Not My Brute (Angels of War Series #2)

Epilogue

A big splodge of paint hits me directly on the forehead when I move the foam roller over the ceiling. Shutting my eye so it doesn't slide into it, I reach out to rest my hands on the back of the chair I'm standing on so I don't fall off. Bret would have a fit knowing I'm up here and if I fall off it I'm very sure he'd divorce me on the spot.

"What in Gods name are you doing?"

Busted.

Still not opening my eyes, I say, "Can you pass me something to wipe my face with? I'm in a situation here."

There's a rustling and a long sigh before a cloth wipes across my face, rubbing harder over my eyebrow. "I told you before I left to leave the ceiling to me. You're so stubborn, Ana."

"It needs doing and you were putting it off," I respond, opening my eyes to see my husband frowning at me.

A lot has changed over the past five years, but Bret's resting aggressive face is still very much intact.

"Mama!" an excited voice shouts from outside of the room, followed by his tiny, yet loud footsteps.

Ralph appears in the room holding what looks to be a new Paw Patrol teddy bear in his hands. Our two year old boy is the spitting image of his daddy with soft green eyes and two matching dimples, taking after me for something with his jet black curly hair.

I bend down and open my arms when he dashes over to show me his new toy. "Hello, my little angel. Did daddy buy you something?"

Lifting the teddy of Marshall up he wiggles it around, pulling a serious face. "Grrrr!"

I get on to my knees with much struggle and place my fingers around his waist. "What noise does a dog make?"

"Wooo," he responds, glancing down at his toy to fiddle with the red fireman's hat.

Bret cheers him on. "Yeah, buddy! Say daddy?"

Ralph looks over at him. "DADDEEE!"

I giggle, rubbing my very swollen stomach. "You're his favourite. I hope I'm our next one's."

Bret stares up at the baby pink walls and back at me. "I'm not letting this one out of my sight," he bends down to grab Ralph in his arms, digging his finger into his sides. "You're gonna be a good big brother to your baby sister, right bud?"

Ralph folds into the embrace and lets out a hearty chuckle, grabbing onto Bret's hand to drag him out of the room. I'm mesmerised by them, as always, thanking my husband everyday for the love he shows me and our little boy. I always knew he had it in him from watching how amazing he is with Oscar, but having that bond of them nurturing a baby you both made is beyond special.

Left on my own, I bend down to pick up the roller, deciding to stick to the walls instead. Tiny splatters of paint coat my arms and clothes every time I push the roller back and forth and I make sure my mouth is closed when it gets me all over my face.

We have seven weeks and two days before our little girl arrives and we're behind on everything. I'm not sure whether we got complacent with this being the second pregnancy or if time just got away from us. But the closer my due date approaches the closer I am to pulling my hair out.

I stop what I'm doing when I hear Ralph shouting me from downstairs with Bret's promise of Hawaiian pizza. Pineapple is my new crave food along with chocolate Ready Brek. A sucker for good food, I put the roller inside the tray so it doesn't mark the floorboards and tiptoe around the mess, removing my socks when I get to the door. Bret had a fit when I trailed pink footprints through the hallway the other day, telling me that it'd take him hours to scrub them off.