JENNA watched in amusement as Isaac gingerly held their three-month-old in his huge hands, which even at her size and weight now completely dwarfed her, and rocked her in the oversized rocker they’d had to specially order to accommodate him. Even as he cooed utter nonsense, it didn’t escape Jenna’s notice how careful he was in his every movement. He was forever terrified that he’d hurt little Evangeline by simply crushing her with his “clumsy, giant hands,” as he referred to them. Jenna merely rolled her eyes and shook her head, which always instantly garnered a wounded, “What?” from her husband.
The man treated his firstborn like she was spun from the most fragile, delicate glass ever manufactured, but his grip was always sure and steady. It was then Jenna reminded him, as she always did, that she was more likely to drop their daughter than he ever was. Of course, in Isaac’s eyes, his wife was perfect, and he took immediate exception to her even thinking such a thing about herself.
He didn’t just keep his opinions regarding his wife and daughter to himself either. He proudly proclaimed that Jenna was the most perfect mother a husband could ever ask for and that Evangeline, or little Evie, as she’d been dubbed by Jenna, though she was often trumped by Isaac, who’d insisted that she should be called Angel, since she’d certainly descended from one, was the most beautiful baby girl who ever lived.
Thankfully, Ari and Beau had been blessed with a little boy, because if not, the arguments between the two proud fathers would have gotten ugly and physical. Now they could both claim to have the cleverest, most intelligent, most beautiful baby of their respective sexes. As for Ari and Jenna, they merely tolerated their husbands’ nonsense by shaking their heads and leaving the room so the men could indulge in all the baby-talk nonsense they liked while the two women could actually have an adult conversation.
Usually Jenna was content to watch her husband dote on Evangeline for hours, but today was their one-year anniversary, and she had plans for her husband that didn’t include him spending the entire afternoon speaking the language of “goo” and “gah.” True to Isaac’s word, he had knocked her up as fast as humanly possible, which was why they were celebrating their first year together with a three-month-old child.
He was inordinately proud of that fact, and that too was something he smugly let her know on a regular basis. But Jenna just smiled her secret smile as if she somehow endured, when in fact she was living the most wonderful dream she’d ever imagined in her life.
“Is she ready to go down for her nap yet?” Jenna asked softly as she approached the rocker, where she’d noticed that Isaac had grown quiet.
Isaac nodded and whispered in a hushed tone, “She’s got a full belly, a clean diaper and Daddy just rocked her to sleep. I’d say we’re good for a couple of hours at least.”
“Good, because I have plans for you, mister,” she said in her most threatening tone.
He arched an eyebrow but she saw the instant gleam that entered his eyes. That predatory gleam that never failed to make her shiver all the way to her toes.
“Depending on how fast you get her down in her crib and get back to the bedroom, you might get to see me undressing. Of course, if you take too long, alas, the deed will already be done and you’ll have to find me underneath all those covers.”
The look on Isaac’s face was priceless. “What plans exactly are you talking about?” he asked hoarsely.
She narrowed her eyes. “The kind of plans a wife tends to make on the one-year anniversary of her marriage to her husband. But . . . if you’re not interested, I’m sure I can find something else to do.”
Isaac scrambled up as quickly as he could manage without jostling and waking Evie. Fortunately for them, she was a sound sleeper once you got her to that stage.
“The hell I’m not interested,” Isaac burst out, wincing when he realized how loudly he’d bellowed and immediately lowering his voice. “I’ll be there in thirty seconds, and I will not be pleased to find you already undressed, Mrs. Washington.”
“Then I suggest you get a move on, Mr. Washington,” she teased.
He very nearly tripped on his shoes as he hurried into the next room to deposit Evie into her crib. Jenna giggled and then mentally counted to five before she moved to the side of the bed and ever so slowly began removing the clothing from her body.
At first, Jenna had been very self-conscious of the changes in her body wrought by her pregnancy—changes that hadn’t exactly gone away after her delivery. The fact that her behind had become a little wider and a little fuller, her belly just a little softer and her breasts, dear Lord—she’d gained two cup sizes during her pregnancy and it would appear she was stuck with them.
Isaac had had an absolute fit when she’d hesitantly asked him whether he was turned off by the seemingly permanent changes in her body. He’d looked at her like she’d lost her damn mind and then proceeded to show—not tell—her precisely what he thought of every (in his words) delectable, delicious curve. He especially showed her newfound upgrade in cleavage his profound appreciation, and then tenderly gathered her in his arms and told her with utter sincerity that there was nothing that would ever make him stop loving her and worshipping her body every damn chance he got. That she was the most beautiful woman in his world, the only woman in his world. He’d been so sincere that his words had brought tears to her eyes, and then he’d kissed them away and made love to her all over again, showing her twice as much appreciation in the end.
She’d only managed to slide her—or rather his—shirt down her shoulders when he came barreling into the doorway of their bedroom, his heated gaze immediately finding her. She loved wearing nothing but one of his button-down shirts as it dwarfed her much smaller frame, and he loved her wearing nothing but his shirts, his hands finding their way up the inside of her leg a dozen times a day when she wore one, to see if she was wearing any underwear.
On the days she wasn’t? Well, suffice it to say, wherever they were when he made his discovery was where he impatiently made love to her, barely managing to get his pants unzipped before he was on her and inside her so deep that she felt him against her womb.
He stalked purposefully over to her, his eyes glittering with desire that hadn’t waned even a little in the year they’d been married. If anything, their passion grew crazier, needier and more desperate by the day.
“God, please tell me you aren’t wearing any underwear under my shirt,” he said in a growl.
“I might be,” she teased. “Or I might not. I believe it’ll be up to you to find out,” she said, knowing that if he investigated and found her bare, his favorite way for her to be, she’d get the rough loving she craved when he was intensely and painfully aroused.
He closed his eyes and swore, surprising her because that wasn’t his typical response in a situation like this. He pressed his mouth to hers in a hungry kiss. “Stay right here. Don’t move,” he said, before slipping into the bathroom.
He returned holding something in his fist and he stopped in front of her, his expression suddenly serious. Then he opened his palm and she looked down to see a pregnancy test resting there. She glanced back up, staring at him in obvious confusion.
“I think you should take this, baby,” he said gently.