Mendacious (24 page)

“Yes,” I murmur.

“Good. Because our baby doesn’t deserve a broken family. It deserves to be born into a house with two loving parents who are going to make things work.” She looks down at her stomach, tender love shining in her eyes. “Our baby deserves to have us
together
. I want to make it work between us, Alex, but I need that promise from you that things will be different this time round, and that you’ll put me and the baby first.”

“I have never stopped loving you, Libby. Not once.” The words literally tumble from my lips unexpectedly, catching me completely off-guard by my own confession.

“But your plan wasn’t about love.”

I shake my head. “I told you it was all about control, sweetheart. I saw an opportunity to control you once again, so I took it. Can’t blame a man for wanting to be near the woman he loves, can you? I had no intention of ever selling off your company. My conscience would never allow it.” My hand drifts to her stomach and I splay my palm wide over hers. “And now, we have somebody else to think about as well.”

I’m trying my hardest, but I don’t know if I’m showing her enough. My heart wants to show her exactly who I am now and what I’ve become. I want to promise I’ll give her the world, but even I can’t predict the future. We have to take each day as it comes because this won’t fall into place naturally. Our hearts are there, but I know that niggling doubt of our past will forever be present in both of our minds. But it is something we will have to live with.

Libby and I stay as we are with my hand across her stomach and our eyes connected. She looks to be studying me for a weakness in my features, or whether this is all some bullshit lie I’m spewing to try and con her.

But eventually she pushes this aside and smiles.

“I don’t know how to forget you, Alex Lewis,” she replies, shaking her head. “I loved you the day I left, and I still love you now. Things were just hard.”

“I know. And I’m sorry for not realising it back then.” I confess. “But we have the chance of changing things now. We can really move forward and try to make this work.”

“I want to.” She looks at me hopefully. “I want this to work, Alex. So much.”

“Well, it has to,” I grin. “I’ve pretty much ruined you for anyone else.” My hand drifts up her ribcage and I lightly cup her breast, massaging the soft swell with my fingertips, taking in what I think is a new and distinct heaviness.

“My boobs are swollen,” she half moans, half whimpers when I softly graze her hardening nipple.

She appears very sensitive and I want to test this theory out. Dipping my head, I flick the lightest of touches over her nipple, and smile smugly at the reaction I achieve.

Libby shudders and arches her chest against my mouth, openly inviting me to take my share—which I do without complaint.

My dick stirs beneath the fuzzy blanket, and I feel I’m getting hard again. It’s been a couple of hours since we practically ripped each other’s clothes off, so I’m hoping she’s going to be up for it again.

I sweep my hand along the side of her body, heading straight for her now parting thighs to see if I can take this further.

But before I get there, I still.

It could be my imagination, but her body feels ... different. Her curves appear smoother and slightly fuller beneath my fingers with an unusual glow that seems to radiate her appearance.

She looks fucking stunning.

Beautiful.

I withdraw and lift my head, making sure I stare straight into those big, bright eyes when I brush my fingers over the silky folds that conceal the entrance to my addiction.

I will never allow another man anywhere near her.

Not now.

Not ever.

Holding up the scan picture, Libby squints and studies it closely. The concentration she gives it has me in absolute stitches from where I’m watching her across the room.

“Sweetheart, you aren’t going to see from that. Just give it up already,” I say, patting the cold sofa cushions beside me. “Come sit down and leave the flump alone.”

“But I want to know,” she whines, flapping the picture around in her hand. “Why did you say you didn’t want to know the sex? That’s so unfair. I really wanted to know.”

Shaking my head, I get up and snake my hands around her waist, pressing a soft but brief kiss against her lips. “I don’t want to know. And if one of us doesn’t, then they can’t say anything to either of us.”

“But I want to plan things with colour. Not bloody yellow or white.”

Chuckling, I press another kiss to her lips. “Let it be a surprise. And you can still plan things. Blue and pink aren’t the only colours in the world. Think outside the box.”

“But—”

“We aren’t finding out, Libby.” My hands drift from her waist to her arse, and I pull her close, feeling the slight rounded bump of her middle, pressing against my hips. “And that’s that.”

Raising her chin defiantly, she regards me with dangerous eyes. “I’ll spend loads of money on plain stuff, and then as soon we find out, I’m going to go and spend loads of money on boyish or girly stuff.”

“Sweetheart, you can spend as much bloody money as you want. It doesn’t matter. The threat of rinsing me dry isn’t going to make me get in the car and drive back to the ultrasound woman and demand that she tell me the sex of our baby.” I laugh as the words spill from my amused lips. “There is plenty of money for you to blow on this baby. The sky is the limit.”

Libby pushes against my chest, putting space between us, and crosses her arms. “That’s not funny.”

“Well, what else will make you happy?”

“I want to design the nursery at your flat.”

“Done,” I say, shrugging. “It’s all yours to do what you want. Have you thought about the nursery for here?” I’m skilled in the art of changing the subject.

“I have the furniture picked out.”

I smile and nod like I have done throughout this pregnancy so far, deciding it’s far easier to agree with a hormonal woman than trying to challenge her.

Although, I did have to voice my opinion louder than I expected at the scan today.

We were offered the opportunity of learning the sex, but I declined on behalf of us both, wanting it to be a surprise on the big day. I’d already spoken to Libby about it in the car, and she knew how strongly I felt about my decision, but still she tried to force me during the scan.

I won’t back down on this. It’s the only bit of control I’ve got in this pregnancy. I’ve left everything else for Libby to fill her time with while I oversee the expansion of her business.

And thankfully, everything baby related seems to be keeping her occupied, so she hasn’t been hounding me with questions on the progress of the move. Especially now that the lawsuit has been dropped, and I have a bit more control with what I’m trying to achieve.

Things changed for us at the twelve week scan. The moment we saw that baby on that screen and the life we’ve both created together, the world literally realigned in a nanosecond, and we knew we were doing the right thing for our little flump.

Whereas before the scan, even though we had discussed wanting to make it work, and had the chance to get all our feelings across, Libby was still on the fence about us. She wouldn’t back down with the lawsuit until she felt comfortable things were going to work out, which was when she held that little scan picture in her hand.

Now, we are at twenty weeks, and planning our future. We are still living separately, but you’ll find either of us at each other’s places each night of the week. We are taking it slow as we try and build that trust again.

“Have you thought anymore about a name?” Libby asks, gently cradling her stomach. “I know you didn’t like my suggestions the other week.”

“I’ve thought of a few.”

She gets excited. “Tell me.”

“Well, I like Oscar for a boy and Matilda for a girl.” As soon I say the names, I see the grimace on her face and laugh. “That a no, then?”

“It’s not that I don’t like them ... I’ve just come up with some new ones.”

“Right ...” I prepare myself. I haven’t liked any of the names she has suggested over the last few weeks, but we’ll see.

“Oliver for a boy and Sienna for a girl,” she says.

They aren’t bad, actually. I’m just a little miffed that they aren’t my choice, so I don’t give her any reaction at all, apart from a casual shrug. “They are alright, I guess.”

“You hate them?” she seems hurt.

My eyes roll of their own accord and I sigh. “I tell you what, how about we toss a coin after he or she is born. Heads we pick my name, and tails you get yours?”

Libby purses her lips. “I guess that seems fair.”

“It is. Now will you go and get ready?”

“For what?”

Putting my hands on her shoulders, I steer Libby toward the stairs. “It’s Wednesday.”

“Yes ...”

“It’s date night,” I remind her with a soft chuckle. “Just because we’ve been to the scan today, it doesn’t mean you get to bail on my Wednesday night. Now, will you go and change into something for dinner?” I press a chaste kiss against the side of her neck and pat her arse to get her moving before sitting back in the living room.

~

“You don’t have to take me to a posh restaurant,” Libby tells me when I pull into a parking space under The Bullring shopping centre. “I want something simple.”

“Good job.” I open my door and round the car to open the same for Libby. “I already decided on Nando’s.”

“A coincidence. I was looking at the menu earlier.” She slides out of the car and balances her handbag on her wrist. “Sometimes, it’s nice to just be simple.”

“
Simple
? Being simple is staying at home and making our own food. Not many people can afford to eat out all the time,” I remind her when I press the call button for the lift and lean against the wall.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant it’s nice to go out for a meal that isn’t eight million courses long, and decorated with broccoli stalks on the side of the plate.”

I smile. “It’s so easy to reel you in, sweetheart. You take the bait every time.”

“Whatever,” Libby mumbles, getting in the lift behind me. “I always fall for it.”

“Yep.”

“I don’t like banter.”

“Sure you do,” I murmur, pressing up behind her and nuzzling her neck when the lift doors close. “It keeps you on your toes.”

Her body melts against mine and I hear her subtle sigh. “Not in the lift,” she whispers when my tongue traces the curve of her neck.

“I haven’t had a taste today. Are you trying to starve me?”

“Ace—”

The lift stops and the doors open on the ground floor of the shopping centre. Libby breaks away and I spot the increasing redness spread over her pale cheeks.

“You’re so cute at times,” I tease.

“I’m cute all the time,” she laughs.

“Yeah. But you weren’t earlier this afternoon at the scan,” I murmur quietly.

I know she hears what I say because she immediately steps out of the lift and heads toward the small food court without bothering to wait.

Me and my big mouth
.

Walking behind, I snatch her hand and entwine our fingers. “Don’t get grumpy, sweetheart.” I give her a playful squeeze. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s fine.”

Her tone comes across a little frosty, but I shrug it off as pregnancy hormones and hope dinner doesn’t turn as disastrous as I’m now anticipating.

We head into Nando’s and get given a small table for the two of us. We are crammed in pretty tightly between loads of other tables, but I had already expected it. This place is always heaving with chicken lovers.

“Do you know what you want?” I don’t bother picking up my menu. I’ve been here that many times I could practically recite my order backwards while standing on my head.

“Yes.”

“You’ve decided?”

“Yes.”

“Want me to order?”

“Yes.”

“Are you just going to give me one word answers?” I arch an eyebrow and rub my jaw. “Tell me your order.”

Libby rolls her eyes and pushes back her chair. “I’ll order myself.”

She gets up and heads for the counter, and I’m quickly following behind. “Sweetheart,” I murmur, putting my hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she replies, her eyes focused on the guys grilling chicken behind the counter.

I know she’s not fine, but I hold my tongue until we’ve both ordered and are sitting back down with our fizzy drinks.

“Come on then,” I start, leaning back in my chair. “Tell me what an arsehole you think I am.”

Bringing the straw to her lips, I watch Libby suck softly and put the glass back on the table. “I told you, I’m fine.”

“Like hell you are.”

“Just leave it.”

I lean forward and rest my elbows on the table. “It’s date night, so I don’t want this tension between us. We’re supposed to be making this work, but I feel like you’ve just gone ten steps back.”

“Alex, stop.”

“Are you still mad about the scan?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t want to know, though.”

“But I did.”

Blowing out a breath, I mull over my next words, knowing this light argument could either escalate or disappear depending on what angle I decide to take. But then again, do I really want to cause such a big argument?

“I don’t wanna fight over this. I understand where you’re coming from, but you have to see it from my side, too. I didn’t want to know, and I can bet that if you found out by yourself, then you wouldn’t have kept it a secret from me. It will be a nice surprise.” I soften my lips to a small smile and hope she takes my words on board. If not, we’ll be making a quick escape before Libby blows and causes a scene, because I’d rather not be kicked out of Nando’s.

Otherwise, where will I get my spicy chicken fix from?

“I get it. We shouldn’t fight over something so stupid. We’ve grown from what we were like, so I don’t want us going backwards either. We should be talking these things out.” Libby takes another sip of her drink and looks to me with an apologetic sigh. “I’m sorry. I just really, really wanted to know.”

Nodding, I take her hand across the table. “I know, sweetheart. But I promise you, it’ll be worth the wait to have that surprise in the delivery room. I’ll be there every step of the way with you.” My thumb strokes over her knuckles reassuringly. “Now, can we have a date night do over?” I ask when our food is put in front of us. “Wanna go to the pictures after? They’re showing that new Tom Hardy film you want to see.”

And just like that, Libby’s bright smile returns. “I love a bit of Tom Hardy.”