Blind Love

Chapter 55 • For A Season

I feel so rested that I would think I've slept for an entire week uninterrupted. I woke up this morning, finally, without having to both sit on and bend over the toilet in the twelve weeks that I've been pregnant and I'd much rather have to wee every thirty minutes than to bring up whatever I ate last.

I've been awake for about an hour and in that time, I've changed out of my pyjamas into my comfy lounge clothes, taken Maggie outside to do her business, put a load in the wash and have made breakfast. I feel energized and more focused on this pregnancy than I ever have and I'm ready to push through this bed rest shit, so I figured I'd have a proper send off with a good hearty breakfast.

I'm prepared to have Harry chew my arse out for being so productive this morning after my doctor told me to take it easy, but I'm hoping the eggs, beans and sausage links and bacon will help smooth things over.

The ding on the toaster oven alerts me that the crumpets are done, so I grab the hand towel and open the cover to take out the tray. The golden flaky crust makes my mouth water and the heavenly aroma makes my stomach growl as I set the hot tray on the cool granite.

"Hang in there, babies. We'll be eating in no time," I say in jest with a little pat on my belly.

With the eggs, meat and beans simmering on the stove, I can tell my cooking skills have greatly improved since living with Harry and I'm sure he appreciates that. Heating pre-made meals in the micro may be easier, but home-cooked is light years better. Now that everything is ready, I give my hands a quick wash and dry them on a hand towel.

"Would you like to help me wake Harry up?" I ask Maggie who has been patiently waiting for me to drop something while I cook. I pat my leg for her to follow and she happily trots next to me. "You can say, 'Wake up, Dad,' or 'Breakfast is ready, Dad.' He'll appreciate it either way."

Smiling at my one-sided conversation with Maggie, we turn the corner into the bedroom and I stop in my tracks.

"Where is he?"

"M'right here, love." His voice is still raspy from sleep and I turn around to see my husband coming out of the loo wearing a towel around his waist and going by the glistening glow on his tattoo-covered torso, I know he's just taken a shower. "Good morning."

"Uhh, yeah, good morning. When did you uhh, when did you wake up?"

He smirks, reaching down to pet Maggie's head, "Around the time the bacon started sizzling."

"You and your heightened senses."

"Mhm, now please tell me you hired a private chef to come over so you didn't have to be on your feet and cook, especially after Dr. Tate's orders."

"I hired a private chef."

"You little liar," he says, making me laugh. "Seriously though, are you and the twins feeling okay?"

"Yes, we are. It's the best I've felt in a while. It's like a complete one-eighty difference from last night and no sign of Braxton Hicks contractions this morning."

His expression is one of relief and as our arms wrap around each other, I tilt my head up so I can look at him and since he's not wearing his sunnies, it feels more intimate. He dips his head down and I close my eyes in anticipation, threading my hand through his damp hair. Our lips meld together with my bottom lip trapped between his lips and the scent of our toothpaste is strong on his breath.

His hands slide down my back and land on my hips where he gently squeezes, pulling me closer to him. The thought of our breakfast burning crosses my mind and I hum into our kiss, quickly pulling away.