We passed Casey, who looked a little shocked that he wasn’t growled at, and I directed Jesse into the elevator and just about coaxed the new code from him. He didn’t tell me it. He just absentmindedly punched in the four digits.
3, 2, 1, 0.
We’re now in the kitchen, Jesse slumped on the stool, still staring at the picture, and me sipping a glass of water, waiting for him to spring back to life. I’ll give him half an hour, and then I’ll chuck some cold water over him.
I go upstairs, call Kate, and listen to her gasp in shock—first at the news of my dramatic car chase, then at the news of twins. I take a shower and dry my hair, then throw on my Thai fisherman pants, smiling when I realize that these will grow with my belly.
When I get back downstairs, Jesse is still sitting motionless at the island, staring at the scan picture.
Feeling a little frustrated, I sit next to him and pull his face to mine. “Are you going to speak anytime soon?”
His eyes roam all over my face for so long, until they eventually land on mine. “I can’t fucking breathe, Ava.”
“I’m shocked, too,” I admit, although clearly not as shocked as he is.
His lip slowly slips through his teeth, which seem to clamp down severely, his cogs firing into action in his head. It makes me immediately wary.
He speaks in a near whisper. “I was a twin.”
Chapter Twenty
I shrink back on my stool and drop his chin, and for the millionth time in one day, I can’t form any words. Nothing. Absolutely zero inspiration is coming to me. I’m more shocked now than at any other point during this long day.
He smiles mildly. “My spirited girl is speechless.”
I am. Well and truly floored, in fact. You would think I’d be used to shock and surprise from this man, but no, he gets me every bloody time.
Reaching up, he strokes my cheek gently and slides his hand onto my neck, circling his thumb on my throat softly. “Have a bath with me,” he says quietly, rising from the stool and pulling me up. “I need to be with you.”
I’m lifted up to his body, my arms sliding around his shoulders and my legs finding their favorite place as he walks us upstairs. It takes no thought or any mental encouragement for my lips to find his neck and kiss him. Just kiss him and smell him and feel him, all of his minty freshness and all of his hard edges comforting me deeply. I’m not going to press him for information. He could’ve easily used our recent news as the reason for his shock and I would have believed him, but he didn’t. He’s shared something, a part of himself. He’s confessed that he was a twin, not that he is a twin. And now his wife is pregnant with twins, and it has clearly unearthed something from deep within him.
He places me on the vanity unit in the bathroom and sets about his usual bath-time routine of testing the temperature, pouring in the bath soak, and swishing to instigate some bubbles. Then he returns to me once he’s done and the bath is full. He reaches to pull my tank top up, resting his lips on mine as he does, and we fall straight into a slow massaging of each other’s tongues as he works my clothing, only pulling away briefly to get my top past my face before we find ourselves again and continue with our sweet, lingering kiss. It’s a special kiss. A really special one, and I delay pulling off his T-shirt, just so I don’t have to leave his lips. This kiss is not leading to an intense lovemaking session. This kiss is leading to him sharing something painful. Right now, when he’s pouring his love into me through our kiss, is his way of finding the strength to tell me his story. It’s his way of ensuring that I’m real before he offloads a past of pain.
My hands find their way under his T-shirt and to the hard, rippling waves of his stomach. “Take it off,” he says between our mouths. “Please, take away everything between us.”
His request makes me falter slightly, but when his lips press a little harder, I find my flow again. That wasn’t just a plea to remove his clothes. I work fast. The urgency to get his bare skin on mine is very quickly my top priority, so I drop his mouth and pull his T-shirt up, then start on his jeans, pushing them down his legs so he can kick them off. I’m pulled down from the unit, my Thai pants are removed and my lace knickers are drawn down my thighs. I don’t miss the quick check for blood. There is none. Our babies are okay. I’m lifted to him, my hands sliding straight into his hair and my lips falling straight to his mouth as he steps into the bath with me wrapped around him and lowers to his knees.
“Is the water okay?” he mumbles as I settle on his thighs.
“Fine.” I press my body into his, my breasts flattening against his chest, my elbows resting on his shoulders while my hands roam all over his head and my lips work relentlessly but softly.