. She slams into my legs at full velocity, and I drop into a squat, switching gears instantly. ‘It’s so good to see you, Baby Girl.’
Jesus.
I think I just died a little inside.
But what else was I gonna do?
I glance up at Taylor.
She looks like she doesn’t know whether to laugh… or die right along with me.
‘Did you bwing me pwesents?’ Lottie asks, spying my bags and starting to rummage.
‘Sure did,’ I lie.
‘Lottie, darling, let Uncle G do that,’ Sadie says, hurrying up to tug her out. ‘Sorry, Ax.’
‘It’s okay,’ I tell her. ‘Though maybe not that one.’ I take the wine bottle out of Lottie’s tiny fist and pass it to Taylor.
‘Well saved,’ she mutters – and she ain’t talking about the wine.
‘I thought you were still stateside,’ Theo says, approaching at a much slower pace.
