Strength

by Daws, Amy

  Finally, Tanner releases Booker from his grip, and Booker stands up while sheepishly adding, “Are you pleased, Vi?”

  Vi lets out a garbled laugh, tears I hadn’t even seen forming spilling out of her eyes as she ruffles Booker’s hair. “I’m completely overcome.”

  “That’s good, right?” Tanner stupidly asks.

  Vi nods. “Yes. It’s very good, Tan.”

  The next couple of hours include lots of laughs, lots of happy tears, and some ridiculous baby games that Tanner and Camden found on Google—one of which includes sampling various unmarked jars of baby food and identifying the flavours, and scoring each other to see how many we get correct. Tanner makes our stomachs churn when he greedily polishes off the remaining jars of food like he hasn’t eaten in weeks.

  “What?” he baulks from his seat bedside Gareth, who’s staring daggers at him. “These mashed peas are healthy!”

  “God, you’re embarrassing,” Camden says running his hand through his hair as he bows his head in shame.

  “Who am I embarrassing you in front of?” Tanner mumbles around a tiny baby spoon in his mouth. “It’s just us here!”

  “Your soul should be embarrassed of you,” Booker replies, his nose wrinkled in disgust.

  Tanner simply shrugs and grabs another jar while Vi laughs and laughs. It’s a beautiful sight. But it’s her brothers who laugh the hardest when Vi decides to claim her cupcake in the middle of some baby quiz we’re all taking.

  Without a word, Vi sets down her quiz, leans forward from her spot on the sofa, and grabs a pink frosted cupcake from the tray. She brings it to her mouth and delicately swipes her tongue across the top, careful not to actually eat any of the frosting. She sets it back in its place on the coffee table and resumes her quiz.

  We all stare at her in confused silence.

  She finally looks up. “What?”

  Camden is the first to reply. “Mind telling us what that was all about?” he asks, gesturing to the recently saliva’d cupcake.

  She shrugs her shoulders and replies, “Bacon Sandwich Rule. I licked it, so it’s mine.”

  Her brothers burst into laughter while I quizzically watch them all high-five their sister. It appears to be a student-surpassed-the-teacher moment that I certainly don’t need the details of to enjoy the show of them all laughing together.

  After her brothers leave, I sit at the kitchen island drinking in my beautiful fiancée who’s currently standing at the kitchen sink, barefoot and pregnant. Call me barbaric, but there’s something really fucking perfect about the image in front of me, and I’m not ashamed to admit it.

  “Are you ready for your final surprise?” I ask, interrupting Vi as she hums a tune to herself.

  “There’s more?” she asks, drying her hands and turning to look at me.

  I nod and lift up a white scarf of hers with a waggle of my brows. Her eyes darken because this is the same scarf that we’ve used in the bedroom.

  “Head out of the gutter, Bunny,” I state, my voice deep and warning.

  “That’s impossible around you, Hayden.” She smiles and rubs her belly. “These pregnancy hormones don’t help matters.”

  I shake my head and walk over to her. “I really hope those don’t go away after the baby is born because I quite like my horny fiancée.”

  She giggles and takes the scarf from my hand as her eyes drop down to my groin. I hurry to blindfold her before I forget about the surprise and end up taking her to bed instead.

  Carefully, I walk her toward the balcony doorway that we concealed behind a giant banner so she wouldn’t see the surprise until after her brothers left. I pull down the obnoxious “It’s a Girl” sign and slide open the door, gently helping her walk over the threshold and into the night air.

  “Stay right here,” I whisper, leaving her to hustle around Bruce and over to the outlets to plug in all the lighting.

  “What are you doing?” Vi asks, her head turning into the new lighting shining through the scarf.

  “Patience, Bunny. Patience.”

  She harrumphs with annoyance. “If you’re drawing me a bubble bath with the intention of leaving me to relax by myself, I’m going to be a very rude rabbit.”

  I chuckle at her tone. “It’d be hard to draw you a bath on the balcony.”

  “Semantics,” she murmurs, crossing her arms over her chest.

  Once I am certain that everything is perfect, I stride over to stand behind her. My hands wrap around her waist, stroking her swollen belly. The belly that I’ve loved watching grow these last several months.

  Vi’s head falls back onto my chest, her hands wrapping around mine as I feel our daughter kicking inside of her. It’s still as miraculous today as it was the first time I felt her move. Since then, there hasn’t been a single day that’s gone by that I don’t touch the life we created together.

  I rest my chin on Vi’s shoulder and inhale the scent of her hair while murmuring in her ear, “I know you’ve hated not being able to climb the ladder to sit up on our rooftop garden lately, so I had Vincent help me bring your oasis down here.”

  I untie the scarf and step aside to watch her take in the newly decorated balcony that went from a simple slab with a few lounge chairs to a stunning secret garden. Vincent brought in some small trees in planters that are elaborately decorated with twinkle lights. There are loads of colourful pots overflowing with blooms that are situated around the lounge chairs. In the corners are large leafy arrangements that have a tropical feel to them. On the ground, he added some fuzzy rugs and throw pillows that bring more colour and cosiness to the entire area.

  “This is my baby present to you, Vi,” I state as her jaw remains dropped and her eyes wide.

  “I thought you hate Vincent,” she says with disbelief in her voice.

  I smile and shrug. “The bloke knows what he’s doing.”

  She giggles and shakes her head. “I’ve been trying to tell you that.”

  She walks into the space, rubbing her belly as she takes everything in with wide, sparkling eyes. Off in the corner is a smaller version of the round sofa bed she has on the roof with a small running water fountain beside it.

  She turns on her heel and places her hands on her hips. “Get over here, Hayden,” she says with a sternness to her voice that I quite like.

  I quirk my brow and do as I’m told because there’s not much that can keep me away from her these days. I slide my hands around her waist as she twines her fingers behind my neck and presses her firm belly against me.

  She pulls my forehead down to hers and says with a happy sigh, “You never cease to amaze me.”

  “Are you joking?” I reply with a haughty tone. “You’re the one doing all the work.” I rub the sides of her belly affectionately, impressed by how she manages it all the way she does.

  “It’s not work to love you, Hayden,” she replies, her voice trembling with emotion. “It’s like breathing.”

  My heart thunders inside my chest because surly she can see that she’s given me my life back. Surely she knows that having her with me makes life worth living.

  “Marry me, Vi.” I repeat the words I said to her several months ago.

  She laughs. “You know I will, Hayden.”

  “Marry me now,” I urge.

  “Who will officiate?”

  “Bruce.”

  “He does have a way with words.” She giggles and then cups my cheeks to look into my eyes. “Marrying you will be the happiest day of my life, Hayden. But not now. We’re having a baby and life is so wonderful. We are perfect right now. Let’s just enjoy it and worry about the wedding business later.”

  I purse my lips together and drop a chaste kiss on her forehead. “As long as your forever is mine, Bunny.”

  She looks up at me with a smile. “Always, My Hayden. Always.”

  The End…

  …but not really, because the Harris Brothers Series is now live and complete! Dive into the first brother’s book, Challenge, or
read on for a sneak peek!

  Bonus Epilogue Alert!

  If you’ve read the Harris Brothers Series, you may be interested in a bonus Hayden and Vi epilogue available to all of my newsletter subscribers. This epilogue has never been published before, so before you sign up, be warned there may be some Harris Brothers spoilers.

  Sign up here and we’ll email you the link!

  Prepare for some swoons!!!

  MORE BOOKS BY AMY DAWS

  The London Lovers:

  Becoming Us: Finley’s Story Part 1

  A Broken Us: Finley’s Story Part 2

  London Bound: Leslie’s Story

  Not the One: Reyna’s Story

  A London Lovers/Harris Brothers Crossover Novel:

  Strength: Vi Harris & Hayden’s Story

  The Harris Brothers Series:

  A spin-off series featuring the football-playing Harris Brothers!

  Challenge: Camden’s Story

  Endurance: Tanner’s Story

  Keeper: Booker’s Story

  Surrender & Dominate: Gareth’s Duet

  Wait With Me: A Tire Shop Rom Com

  Pointe of Breaking: A College Dance Standalone by Amy Daws & Sarah J. Pepper

  Chasing Hope: A Mother’s True Story of Loss, Heartbreak,

  and the Miracle of Hope

  For all retailer purchase links, visit:

  www.amydawsauthor.com

  First and foremost, I need to acknowledge those who suffer from depression and suicidal tendencies every day and continue to get up and live life and feel all the damn feels. Living in Hayden’s world for this book was an extremely eye-opening experience, and I was honoured to tell his story. I felt every word I wrote, and he became a real person to me in so many ways. Please continue to feel, continue to screw up, continue to be mad, happy, sad…everything! Feeling anything, good or bad, is living. And know that despite what your depression tells you, there’s always someone who loves you. Let yourself feel that!

  A huge, tremendous thanks to my editor, Stephanie Rose. We made a splash together, girl! Seriously, you’ve been there for me since the creation of Hayden in London Bound and I twittered-stalked you into submission. Let’s keep rippling books together.

  My London Lovers Fan Group. You ladies have been calling Hayden yours for ages, and I hope I did him justice for you. Thanks for the constant network of cheerleading and support and for tolerating all the times I want to puke from anxiety or make out with you from excitement. You guys embrace my crazy and make this job freaking fun as hell.

  I had a great team of beta readers early on with this book whom I can’t begin to thank enough. Hayden upped the stakes and I needed you all. Jaci no K, thanks for the early chapter reading/cheerleading. My favourite British perv, Belinda, for your countless replies to my British queries. Your dirty mind speaks to my soul. To my PA, Julia for doing everything I ask…I can’t wait to ask you to strip sometime just to see if you’ll do it. To my timeline-keeper-extraordinaire, Kelly. To Sayjil, Erin, Abby, Nikki Groom, and Kirsty for sharing their very personal thoughts and feelings on this story with me. Thank you! And thanks to my proofers, Mercedes, Becca, Jen, Donna, and Teresa!

  Hubby, you tolerate me and my emotions and my multiple neurosis like a champ. Thanks for holding down the home front and making the yummy lasagna.

  To my mini-me, Lolo. You were fussy Baby Marisa, honey, and I loved you through every colicky minute of it. Let’s keep wearing our shades when we walk into school every day. We look cool doing it, and I love seeing your carefree personality shine brighter than the sun. All my wishes are yours, baby.

  To my six sky babies. Thank you for existing. It was a dark and horrid time when I was losing you all, but I was alive. I made it through, and now my good days outnumber my bad. I hope you all can see that. I hope I make you proud, because all of you make me proud every day.

  Amy Daws is an Amazon Top 25 bestselling author of sexy, contemporary romance novels. She enjoys writing love stories that take place in America, as well as across the pond in England; especially about those footy-playing Harris Brothers of hers. When Amy is not writing in a tire shop waiting room, she’s watching Gilmore Girls, or singing karaoke in the living room with her daughter while Daddy smiles awkwardly from a distance.

  For more of Amy’s work, visit: www.amydawsauthor.com or check out the links below.

  www.facebook.com/amydawsauthor

  www.twitter.com/amydawsauthor

  instagram.com/amydawsauthor

  Enjoy this sample of CHALLENGE!

  “COME ON, CAMDEN,” TANNER GROANS, strolling into the kitchen and eyeing me at the table. He instantly deflates when he sees I’m nose deep in my book. “We’ve only got an hour before we need to leave. You need to get your ritual over with before it gets too late. Dad crawls the walls when we’re late for warm-ups.”

  My latest James Patterson, Cross Series novel thumps closed as I gaze back at my twin brother’s face. The dreary London daylight sheds little light on what emotion he’s portraying beneath all those unkempt facial pubes. I shake my head. “Don’t even consider judging my ritual. You’re the one looking like a blonde Hagrid.”

  He smiles and strokes his beard. “Aww, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Cam. Do you really think so? Maybe if I go for a full Dumbledore beard, our team will be promoted to Premiership.”

  I roll my matching blue eyes in response to the eagerness in his. Tanner and I aren’t identical twins, but back when he had trimmed blonde hair instead of the shaggy mess he sports now, we even fooled each other. I once watched a taped match for forty minutes before I realised I was watching Tanner kick a football down the pitch instead of myself. Although he has a lot more ink than me nowadays.

  Our other two brothers, Gareth and Booker, don’t look like us at all. Gareth is the oldest and Booker is the youngest. They take after our dad with their darker hair, but since we all grew up playing football, our builds are quite similar. Years of fieldwork policed by our dad and an intense weight-lifting regime made us the largest footballers on most pitches.

  To know the Harris name in regards to European football is like knowing the Mannings of American football. Football is more than our national obsession, it’s the Harris way of life. So much so that Tanner hasn’t cut a hair on his head since the start of our winning streak four months ago. The wanker even wears a pretentious sweatband to keep his hair out of his face during matches.

  Having a twin in general is a royal pain in the arse. Having him on the same team is like a bad case of haemorrhoids. Having him playing the same position is like a jagged butt plug rammed in at the wrong angle.

  However, his recent affection for hair has made my life ten times easier when it comes to the sporting game of women. Shockingly, the birds don’t tend to drop to their knees for the hobo-looking players. My clean-cut appearance, on the other hand, has them quivering with need. Trust me, I’m not complaining.

  “You’re still not going to shave?” My eyes zero in on two scraggly pieces hanging lower than the rest. “Trim it, maybe? Wash it? I can smell it from over here. It smells worse than Booker’s boots.”

  Tanner’s eyes fly wide. “I do wash it. I even got a fancy oil for it in Shoreditch last week. But I’m not shaving it. Ritual, Camden,” he adds pointedly. “Shall we talk in depth about what you do for yours?”

  I lift my brows but he doesn’t stop long enough for me to let loose a snappy retort. “Just get moving. Booker will be here soon to pick us up.” In two steps, he has me by my shoulders and pulls me out of my seat. He all but shoves me down the hallway toward the toilet.

  “I’m going, all right? There’s no need to get grabby.” My nose crinkles as I look over my shoulder and cringe away from his face. “And get that thing away from me.”

  His hold on me tightens as he attempts to rub his beard on my face, but I manage to duck into the loo just in time to slam the door on him. He laughs in triumph, most likely because he achieved his goal of
getting me to the toilet. God, my brother gets right up my nose. Living with him is trying at best, but I remind myself for the thousandth time this week that it was for a good reason.

  About six months ago, our teammate Will found himself in a spot of trouble. Apparently he’d been silently losing a battle against his gambling addiction. We had no idea he even had a problem. He came to us and said he was six months behind on rent. His landlord was not only threatening to press charges, but also call our manager to get Will removed from the team. Since our dad is the manager for the team we all play for, we knew that was a highly probable outcome.

  Tanner and I didn’t even have to exchange words before we agreed to pay the back rent. Then, when Will wanted to move home to get more help from his parents, we offered to take over his lease.

  It was a good move for us regardless. Tanner and I turned twenty-five two months ago, and living at home with our dad was getting harder and harder to explain. In our defence, Dad’s house is more similar to a posh hotel than a family home—a brown-brick mansion in Chigwell, just outside of East London. Aside from the times when our sister, Vi, came around to make us all dinner, it was football headquarters for all of us. We even held team meetings there.

  But now, being bunked up with a blonde Jesus in a smaller-than-I’d-like, two-bedroom flat in Bethnal Green sure doesn’t seem as exciting as it did initially, even if we do live close to the pitch and above a tattoo shop and a pub.

  In no time at all, I’m in the shower letting the hot, steamy water pound against the muscles on my back. Just as I do before every match, I close my eyes tightly and begin my highly-focused, visualisation technique that’s become a ritual I can’t seem to function without doing.