Harry guffaws. “I’m just teasing. Everyone knows scars are cool, not just girls.”
“Eurgh, Dad!”
Harry laughs and ruffles Lucas’s hair, I head over and perch on the couch, measuring out the correct dosage of Calpol. “I love you, kiddo,” I tell Lucas.
“Love you too, Mum.”
“And I love you, Mr Forest.” I look up at Harry, who stares at me over Lucas’s head with love and adoration.
“I love you, wife.”
“Stop being gross and watch the film,” Lucas grumbles.
Harry has to burst into Jingle Bells at the top of his lungs a total of three times to wake Lucas up during the film. I’m pretty sure his nodding off is down to the excitement of the day and a sugar crash more than a concussion. The bump on his head is already looking better and the cut, once cleaned up, was a lot smaller than we initially thought. The front door opens with a cacophony of chatter and the distinct sound of Mary crying.
Rhiannon rushes past the living room, yelling something about needing to pee and Luke comes in wrangling two overtired and over stimulated toddlers.
“I don’t want to go to bed,” Margot cries while her twin begs to be allowed to go to bed.
“You’re both going to bed, immediately,” Luke says with obvious effort to keep his cool.
“Jake and Nel, didn’t want to come in,” Mum says as she comes in. “They dropped us off and have headed straight back to the hotel. Mandy, Pam, and Glen are all back there too.”
“Okay,” I say with a yawn, feeling grateful that ‘entertaining’ is done for the day.Apart for the eight people still staying with us.
“How’s my grandson?” Dad asks, patting Lucas’s knee.
“Fine,” Lucas yawns.
“Aw man, you watched a movie without me?” Oscar whines over the closing credits.
“Sorry, mate,” Harry says, pulling Oscar into his lap. “We’ll all sit and watch a movie together when everyone’s gone after Christmas, okay?”
“With popcorn?”
“Sweet and salty.”
“Deal.”
It’s late when we get into bed, after putting the boys down, Mary then refused to settle, Harry and I take it in turns walking her around the house. She finally fell asleep in his arms, and he has the magic touch of being able to put her in her cot without waking her, but we’re both extra quiet as we tip toe around each other to use the bathroom to be extra safe.
My muscles ache with relief when I sink into the soft mattress and the duvet cocoons me. Harry pulls me to him immediately and keeps me pressed against his firm chest. I wiggle to get comfortable— definitely not to torture my poor husband—my butt pressing further into his crotch.
“Lisa,” he sighs, pained.
I giggle. “I would have thought you were feeling a little better after earlier.”
“I’m not satisfied until you’re satisfied, wife.” His growl sends white-hot lightning down my spine.
“Well, I have always been very impressed with your customer service.”
I feel his smile against my neck in the pitch black of our room. One hand slowly finds its way under my pyjama shirt until he holds the weight of my breast in his palm. I feel my heartbeat in my stomach, all too aware of Mary sleeping a few feet away. Even if she woke up, she wouldn’t be able to see anything in the darkness, plus we’re both covered by the duvet to our shoulders. But I don’t want her to hear anything either, so I hold my breath to keep any sounds in.
“Breathe, Angel,” Harry whispers in my ear, his hot breath making goosebumps erupt on my skin. “Don’t want you passing out.”
“Maybe you should keep me quiet,” I suggest, barely above a whisper.
“Hmm,” he rumbles behind me. The hand at my breast comes away and clamps over my mouth, holding my head still while his other hand digs into my pyjama pants. Light, teasing strokes of his fingers over my outer lips does nothing but build frustration. He hums darkly when I wriggle my hips to get him touching me where I need him.
