“Handsome? Do people even use that word anymore if they aren’t talking about little boys dressed up in sailor suits for weddings?”
She laughs, sliding her hand around my middle, and presses a kiss to the side of my neck. “Well, I could say you look good enough to fuck, but that wouldn’t be appropriate in such polite company,” she whispers.
We both take in the party; the decorations Ellie’s mom has been fussing over for weeks, and our classmates, dressed up like they’re going to prom. It really is an event that we’ll remember forever.
“After we’re done celebrating,” I say, hooking my arm around Ellie’s shoulders and pulling her close. “We have a surprise for you.”
“A surprise? I’m not sure I like those.”
“You’ll like this one.” Kissing her temple, I breathe in the scent of my woman, feeling a bone-deep satisfaction. It’s the kind of feeling you don’t know you’re missing until it settles inside you, and then you never want to be without it.
“Maybe you should just tell me now,” she says, gazing up with wide, hopeful eyes.
“Maybe you need to take a class in patience,” I say with a wolfish grin.
“It’s not on the class list,” she smiles.
We’ve been keeping Ellie in the dark about something for months, but we’ve finally pulled it off. The next few hours will be fun, knowing that she knows we have a secret. Our girl doesn’t enjoy waiting for things, and she doesn’t like not knowing.
It’s going to drive her mad.
And me? Well, her nickname for me is CF, which doesn’t stand for Colby Fantastic, unfortunately. It stands for control freak, and I guess it’s fitting because I’m going to love every minute of her frustration!
MICKY
Ellie has begged me to tell her about the surprise at least ten times, and I’ve resisted. She’s pressing me because she knows I’m a soft touch. I hate seeing her so frustrated, which I why I made Colby promise not to tell her before today. If he had his way, the sick fuck would have made her wait a week to find out.
“I can’t tell you, baby. Colby would have my nuts.”
“I like your nuts,” she says, smoothing her hand down the front of my dress shirt until it reaches my belt. A little too close to my nuts. Things that shouldn’t stir in polite company start to come to life, and I snatch her hand away.
“You’ll find out in an hour. Just be patient, okay?”
“Do you know me?” she says, scowling prettily. “Patience is not a virtue I have in abundance.”
“But you have plenty of other virtues in abundance,” I smile.
“I’m not going to get anywhere with you, am I?” she says, hanging her shoulders. Fuck, this girl makes me want to tell her everything, but the surprise is too big and too important.
“Sorry, baby. I would if I could, but my brothers would tear me a new one.”
“Not an image I want to dwell on,” she snorts. I watch as her eyes scan the party, searching out Seb. He’s the last one she hasn’t tried to crack, but he’s talking to our dad and Ellie’s mom while bouncing Noah in his arms.
“Seb won’t tell you either,” I say. “It’s too big of a surprise to spoil.”
“Big?” she says, realizing I’ve given her something without intending to. “Big as in actual size or just big in significance.”
“Just big,” I smile, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head. She smells of coconuts and her own unique scent. When I kiss our son in the same place, he smells just like his momma.
Noah begins to fuss, and Ellie smiles up at me before dashing across the yard. Her hips sway in her clingy black dress, and I marvel at how her shape has changed since carrying Noah. Everything about our girl is gorgeous.
I follow, too, wanting to remind Seb of the importance of remaining tightlipped. I might be the softy around here, but Seb is the most loose-lipped of all of us.
“He’s hungry,” Lara says as Micky hands Noah to Ellie. He’s so big now that she seems swamped by his size and weight.
“Poor baby. Everyone else has been eating, and he’s famished.”
“There are yogurts in the fridge,” Lara says.
“He wants milk,” Ellie says, kissing Noah’s pudgy cheek.
“I’ll help you to make it,” I say.
As Ellie walks towards the house, her heels sinking into the grass, I nudge my brother.
“She’s asking for details of the secret. You can’t tell her, okay?”
He brings his hand to his forehead in a clipped salute. “Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir!”
All he gets in return is an eye roll.
Ellie has strapped Noah into the highchair in the kitchen, and he’s grumbling. “It’s okay, son,” I say, ruffling his dark curls. “Mommy will have your milk soon.”
“Give him one of these,” Ellie says, passing me a spongy biscuit that Noah loves. “But put this on first.”