by Amiee Louise
“Are you sure you’re all right, sugar? You look pale; come, sit.” He guides me to the sofa and sits me down. He crouches in front of me. “Do you need me to get you anything?”
I look at him and smile at his concern. “A glass of water would be great, please.”
He nods, and as he gets to his feet, the door closes, and Sam strides across the apartment. He takes Cole’s place crouching in front of me. His face is marred with concern, and a frown line jumps into place on his forehead.
“Angel, is everything OK?” I am suddenly sick of being asked if I’m OK. I go to rise from the sofa and fall back down as another dizzy spell takes hold of me. “Jesus, angel.”
I look at him.
“I’m just tired, babe, that’s all, it’s been nonstop at the shop lately.”
“I’m taking you to our room, baby; you look like you could use a lie-down.”
“I’m fine, babe, I promise, I just need you to hold me for a while. I’ve missed you.”
He smiles and nods. He picks me up and carries me into the bedroom. He sets me down on my feet and moves me so he can look at me.
“God, you’re beautiful.” He strokes my face and tucks my hair behind my ear. “I have a surprise for you, angel.”
I raise my eyebrows, and he smirks mischievously. We both stand facing each other, and he strips off his t-shirt. I lick my lips as he reveals his perfectly ripped torso.
“Don’t get any ideas, angel,” he rasps. He throws his t-shirt on the bed and looks at me. “Do you see that?”
He points to a spot above his right pectoral and there in bold, flowing script is a tattoo of my name ‘Peyton’ with two elaborate black and grey angel wings either side.
“That’s how much I love you, angel. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, you’re my good luck charm, my angel; you are my life, my whole world. You own me.”
My eyes glaze over at his words, and I can’t believe he has my name permanently etched on his skin. I trace over the lines of his tattoo, and I lose it completely. I collapse in floods of tears in his arms, mentally cursing my hormones to hell.
“Hey, what’s with the tears, babe?” he soothes. “Shhh.” He kisses my forehead, and I snuggle closer to his warm chest. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you, angel.”
I don’t doubt for a second that he means every word. We spend the rest of the day catching up and spending some quality time together. I have missed being in his presence—it calms and soothes me. By the time the evening rolls around, we order takeaway and snuggle on the sofa. After we finish eating, I literally fall asleep in Sam’s lap; I didn’t realise how tired I was. I am only aware of him lifting me from the sofa and carrying me effortlessly to his bedroom. I am awake as he lays me down on the bed.
“I’ve got you, angel.”
I shake my head. “It’s fine, baby.”
I smile, and he kisses me gently on the lips. I get up and go to the walk-in wardrobe. I take out one of Sam’s oversized Rancid Vengeance t-shirts that I have become accustomed to. I go into the bathroom and close the door, not wanting him to see me naked. I take off my dress and quickly pull on Sam’s t-shirt—he doesn’t knock, and he opens the door.
“Hey, what’s with the closed door, babe? You’re not normally so shy about getting undressed in front of me. Is something wrong? Have I done something?”
“Everything’s perfect, babe, I’ve just put on a little weight since you’ve been away. Too many late nights at work, too many takeaways, and too much Ben and Jerry’s. I should get back to the gym.”
I smile, but something in the way he looks at me says he knows something is wrong and he doesn’t believe me for a second. I brush my teeth and tie my hair in a loose ponytail. I go back into the bedroom, and Sam pats the bed.
“I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep, angel, I’ve got some unpacking to do, and I’ve got some stuff that needs taking care of, but I’ll be in soon.”
He lies next to me, and I fall asleep in his arms.
***
I’m not sure how long I have been asleep, but I wake up screaming to Sam softly calling my name.
“Peyton, wake up, baby, you’re having a nightmare.”
He strokes my hair. My breathing is laboured, and I have a thin sheen of sweat forming on my forehead.
“Jesus, angel, I’m here. Are you OK? You scared the shit out of me,” he says quietly.
He goes to pull me into him, and I flinch as if he has burned me. I can’t do this. I jump out of bed and run into the bathroom. I slam the door and lock it behind me. I slide down the wall and onto the floor in a hysterical sobbing heap, with the remnants of my nightmare still clinging to me. Sam rattles the doorknob.
“Angel, fuck! Open the door, please talk to me.”
I sob hard. I am shaken by the nightmare and realise it has been such a long time since that particular nightmare has haunted me. Except it wasn’t Callum, it was Sam, and the image of that cold green gaze makes me sob harder. I pull my knees up to my chest.
“The door’s coming down if you don’t open it, angel.” His voice is soft. “I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me, babe.”
I hear him sit down outside the door.
“Please just go away,” I choke out.
“Not happening, baby, I’ll sit out here all night if I have to.”
A few minutes of silence pass.
“Do you want to tell me what your nightmare was about, angel?”
As he says those words, something inside me just snaps, I really can’t do this. He is going to run; I just know he is. I can’t put myself through that; my heart has been trampled on enough. I shakily get myself to my feet and lean on the sink. I look at my reflection in the mirror—my face is pale, my eyes are red, and my hair is sleep mussed. I pull my hair loose, run a brush through it and splash cold water on my face. I unlock the door; Sam is sat outside leaning against the wall, shirtless, and wearing only a pair of tight grey boxer briefs. He stands up as I open the door and reaches his hand out to me. I know if I touch him, I will give in and talk myself out of the decision I have made. I need to get out of here, and I need to get out now. I push past him and run into the living room. Sam is following me.
“Fuck, where are you going, angel?” His voice is panicked, but I don’t answer him. I frantically start throwing my stuff back into my overnight bag. “Peyton, will you just fucking stop for one god damn second!”
He makes me stop in front of him, and he tilts my chin up to face him. I look into his eyes.
“Don’t leave me, angel.”
I shake my head. “I can’t do this anymore Sam, being with you is unpredictable. Every time I’m near you I lose myself.”
I swipe the stray tear that has escaped from my eye. Be strong, Harper.
“Why are you doing this? What have I done? Tell me what I’ve done, and I’ll fix it, I’ll make it right.”
I force myself to look at him, and as I see the look in his green eyes, my heart breaks.
“I thought we were OK, please stop and fucking talk to me. Please don’t run from me, tell me you’ll stay.” His voice is broken. I move closer to him, and he reaches for my hand. I let him take it, and he strokes my knuckles softly. “What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”
I release my hand from his grip and put my hands to my face. I sob.
“Jesus, please don’t cry, what can I do? Tell me what I can do, angel.”
I try to gather myself. “This is all such a fucking mess, Sam, and it’s all my fault.”
He shakes his head. “Everything’s going to be OK as long we have each other; I’m not going anywhere I promise you, angel.” He moves towards me, and he pulls me into his hard chest. I cling to him and sob as he holds me close. “Tell me what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours, angel,” he whispers.
Then Ruby’s words start to echo in my mind, “Sam isn’t Callum, babe; he’ll stand by you no matter what because he worships you. That boy would walk through hell
for you; any fool can see that except for you.”
I take a deep calming breath and look up at him, my blue eyes locking on his green ones. Here goes nothing.
“I-I’m pregnant,” I choke out, waiting for his reaction. Waiting for the inevitable to happen where he walks out and leaves me. He doesn’t say anything at first, and I start to tremble with fear in his arms.
“Hey, shush, I’ve got you, angel,” he soothes. “You’re pregnant, wow!”
The biggest dimpled grin spreads across his handsome face. He cups my face in his hands and presses his lips to mine.
“Angel, you have just made me the happiest fucking man to walk this earth! I’m going to be a dad!”
A feeling of relief washes over me like a tsunami. I sag in Sam’s hold; he releases me and holds me at arm’s length.
“You thought I was going to leave didn’t you, angel?” he says so softly I barely hear him. “Look at me, baby.” I look up at him and nod, my eyes brimming with tears. “How could you think that, angel? After everything we’ve been through?”
“I don’t know I just panicked. I was terrified.”
“I’m not going anywhere; you’re stuck with me.” He smiles his dazzling smile and his green eyes sparkle. He lifts up my t-shirt and strokes my bump gently. “How far gone are you?”
I watch his hand trace my small bump; I put my hand over his and smile.
“Twelve weeks.”
He takes a breath, curses to himself, and walks over to the balcony. He pulls open the doors and drops down on the lounger. He is visibly annoyed, and I don’t blame him for one second, I follow him.
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me, angel? That night you told me about Callum I promised you if that ever happened to us I would stand by you.”
He scrubs his hands down his face. I hang my head, and I actually feel ashamed that I have kept this baby a secret for almost three whole months. Three months where he could have supported me, through the morning sickness, and through the hospital appointments. That thought makes me burst into tears again, and Sam wraps me in his strong arms.
“Shhh, it’s going to be all right, angel. I promise we’ll be a family. The three of us, you, me, and our little rock star!”
He laughs.
“What if it’s a girl?”
Sam cups my cheek and kisses me on the end of my nose.
“Then she is not leaving our house until she is at least thirty and I’m not letting any boys near her!” We both laugh, and I let out a yawn, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Tired, angel?”
I nod. He picks me up and carries me into the bedroom.
“I can walk you know; I do have legs!”
He laughs.
“I know, but you’re carrying precious cargo!”
I chuckle softly. He sets me down gently on the bed and lies down next to me. He pulls my back to his chest and wraps his arms around me. He gently rests his hand on my stomach and snuggles into my back. At that moment, I know everything is going to be all right. We will be a proper family and finally get our happily ever after.
13
Peyton
The next morning, I turn over to find Sam’s side of the bed empty and my phone ringing. I look at the clock—eight AM. Who could be calling me at this hour? I reach for my phone and see Lori’s name flash up on my screen. Why would Sam’s mum be calling me? I swipe my finger across the screen and answer with curiosity.
“Hello?” I try not to sound like she has just woke me up.
“Peyton, good morning, sweetie. I hope I didn’t wake you,” she says in her familiar cheery American drawl, and I clear my throat.
“No, of course not, Lori, is everything OK?”
She pauses. “Yes, everything’s fine, honey, I’m just calling to remind you and Sam that I’ve organised a birthday dinner for him.”
I knew Sam’s birthday was coming up, but he hasn’t mentioned anything. I am silent for a moment, and Lori chuckles.
“Let me guess, he hasn’t mentioned it? He is a little sensitive that it’s his thirtieth birthday.”
I smile. Typical Sam.
“He hasn’t mentioned it, but we would love to come.”
“Fabulous, darling. It’s on Saturday before the boys fly out to Vegas on Sunday. I was just calling to invite your parents, brother, sister, and that lovely boss of yours, Sebastian, too.”
I find myself smiling that our families are finally going to get to meet each other.
“That sounds really great, Lori.”
“The boys are all coming, Cole, Amy, Milo and Seth from Marley’s band. It going to be quite a gathering, I’m getting the caterers in.”
I start thinking to myself that it isn’t any normal gathering and what do I get for the man who has everything for his birthday?
“Wow, that sounds amazing, Lori.”
“Tell Sam I’ll call him later, sweetie, and I’ll see you on Saturday.”
“See you on Saturday, bye.”
I hang up, and Sam walks into the bedroom with a pair of dark jeans hanging off his narrows hips, a black t-shirt that clings to his muscles. His hair is wet from a recent shower, and he is barefoot. He is clutching a mug of coffee, and he leans in the doorway.
“Good morning, beautiful, how are you and our little rock star this morning?”
I chuckle softly. “Good morning handsome, we’re all good, thanks.”
I rub my stomach and suddenly feel a wave of nausea hit me. I leap up off the bed and run into the bathroom. I sink to my knees and throw up in the toilet. Sam is instantly at my side rubbing my back soothingly and holding my hair out of my face.
“Jesus, are you all right, angel?”
I manage to nod.
“I’ll be fine babe, honestly, just morning sickness, that’s all.”
Unexpectedly, I hear a woman’s voice. “Sam, are you here, sugar?”
I recognise it as Amy, Cole’s fiancée. Shit. The last thing I want is for someone to see me throwing up and putting two and two together, especially since we haven’t told our families about the baby yet.
“She is bringing my washing back that’s all, angel; she has a key in case of emergencies,” he says, as if to clarify my unspoken question. I hear tiny footsteps running through the apartment.
“Uncle Sammy!”
Addison’s voice shouts and Sam chuckles.
“I’ll be right back, angel, I promise.”
He steps out of the bathroom and blocks the doorway with his large frame.
“Hello, beautiful!”
Sam scoops Addison up in his arms and she giggles. It makes me wonder what Sam will be like with our baby, and it warms my heart that we’re going to be parents to a little me or little Sam.
“Found him, Mummy!” she shouts and looks over Sam’s shoulder at me on my knees practically hugging the toilet. Nice.
“Is Aunty Peyton sick Uncle Sammy?”
Sam swings her around.
“Aunty Peyton isn’t feeling well right now, Princess, so we have to be really quiet.” Sam lowers his voice and put his finger to her lips. “Shhh, can you be a quiet little mouse while Aunty Peyton is sick?” She nods. “Good girl.”
He kisses her on the end of her nose, and he strides out of the bedroom with her in his arms. Twenty minutes later, I feel the sickness starting to wear off, splash my face with cold water, brush my teeth, and run a brush through my sleep-mussed hair. I pull on a cream jumper with a black &? Logo across the front and a pair of loose-fitting black jeans. I walk through the apartment and into the kitchen where Amy is perched on a stool drinking coffee with Sam. She always looks immaculately dressed, with her flawless coffee coloured skin and wide eyes. Her curly black hair sets off her tall, slim frame dressed in a black pencil skirt, a pink silk camisole, and black heels. She looks like a catwalk model. Sam has Addison sitting quietly on his lap with her colouring book and crayons.
“Hey, hon, are you feeling better? Sam said you weren’t feeling too good?” Her voice is fi
lled with concern. I smile and nod.
“Yeah, I’m good thanks, Amy. I feel much better now.”
She eyes me suspiciously and Addison tugs on Sam’s t-shirt.
“Uncle Sammy, can you take me to look at your shiny bikes?”
Sam laughs.
“You had better ask your mummy, baby girl.”
Sam turns his green eyes onto Amy, and she rolls her eyes.
