Page 69 of Trial and Error

I saw Elias interact with Olivia at lunch at his parents’ place, but watching him place kisses over her face does something to my ovaries, and I have to look away before I do something unhinged.

Like mount him like a horse or something.

Isobel starts to laugh but then winces as another contraction hits her. “We need to leave,” she groans. “Like, right now.”

Oscar sits beside her and helps her focus on her breathing. I take it upon myself to move next to her and rub small, comforting circles on her lower back. She lets out a moan as soon as I apply some pressure, and I beam, feeling useful.

When the contraction passes, Oscar and Isobel stand. Isobel grabs my arm to steady herself as Oscar walks over to the front door and picks up her hospital bag. He turns to look back at his Isobel, and I can see the concern that laces through his irises. His dark hair is longer than it was the last time I saw him and is sticking up in all directions as he runs his hands through it roughly. The bags under his eyes are puffy, and I wonder how long Isobel has been in labour for and how long he’s been trying to give her some comfort.

Oscar runs outside and is back in under a minute, taking Isobel’s hands from me and walks her toward the door. The two of them share excited yet nervous smiles as they disappear outside. Elias is holding Olivia to his chest, his gaze locked on the door, watching his brother and Isobel make their way down the front steps.

Olivia wiggles in his arms until he puts her down, and when her feet hit the ground, she makes her way toward me and tugs on my hand. She lifts her arms up and waits until I lift her. She loops her small arms around my neck and rests her head on my shoulder.

Elias close the distance between us and gently holds my elbow, pressing a kiss against my temple. “I’m going to help Oscar get Isobel in the car. Are you going to be okay with Ols?”

I nod and bounce her ever so slightly. “I’ve got her.”

He nods at my words before jogging outside, and I take Olivia over to the couch and sit down with her in my arms. She clings to me as I sit, waiting before she crawls into my lap and rest her back against my chest. She lifts my hand and places it on her lap, wrapping her small fingers around mine. There’s a pale pink blanket on the arm of the couch, and I reach across and pull it over us.

The front door closes, but I don’t bother looking over my shoulder as I keep my attention on the screen in front of me. Elias falls down onto the couch next to me and reaches over and gives Olivia’s belly and gentle poke.

“What do you want to eat, smelly?”

Olivia giggles at her uncle’s choice of a nickname. “I’m not smelly!” I laugh quietly as Elias tickles her sides. “St-stop!”

He looks down at her with the warmest of smiles and I feel my chest grow tight at the amount of love that shines in his eyes.

He’s going to make an amazing father one day.

“Do you want noodles?”

“With red sauce,” Olivia says as she pushes his hand away from her.

Elias rubs his hands on his thighs before pushing himself up from the couch. He looks down at me and holds his hand out. I place Olivia onto the cushion and tuck the blanket around her, making sure she’s cozy before I slip my hand in his.

We head into the kitchen hand in hand, and as soon as we’re in there, he takes me over and lifts me onto the counter top. Elias pulls a pack of penne pasta from the top shelf in the cabinet above the sink and sets it down next to the stove.

A dark yellow radio sits on the window and Elias turns it on, twisting the dial on the front until it lands on a station. The smooth voice of Etta James fills the room, and I find myself entranced as Elias starts to hum along.

I watch from where I’m seated at the small breakfast bar while he prepares onions and garlic for the pasta sauce. Once everything is done, he reaches into another cabinet and pulls out two wineglasses. There is a small wine rack by the stove and he grabs a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.

Elias rolls the sleeves up of his shirt and my eyes lock onto the corded muscles in his forearms. As he pulls the cork out, I notice the way his muscles move as he twists and twists until the cork releases with a subdued pop and I squeeze my thighs together at the movement.

He’s so fucking hot.

He pours us each a glass and slides one toward me. I lift it to my lips and take a small sip, the fruity yet spiced taste of wine hitting my tongue almost instantly. Black currant, tobacco, and vanilla invade my taste buds as I swallow the liquid.

Elias watches me with an intense gaze, but the look vanishes so quickly I wonder if I actually saw it at all. He takes a sip of his wine just as “I Wanna Be Yours” begins to play through the radio.

“This is one of my favourite songs,” I say, to no one in particular.

Elias sets his glass down and makes his way to me. Holding out his hand, he looks at me with a smile and says, “Dance with me.”

Without hesitation, I slip my hand in his and get down from the counter, his hand finding the small of my back immediately as he leads us over to the open space in the middle of the room. With my hand still in his, I step into him and slide my other hand up and over his shoulder, enjoying the way he relaxes under my touch.

Elias wraps his arm around my waist and rests his hand on my backside, giving it a squeeze. Our noses are touching and I can feel his steady breathing as his chest moves against my own, his warm brown eyes are trained on my face and I feel myself leaning into him.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his breath fanning across my lips. “So fucking beautiful.”