Page 79 of Because of Them

Pride blossoms over my father’s face every time he asks how the hotel build was going and I tell him we were on track to finish early. It filtered through his entire stance when I passed him one of his grandson’s the first time they met, and it’s there again now.

He looks up from William, following Audrey as she paces back and forth in the tiny kitchen. A softness I never knew he possessed comes out as he tries to calm her. “Audrey, honey, we’ll be fine.”

It doesn’t work. Instead she scoffs and rifles through the basket of baby things on the bench. You would think she knew the contents by heart, the number of times she has checked over it this afternoon. Everything our parents could possibly need for the boys while we are gone. Panicked, she whips her head up to look at me. “Do you think this is enough nappies? I’ve got ten. And two packets of wipes.”

I take a chance, stepping behind her and placing my hands on her hips. Electricity tingles from my fingertips and when she sucks in the tiniest of gasps, I step closer. Our bodies pressing together, I dip my head low to kiss her ear. Her exhale is shaky and she shudders underneath my fingers. They twitch at the feeling, dipping into the soft skin of her sides.One step at a time,I remind myself.

“It’s plenty, Audrey. And there’s more in the boys room just in case. Let’s go to dinner. The sooner we go, the sooner we can get back, yeah? But you deserve this break, and Mum and Dad will be fine.”

“We really will, sweetie,” my mum pipes up. “We will call you if you need, but it will do you good to get out of the house.”

Audrey sniffs. Her head falls back on my shoulder and I wrap my arms around her. She squeezes my arms around her middle before pushing back to step out of the embrace.

“Okay, let’s go.”

She kisses Henry, then William, on the forehead, and shares a long hug with my mother. She hesitates at the front door, and again before stepping into the car.

The restaurant is buzzing when we arrive. The sound crawls over my skin like ants, making my back itch and my nose scrunch.

“I should have picked somewhere quieter, I’m sorry.”

Audrey nudges me inside. “It’s perfect. Maisie is always going on about how good the pasta is.”

“She’s five, how does she know what a good pasta is?”

“Because I make a mean Spaghetti Bolognese. I need to size up my competition.”

The restaurant is only a block away from Callum and Cassidy’s old apartment. And Audrey is right, Maisie is always talking about how good the pasta is. Audrey always mocks shock, claiming she must try it out. It was easy enough to find out where they got it from when Cassidy came to take Maisie to dance class last week, and I took a gamble that beneath the playful tone there was a hint of truth. I can’t wipe the smirk off my face when Audrey all but admits the bet paid off.

She slips her hand into mine as we follow a young waiter through the restaurant to a small booth near the back. The space is cosy, all warm lights and natural textures. Wood grain tables line the side wall of painted brick, flourished with centrepieces of green and white. The plush maroon seats either side of the table the waitress leads us to are small, clearly meant for one person each, but Audrey tugs me down beside her after she sits. Rather than squeeze next to her, I pull her onto my knee, holding her tight when she tries to protest.

“You wanted to share the seat made for one,” I whisper.

She giggles.God,she giggles and I swear I haven’t heard her laugh in months. The sound reverberates down my spine, warming me from the inside out.

“I missed your laugh.”

Her giggle melts into a soft sigh and she finally relaxes against me.

I dip my hand onto her side, squeezing her thigh. My thumb presses against the crease, following the line of her panties underneath her leggings. Her sigh morphs again, into something more guttural. The sound feeds me, building a fire in my bones.

“I missedyou.” I kiss the soft spot behind her ear, nipping at the sensitive skin. As she wriggles in my lap, the friction rubs against my groin until my dick is strained under the zipper of my pants. “Fuck, Audrey.”

She pulls her lower lip between her teeth, pushing herself further into me. “I missed you, too.”

“Audrey,” I warn her.

I’ve been so starved for touch over the past few months, and it’s not her fault but if she isn’t careful I’m about to let all my pent-up sexual frustration out on her. No more giving her time to be ready, to heal—physically and emotionally. No more waiting for her to make the first move, although the way she moves in my lap might be just that. She grinds herself into meuntil I’m ready to hoist her onto the table and feast on her. Screw the pasta.

“Michael.” It’s a whisper on her lips. A memory of how she moaned my name into my ear. A promise that she will again.

And then she is gone. She’s off my lap and sliding into the chair opposite me before I have a chance to pull her back.

‘Later’ she mouths, and I don’twantto get my hopes up because I know later means home and the boys and all the crazy that having twin newborns brings. But the hope swells anyway. My cock, too. I reach between my legs to adjust myself, earning a wide, all-knowing grin from Audrey. Her eyes twinkle and maybe it’s just from the overhead chandeliers but maybe it’s also because she feels it too. The electricity between us that was so close to fizzling into nothing but is still there, waiting to be sparked again.

The waiter bounds over while we are still taking each other in, catching me with my hand on my lap and my eyes, surely pitch black, raking over Audrey. Her tits are still swollen from the pregnancy, and they threaten to bust open the buttons that run down her satin top. I’m going to tear them apart. Later, though. Because beside the table the waiter is clearing his throat, shuffling his feet. His pen is poised on his tiny notepad.

I compose myself enough to order a bottle of wine and a serving of Maisie’s go to spaghetti.

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