The Only Way is Up

Part Fifty Three

A/N Thanks for all your wonderful comments, my rant wasn't a cry for attention, not really. It was more a message to those not so complimentary. But I loved all your supportive words, :)

Hope you enjoy this chapter...I've edited it repeatedly to try and get it right...so there may be a few continuity errors!! Oh plus there's a reappearance! :)

Chapter Fifty Three

"Sleep well?"

Max almost didn't notice Nicole curled on the sofa to the right of the open plan downstairs of the cottage. She was cuddled up under a blanket that he recognised from her London home, they'd spent a few evenings under that blanket in the lounge, when they didn't make it as far as the bedroom. He warmed at those memories, unsure, despite staying in her home, if that intimacy would every happen again with her.

He nodded as he smiled, "that bed is the best I've slept in for a long time."

Rolling her eyes, she slid her feet to the floor, and laughed, "I doubt that very much. What about that penthouse suite you had in the Imperial? That was the epitome of luxury."

He shook his head, "bed was as hard as a stone floor. No good. Upstairs...that was just right."

As she pulled herself to her feet, he once again was stunned by the changes to her body, the hard swell of her abdomen, filled with his baby, her breasts, softer, larger than he ever remembered, in his memory she was perfect, but this different version of her was so much more than that.

"You sound like Goldilocks you know."

That snapped him out of his reverie, "Goldilocks?" He almost spluttered the word in his attempt to contain his laughter.

She crossed the room to the kitchen, nodding as she went, "yes." She put on a squeaky voice, "this bed is TOOOO soft...this bed is TOOOO hard. This bed is perfect! Is this the wrong time to suggest porridge?"

He stared at her, the sass, the cheek, THIS was the woman he fell in love with, "you..." But any response died on his lips as he convulsed with laughter.

"Coffee?" She asked as he wiped at a tear escaping his eye.

He nodded, "that would be amazing."

There was a bar stool perched near the island that separated the kitchen from the lounge, and he sat on that and watched her as she moved expertly around the kitchen making coffee.

"I'm on herbal tea," she offered as she poured hot water onto an apple teabag. "Not good for this little one."

She ran a hand over her stomach thoughtfully and suddenly he needed to feel it for himself, their baby. "Can I?"

Her eyes were full of emotion when she met his, and nodding she stepped towards him. He reached out towards her, but then stopped, unsure of what to do next. Her small hand reached out and slipped around his, then, entwining her fingers from the back of his hand, she pulled his palm flat over the baby.

He didn't know what he expected, but she was hard, distended, there wasn't an ounce of softness there, then there was the warmth of her hand on his, the zing that made his heart surge, his body long to pull this woman into his arms, to realise all that he'd lost. And then it moved, her stomach moved.

Jolted by that, he almost jumped and looked up at her, to see her smiling, "I think that was a 'hello Dad'."