Filed to story: Falling for My Ex's Mafia Dad Novel Free PDF (Fay Alden & Kent Lippert)
Wow, at two-thirty in the morning. Have I really been up that long? Why am I not more exhausted?
But as Kent stands and peels his shirt off and my eyes pass over his muscled body, his tanned skin…
I know precisely why I’m still up.
“I want to talk to you about that,” he murmurs, turning to look down at me. “But…is that the conversation we should be having tonight?”
And I bite my lip as I look up at Kent’s serious expression, as he glares at me a little letting me know that he’s well aware that there are things that happened today about which he has not been informed, and about which he wants to know.
Slowly, I shake my head. “We can save it,” I say quietly, knowing that it’s right. “For another time.”
“We have plenty of time now,” he murmurs, stepping forward and taking my chin in his palm, staring down into my face as if he can’t get enough of looking at me. “Well…as long as you did your job well and we aren’t going to be stopped by international customs and sent back to the United States the moment we land in Europe.”
“Oh,” I say too-innocently, my eyes going wide. “Should I have planned for that?”
He narrows his eyes at me, just a little, unwilling to play. I just laugh and swat his hand away.
“Of course we planned for that,” I murmur, shaking my head at him. “Daniel’s in charge of those details, actually he’s kind of amazing at shipping and boat stuff now he learned a lot in the past two months, about both the legitimate trade and smuggling ”
“Daniel?” Kent asks, baffled.
“I made him get a job,” I say, grinning.
“Daniel got a job?” Kent’s mouth falls open, making me laugh even harder. And then he groans, turning away from me. “I think…” he says quietly, taking a moment to consider. “I think I need a shower, Fay,” he says, glancing over his shoulder at me. “And then you need to tell me everything. Are you all right with that?”
“Look at you, Lippert,” I say, leaning back into the pillows with a wide grin. “Asking me if I’m all right with the plan, instead of telling me what’s going to happen. I think I like this new situation.”
“Well,” he says, moving back towards the bathroom even as he keeps his eyes on me. “Don’t think I didn’t notice what happened at dinner. It’s very clear who is in charge of your little rag-tag crew.”
“Don’t be too jealous, Kent,” I say, sighing and resting my head on top of my knees. “I’ll let you borrow them sometime.”
He laughs, shaking his head and turning towards the bathroom, I think eager for his shower to wash off the months in jail, the crash, the hard ride, the surprises of the day. To be clean, to start anew.
But before he disappears, I call his name. He turns to me, curious, and I can see on his face that he’ll give me anything I ask for in this moment. Anything at all.
“Can you toss me that pack of saltines?” I ask quietly, pointing to the white sleeve of crackers on the dresser.
He laughs, surprised, and I smile to see his face so joyful. But then he does as I ask, grabbing the crackers and tossing them to me before he disappears into the bathroom.
“Don’t get crumbs in the bed,” he calls over his shoulder. I bite my lip as I rip open the sleeve, so incredibly happy, because as each moment passes he becomes more and more like the Kent I know again.
The Kent I love, and the man I fought to have at my side.
I bite into a cracker, happy and pleased, and look down at my stomach, where the baby has been quiet all day. “Your daddy’s back, baby,” I murmur, giving a content little sigh. “And we’re not letting him go anywhere, ever again. Are we?”
Baby doesn’t reply, but I don’t mind. Because we have time for that.
When I hear the shower turn on in the little bathroom, I stand up and head to the little suitcases that I packed for Kent and I for this trip. A little thrill runs through me as I remember how anxious I was packing his worrying if he’d like the clothes I picked out for him, if he’d ever get to wear them if I, too, would get to wear mine, because there was one hell of a large chance that I was going to get arrested today as well
But everything went over beautifully. And now…
I have other things to worry about.
Like what do you wear to bed when you’re four months pregnant and you haven’t seen your baby daddy in two months?
I groan a little, turning towards Kent’s bag first and pulling out a pair of underwear black boxer briefs, the only thing I’ve ever seen him wear and a pair of pajama pants. I move to the bathroom door and crack it open, falling back a little in surprise at the quantity of steam that puffs out of the door.
Well, I guess he didn’t get a lot of hot showers in jail.
“Clothes delivery,” I call, tossing the underwear and pajamas onto the closed lid of the toilet.
Kent laughs a little, and I know he’s appreciating the irony of tables again being turned. I just smile and pull the door shut, letting him have a minute to enjoy his shower in peace. Then, I move to my own little suit case, quickly swapping out my black dress for a mostly-shapeless black silk nightgown.
I peer at myself in the mirror once I’ve changed, running my fingers through my hair and then turning to the side, smoothing the fabric down over my little baby bump. I smile at it, thinking that it’s kind of cute.
But will Kent think the same?
I mean, I know he just said that he thought all iterations of me were perfect but…
I sigh and turn away, hoping that it proves correct. Because Kent liked my body a lot when I wasn’t pregnant I just…will he still like it now that it’s shaped differently?
I push the thought from my mind, though something I’ve gotten used to in the past couple of months and crawl back into bed, pulling the blankets up over my knees and picking up my book, reading through a few pages and not really processing what’s going on in the story.
I grow tenser as I hear the shower water turn off, hear him moving around in the bathroom, brushing his own teeth, getting changed.
Because…
Frankly, I’m not looking forward to the conversation I know we’re going to have next. I don’t want, at all, to think about how he’ll react when I tell him everything Daniel and I did to make this moment possible.
Because while he might be able to accept morning sickness Fay, and pregnant Fay…
God, will he still love me when he finds out that I’m a murderer?
I mean, he’d be an incredible hypocrite if he didn’t but…
Was my innocence one of the things he loved about me? Did I take that away?
When Kent finally emerges from the bathroom he ignored the pajama pants, as I thought he might I’m looking up at him with wide and worried eyes, already shining with tears.
His face falls immediately as he crosses the room in an instant, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning forward, cupping my cheek with his palm. “What?” he asks, quiet, insistent. “What is it?”
I shake my head, my lower lip trembling as I whisper my answer. “I’m really worried you’re going to hate me now.”
“Fay,” he breathes, shaking his head like it’s unbelievable. And then he sighs and takes the book from my hands, neatly marking the page with the flap of the book cover and placing it on the side table. Then, all business all Kent he shuts off the light, and climbs into bed, and takes charge.
Kent rearranges the pillows so that he can lean back against him, and then he pulls me into his lap and wraps his arms tight around me, pulling me warm against his chest. He tucks the blankets in around us so that we’re in a comfortable little nest, and then he rests his head against mine.
We sit like that for a moment, listening to the still rush of the waves against the ship, the distant sound of the engines churning. And I take a deep breath, closing my eyes, relishing the feeling of ceding him control of letting him handle it all.
After a few moments of peace, Kent speaks.