by Nikki Ash
* * *
“Are you ready for your ultrasound?” the ultrasound tech asks, kicking the brakes out from under the bed and pushing it toward the door. I give Killian a look, and he smiles warmly at me. I know with him by my side, I’ll be ready for anything that comes my way.
“Yes,” I tell her, my eyes never leaving my husband who’s holding the door open for the tech so she can push me to wherever they do the ultrasounds.
When we arrive, the room is pitch black, with only a single light coming from a computer monitor. The tech rolls me next to the monitor and presses down on the brakes.
“You can sit in that chair,” she tells Killian. He thanks her and drags the chair next to me, taking my hand in his and giving the inside of my wrist a kiss.
While she types away on the computer, Killian moves a few wayward hairs out of my face and leans in to kiss my forehead.
“I’m nervous,” I admit to him.
He smiles softly. “I love you. Whatever happens, we’ll handle it together.”
“I’m going to go ahead and put this paper across your lower half, so I can lift your gown,” the tech says. Once she does so, she squeezes some warm blue goo onto my belly and begins to search for the baby. The room is quiet, and my heart begins to pick up speed. I wasn’t awake when the doctor did the ultrasound after my surgery, so I’ve yet to hear my baby’s heartbeat, and now there’s a chance I might not ever.
Just as I finish my thought, a whooshing sound fills the silence, and the tech smiles. “That’s the baby’s heartbeat. One hundred and seventy. Good, strong heartbeat.”
She explains that with me only being ten weeks along, there’s not much to see. According to her, our baby is the size of a strawberry. I laugh absently at what she says, but the only thing I can really focus on is the continuous whooshing sound. Our baby has a heartbeat. He, or she, is alive in there.
I look over to Killian, and he has tears streaming down his face. Lifting my hand to his cheek, I wipe one of the tears and say, “When I used to read fairytales, I fancied that kind of thing never happened, and now here I am in the middle of one.”
Killian’s shoulders shake with laughter as his tears fall faster. “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Chapter four: The Rabbit Sends in a Little Bill.”
“You really did read the book,” I say back through my own laughter and tears.
Epilogue
Killian
Two months later
“We could have this if you want,” I tell Giselle as we sway to the music on the dance floor. We’re at Olivia and Nick’s wedding reception, and Giselle has sighed and gushed over every detail. Apparently, a pregnant Giselle is an emotional Giselle. She seems to shed tears—happy and sad—over everything, from what to eat, to seeing a baby playing at the park, and it’s absolutely adorable. She’s been reading every book imaginable about what to expect when she has the baby, and she’s even been seeing a therapist to discuss how she’s feeling. She’s facing her fears head on, and I’m so damn proud of her for that. She’s eighteen weeks pregnant, and we found out a couple days ago we’re having a girl. Olivia and Nick are having one as well, and the women are now hell-bent on them becoming best friends.
“I loved our wedding,” Giselle murmurs. “I don’t want what other people have. I want what we have.” She kisses me softly then rests her head on my chest. It’s well past midnight and almost everyone has retreated back to their rooms. Olivia and Nick are on their way to Florida for their honeymoon. Although, I’m not sure you can call it a honeymoon when they’re bringing Reed and going to Disney.
I can tell Giselle is getting tired on her feet, but she insisted on one more dance before we head up to our room. We could’ve driven back to our house from the Hamptons, but I thought a weekend away would be nice, and plus, there’s a surprise waiting for Giselle when we return in the morning.
“I need to use the restroom,” she says. When she leans in, she whispers, “Meet me in the bathroom in three minutes.” My dick twitches at her words, and I can’t help my grin. My pregnant wife is always horny, which suits me just fine. I watch, as she saunters toward the bathroom, and begin to count down the seconds until I’m inside of her. While I’m waiting, my phone vibrates in my pocket, so I check to see who it is. It’s from Sarah, and it’s only one word: Done
* * *
Giselle
I scurry across the dance floor toward the bathroom to make sure it’s empty. I’ve been craving to have Killian inside me all night, and I can’t wait another minute. I’ve already seen the Yacht Club’s bathroom, and it’s more extravagant than most homes!
When I open the bathroom door and step inside, there are three stalls. I need to make sure they’re all empty. I’m not even three steps in when I hear grunting and moaning. I stop in place, shocked. Apparently someone else had the same idea we did. Just as I’m about to turn around and give them their privacy, I hear, “Fuck, Celeste.” My hand covers my mouth to silence my gasp. Is Celeste having sex in here? And with who? It couldn’t be…
The door swings open, and in walks Killian. He locks the door and stalks toward me like a man on a mission. “Shh…” I put my finger up to my lips. “Someone is in here. We need to go.” His brows go up, and he takes my hand to guide us out of the bathroom. But before the door opens, Celeste moans out, “Yes, right there!”
“Is that?” Killian whispers, and I stifle a giggle, nodding my head. We exit the bathroom quietly, and then I answer him, “Yeah, Celeste is totally having bathroom sex!”
“Goddamn.” Killian laughs. “I guess I’ll just have to wait until I get you up to our room to get between your thighs.” He pulls me close and gives me a kiss.
* * *
Killian
The next morning, after stopping for breakfast, we head home. Once we arrive, Giselle heads straight back to her mom’s suite. She always does. The therapist they’re seeing together says it’ll take time before Giselle feels comfortable enough to not check on her mom. When it’s late at night, she just peeks in, but when it’s earlier, she’ll hang out and they’ll have coffee or tea together. They’re finally getting the relationship they’ve longed for.
About twenty minutes later, she returns, and I hear her call my name when she doesn’t find me in our room. I hear her feet padding down the hallway as she searches for me. When she finally gets to the last door on the left, she turns the knob and enters. “Killian!” Her hands come up to her mouth as she takes in the nursery.
“When did you do this?” She steps farther into the room and takes in all the Alice in Wonderland décor. When I got ahold of her Pinterest page, I hired her boss, Lydia, to decorate it. Giselle has been busy since she got her promotion, and I wanted her to enjoy the fruits of the labor instead of her having to do the labor herself.
“It’s beautiful,” she coos. Her hand glides over the mahogany wood crib and stops to feel the bedding. She eyes the walls which have been transformed into scenes from the book with floor-to-ceiling trees and animals having tea parties.
“It’s exactly how I imagined it would look,” she says, coming over to me when she’s done checking it all out. “Thank you.” She stands on her tippy-toes and gives me a kiss.
“I’d like to take the credit, but Lydia did all the hard work.” I take her hand in mine and guide her to our room. Pulling my shirt off, I throw it onto the dresser.
Giselle comes up behind me and wraps her arms around my waist. I look down at her tiny fingers before I pull her around to face me. “Not just for the room, Kill,” she says. “Thank you for loving me…broken and all.”
I unzip then lift the yellow sundress Giselle is wearing over her head. Then take a moment to appreciate all of her new curves pregnancy has brought with it. I can’t help it. Every time I get her naked, I have to stop and see if she’s grown any more. I love watching our baby growing inside her. I place kisses along her neck and down her collar bone. She moans when my lips suck on her tender breasts. Picking her up
carefully, I move her to the center of our bed. Hovering over her, I begin to worship my wife’s body. Her breasts, her soft stomach, making my way down to her wet cunt. I give it a kiss before I make my way back up to her lips, giving her a hard kiss before I back up slightly, needing to look into her beautiful blue eyes.
“I already told you, babe. I’m in deep. There’s nobody I’d rather be broken with than you.”
The End!
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It doesn’t have to be long or fancy.
Just a few words would be the world to me.
(Keep reading for an excerpt from On The Surface—coming June 22nd)
Nick and Olivia’s story
Other books by Nikki Ash
All books can be read as standalones
The Fighting Series
Fighting for a Second Chance (Secret baby)
Fighting with Faith (Secret baby)
Fighting for Your Touch
Fighting for Your Love (Single mom)
Fighting ‘round the Christmas Tree: A Fighting Series Novella
Fighting Love Series
Tapping Out (Secret baby)
Clinched (Single dad)
Takedown (Single mom)
Stand-alone Novels
Bordello (Mob romance)
Knocked Down (Single dad)
Unbroken Promises (Friends to lovers MFM/MF/MM)
Heath (Modern telling)
Imperfect Love Series
The Pickup (Secret baby)
Going Deep (Enemies to Lovers)
On The Surface
An excerpt from On The Surface
One
Celeste
“Two weeks until I’m finally Mrs. Shaw,” Olivia squeals loud enough that the patrons sitting at the table next to us look over. Her hands clasp together in excitement as her eyes run along everyone at the table and land on her fiancé, Nicholas Shaw, who is known to most as the newly retired quarterback from the New York Brewers. To me, though, he’s my childhood best friend. Despite our four-year age difference, I’ve spent the last two decades following Nick around while he’s chased his dream of playing pro ball, and I’ve chased mine of becoming a model. There was even a short span of time when we almost got married—a stupid decision on both our parts, stemmed from a teenage pact in a moment of weakness.
Of course, that was all before he met Olivia, who swooped in with her sweet and adorable self and stole his heart—while simultaneously winning me over and becoming one of the few people I call a friend. She and Nick are expecting their second baby in September. Their son, Reed, is eighteen months old, and at home with his grandparents tonight.
In response to what Olivia says, Nick snakes his arm around her shoulders in a protective manner and pulls her into his side with a wide grin. His lips press against hers softly in a loving gesture, and I’m almost positive they’ve just given me a cavity from all the sweetness that’s radiating off them.
“Which means a bachelorette party is in order!” Olivia’s best friend, Giselle, states. She’s also pregnant—due in November—and someone I consider a friend. Her husband, Killian Blake—who is a receiver for the Brewers—also wraps his arm around his wife and pulls her in for a kiss. Only theirs is more intense, more passionate. I can’t help but watch as things between them get heated. It’s one of those kisses where you want to look away to give them their privacy, but you can’t stop watching. Yep! I’ve definitely got a cavity, maybe two. It isn’t until Nick clears his throat that they come up for air. Giselle’s face is bright red—not sure if it’s out of embarrassment over their public display of affection, or if she’s turned on—either way, she’s completely captivated by her husband.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Olivia’s nose scrunches up, and she shakes her head. “I’m half-baked.” She points to her protruding belly. “And you’re pregnant too.” She eyes Giselle. “The only person who’ll actually get to party is Celeste!” She laughs and shoots me a soft smile.
My gaze goes to my—and I use the term loosely—boyfriend, Chad Vacanti. Chad is forty-five years old and the VP for the investment banking firm he’s a partner in. We met at a function we were both attending and hit it off. Shortly after, I left for the UK to promote my new clothing line that went international. Apparently, he had some business over there as well and reached out. We spent several weeks together—when we weren’t both working eighteen-hour days—and decided to keep things going when we returned. It’s worked out well for both of us—giving us someone to attend functions with and get lost in after long days of work. He’s a lot like me and knows the score, so there aren’t any hurt feelings. Chad’s nearly twenty years my senior, which is the way I prefer it. Older men tend to have their shit together and are far more mature than the guys my age.
“And it will stay that way,” I say with conviction in response to Olivia’s comment. Chad looks up from his phone as I finish saying the words, completely focused on work and having no clue what the conversation is about.
“What will stay what way?” he questions—apparently he’s somewhat good at multitasking—good to know he at least hears me when I speak.
“My getting pregnant.” His eyes go wide in fear, completely misunderstanding. “That I won’t be getting pregnant anytime soon,” I clarify, and he lets out a harsh sigh of relief, like having a baby with me would be the absolute worst thing in the world. It’s not as if I would want to have kids with him—or with anyone for that matter—but Jesus, does he have to look so relieved?
Taking a bite of my shrimp salad, I try to ignore the four pairs of eyes staring at me—not including Chad’s as his are already back on his phone. It’s no secret I’m the odd one out in our group of friends. Unlike Olivia and Giselle, who are both happily doing their part to add to the ever-growing human race, I have no desire to ever procreate. I have one goal in this life. To make something of myself. Which I happen to think I’m doing a damn good job at. I’ve learned over the years that independence is the key to a woman’s success. While Chad is decent in bed and someone I can talk business with, he’ll never be anything more than that. I don’t need him or any man for that matter. I push back the thoughts of the one guy I allowed myself to need and how that turned out…with my heart broken, and my future nearly destroyed.
“I still say we need to throw a party!” Giselle insists. “We can do a combined bachelor and bachelorette party at an upscale club.” She stops talking, so I look up, and she’s giving Olivia the stink-eye. “And not at a strip club.”
A loud laugh escapes me as I remember not too long ago, when Olivia convinced Nick to take her to Assets, a high-end strip club. I thought he was going to kill me when I surprised her with a lap dance. The poor guy wasn’t sure whether to be turned-on or upset that his fiancée was thoroughly enjoying another woman grinding on her.
“No, not at a strip club,” Olivia agrees. “But it would be fun for all of us to go out and have a good time before we get married.” She looks to Nick, who of course nods in agreement. She could tell him she wants him to participate in a shit-eating contest and the guy would nod in agreement if it meant making her happy.
“Mind if I invite Jase?” Killian asks, and it doesn’t go unnoticed that his gaze quickly meets mine before he looks away. The hairs on the back of my neck stand at the mention of that name. Jase Crawford. The one who… I shake myself out of my thoughts, refusing to even finish that sentence. He doesn’t deserve a place in my thoughts, in my head, in my… Nope, not going there. He’s nothing more than a mistake from my past. A lesson learned the hard way.
“I saw him yesterday,” Killian says, “while getting some work done. The guy seems like he doesn’t get out much.”
“Of course!” Olivia speaks for Nick. “He’s actually invited to the wedding.” Her hand comes up and rests on top of Nick’s. “After we ran into him on Giselle’s birthday, he and Nick have been keeping in touch again. Jax and Quinn are both invited as
well.” Jax and Quinn are Jase’s brother and sister. They own a tattoo shop here in New York called Forbidden Ink. We went there the night of Giselle’s birthday so she and Olivia could get their first tattoo. Olivia chickened out, but Giselle ended up getting a beautiful quote along her upper back just below her nape.
“How many people are coming?” I ask, trying to remain calm, even though the reality of having to see Jase at the wedding has me feeling anything but calm. “I thought you were keeping it small and intimate.” Nick doesn’t speak to his parents, which only leaves Olivia’s family and their friends. She didn’t want something huge, which could easily happen since Nick’s a four-time Super Bowl champion, and Olivia’s dad is an NFL coach, and her mom—who is no longer alive—was a huge international model.
“Only about a hundred and fifty people. We’re still keeping it small.” She gives me a questioning look. “Jase isn’t in the wedding party if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m not,” I say far too quickly. Everyone’s gaze swings to me—except Chad, who’s still typing away on his phone. “I’m not,” I repeat in a tone that makes it clear to drop whatever they’re all thinking. It makes sense Jase and his siblings are invited since Nick has been friends with him since high school.
“I like your new hair color,” Olivia says, changing the subject. “It makes you look less…harsh.”
“Less like an evil witch?” I wink, and she laughs. When Olivia and I first met, Nick referred to me as the evil witch in their story, and I’ve yet to live the nickname down. So, I figure, if I can’t beat ‘em, might as well join them. But she’s right, the black hair gave me an edgier look, which is what the modeling agency I used to be signed with was going for. Since I’m no longer signed with anyone, and I’m free to do as I want with my hair, I dyed it back to my original color—a brownish shade with hints of auburn mixed in.
