Attainment (temptation) Page 3

  Before I can answer her, she shouts at the top of her lungs. “Hey! Quick! Pull into 7-Eleven.”

  Her sudden outburst shocks the shit out of me and has me veering into the service station. In a slight panic, I bring the car to an abrupt halt. “What! What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” I ask, fear gripping my insides as I reach over and place my hands on her stomach to inspect her for signs of distress.

  “I need a Slurpee. A big one! Oooo, I hope they have bubblegum flavour,” she says with excitement while patting my slightly trembling hands before unbuckling her seatbelt and climbing out of the car. Just before closing the door, she pokes her head back in. “You want anything?”

  “No. I’m all good,” I respond while letting out a breath.

  As I watch her lightly waddle through the shop doors, I drop my head to the steering wheel in exasperation. Jesus fucking Christ! She will be the death of me.

  Talk about giving me a heart attack, and all for a frozen, crushed ice drink, saturated in sugar syrup. Bloody pregnancy cravings. When Alexis was pregnant with Bianca, she preferred potato chips dipped in ice cream. And, as disgusting as that had been, I could stomach the notion and produce that particular craving for her when required. However, the shit she has been eating this time around nearly has me dry retching. I mean, who the hell eats pickles on toast with cheese and mayonnaise? And, did I mention I caught her dipping a carrot into her glass of chocolate milk last week?

  She walks back to the car, happily sucking on her Slurpee.

  I smile. She is just so incredibly cute. “Happy now?” I ask as she sits back in the car and buckles her seat belt.

  Alexis sucks her straw, slurping loudly then smiles back at me. “Yep.”

  “Good.”

  She tilts her drink toward me. “You want some?”

  “No. That shit is basically liquid sugar.”

  “And your problem is?” she asks while stirring the mixture around, seemingly unperturbed by my unhealthy factual statement.

  I glance over at her, the sides of my mouth rising in a smug grin. “My problem is that it’s not good for you.”

  “BB likes it. Look...” she points to her stomach, her expression happily cocky. “...he just high-fived me.”

  Wearing a pair of maternity jeans and a tight fitting grey top, she is all baby-belly.

  “Wait for it...” she says in anticipation.

  I humour her and wait, staring at her tummy.

  “Ha! See?” she giggles, as her tummy jerks ever so slightly, showcasing my son’s movement. “You like Slurpees just like Mummy does, don’t you BB?” she coos in her mummy-baby voice.

  Seeing her stomach move like that fills me with a feeling of complete awe, love, and astonishment. I could watch it all day. I remember back to the first time I felt BB kick—BB? Bloody hell! I can’t believe she has me referring to my son as the letter B squared. Annoyed at myself for allowing such a ridiculous nickname for my unborn son, I decide I really need to do something about it sooner rather than later.

  Bringing my gaze back to her happy face, I go to complain about the absurd name but am halted as I take in the joy radiating from her while she rubs her tummy.

  “Mummy likes the bubblegum and cola flavour, BB. But next time we will try grape, what do you reckon?”

  Her hand jerks again, and we both laugh. I decide now is not the time to bury the nickname BB and, instead, return to my recollection of when I first felt my son move. It was shortly after we found out that he was a boy. We were lying in bed after just having a bath together, and Alexis was playfully singing “Kiss You All Over” by Exile, because I had only just moments before kissed her all over. She’d started the chorus then paused mid-word, ‘...he kicked!’ she’d blurted out, looking at me as though being internally booted was extremely pleasurable. ‘Quick! Quick! Give me your hand.’ She’d then grabbed my hand and pressed it against her stomach. The wait for movement was the weirdest anticipation I had ever felt. I knew what a baby kicking my hand was like, because I had experienced Alexander do it to Lucy. But waiting to feel the first movement of your own child was...well, it was surreal—exciting, but strangely tense.

  When that first bump finally nudged my hand, a sensation of sheer fucking joy had spread through me like wildfire. My child was alive, growing, and playfully moving around inside the woman I love. I’d felt the joy from the smile plastered across my face, travel to the heart pounding in my chest, and right down to my feet which had been twitching with excitement. Best bloody experience, ever!

  Still sitting in the car at the 7-Eleven car park, and fixing my stare toward Alexis’ stomach where my son is happily practising his martial arts skills, I reach over and gently lay my hand across her bump. She looks up at me and her expression changes from cheeky playfulness to one of heartfelt love.

  Placing her hand over mine, she asks our son to move again. “Daddy wants a high-five, BB.”

  We wait for what seems like minutes when, in actual fact, it was probably only seconds. Our hands jerk in unison, causing my heart to pound with excitement. Ahhh, there it is.

  “Good boy,” I praise him then gently fist-bump her tummy.

  Alexis interlaces our fingers together then rests our hands on the centre console of the car, and with her free hand, she lifts the Slurpee to her mouth, smiles, and takes another loud gulp. I shake my head and grin, clenching her hand a little tighter to indicate a sense of amused affection. It’s the little things like this without spoken words that I cherish with her. We fit each other so perfectly.

  * * *

  After picking up the kids from school, we head home to surprise them with the completion of the apartment. As we step into the elevator, I hit the penthouse button and stand back. Instantly, Nate questions my choice—the kid doesn’t miss a beat; he is so switched on.

  “Are we going to check the renovations?” he asks, curiously.

  “No, even better,” I reply, waggling my eyebrows.

  Nate wrinkles his forehead then delighted understanding appears on his face in the form of wide eyes. “It’s finished? Are we moving back in?” he asks, looking from Alexis then back to me.

  Charlotte pauses her dancing to non-existent music and shoots her head up. “What?”

  “I don’t know, Bryce. Do you think they are ready to see their new home?” Alexis teasingly asks.

  “Hmmm, not sure,” I respond, going along with her charade. “They may not like it.”

  “Is my room pink?” Charlotte squeals, jumping up and down. “Oh, I hope it’s pink...even pinker than last time. I love pink. Wait! I like purple too. Is it purple?”

  “You are just going to have to wait and see Charli-Bear,” Alexis states with a smile.

  “I don’t care what colour my room is, as long as it’s not pink...or purple...or maybe even yellow,” Nate adds.

  “Good, ‘cause yours is white and blue, little fella,” I say proudly. “Carn’ the mighty Cats!”

  I watch his face as his eyes search mine for the slightest tell-tale sign that I’m bluffing. Nate is a one-eyed Bomber’s supporter like his Mum.

  “Mum,” Nate says hesitantly. “Please tell me he’s joking.”

  I glance at Alexis, trying not to laugh and give myself away. I wonder for a moment if she’ll play along and taunt Nate or if she’ll cave and stay true to her beloved football team. The inner struggle is evident on her face, and I can’t help but chuckle at her attempt to prevent it from screwing up.

  “Nate, my little man,” she says with gritted teeth while giving me that sexy fucking determined glare. She straightens her stance and smiles satisfactorily at me before turning her head to face her son. “Would I ever let Bryce decorate your room in anything other than the Bomber’s colours?”

  Nate sighs with relief. “No. You wouldn’t.” He then turns to me, and a spark of satisfaction appears to surge through him as he fires a shit-eating grin in my direction. “When you least expect it, Bryce. You may find a clown sleeping in your
bed.”

  Alexis bursts out laughing. I, on the other hand, do not find that little threat funny at all.

  “Really?” I ask Nate.

  He just nods. Yeah, I wonder who he gets his cockiness from.

  “Bryce,” Charlotte interrupts, her sweet little angelic voice laced with concern. I feel her hand gently clasp mine. “Clowns aren’t real, you know. And neither are ghosts, or witches.” Her look of sincerity is both adorable and...well...humiliating. Here is a seven year-old girl, telling a thirty seven year-old man not to be afraid of clowns because they aren’t real, when in fact they freakin’ are. In this moment, my testosterone levels sink dramatically. I’m a fucking coulrophobic pansy.

  I pull her to my side and give her a hug. “Thanks, Charli.”

  Alexis, who is still trying to refrain from laughing at my awkward you-have-no-balls moment, winks at Charli when the doors to the elevator open. We all step out, and Alexis and I hang back, my arm around her shoulder and hers around my waist. We watch the excitement filter from the kids as they explore their new surroundings.

  “It’s just like before, but it’s not,” Nate says, displaying an expression of slight confusion.

  “I don’t know about the brown, Mum,” Charlotte says with aversion.

  “What’s wrong with the brown?”

  “Brown is poo colour.”

  Alexis laughs. “It’s also chocolate colour.”

  Charlotte spins around slowly with her hands on her hips. “Yeah, but it’s not pretty.”

  “We don’t want the lounge area to be pretty,” I explain.

  “Why not?” Because it’s a God damn lounge, not a fairy palace.

  Alexis squeezes my hip then lets go. “If you want pretty, Charli, go see your room.”

  She squeals that high pitched, burst-my-fucking-eardrums-squeal that she is good at, then makes her way upstairs, Nate, Alexis and I following behind.

  The new staircase spirals round in a large curve, deliberately designed that way so it feels like you are walking up a hill rather than a steep incline. Alexis was adamant when we discussed the new designs that she did not want a vertical staircase. And I honestly can’t say that I blame her. I think her fall from a year ago still plays on her mind. It probably always will.

  Nate calls out from his room. “Sick!” And I know immediately what he has just found.

  “Oh my God!” Charlotte squeals, and again I know why.

  I turn to Alexis, stopping her in her tracks. “You take Charli. My ears can’t handle her vocal range. I’ll take Nate,” I say, before hurrying off to Nate’s room—his surprise is far more appealing to me than Charli’s replacement 4Life memorabilia.

  When I walk through his door, he is already opening the boxes. “These are awesome!” he says, sheer delight covering his face.

  I’m fully aware of how awesome they are, having wanted to try one out for days. “These are the Walkera HM Airwolfs,” I explain to him.

  Nate rotates one of the boxes, taking in the picture. “Sweet!”

  He has no idea just how sweet these babies are.

  With both Nate and I sitting on the floor of his room, we waste no time in putting the remote control helicopters together. Nate hangs on every word that I say as I instruct him with the assembly of the aircraft. Appreciation and fondness fill me when I look at him, as I see his mother’s determination and intelligence, not to mention he has her blue eyes. From the moment I met Nate—that very first time he came to visit his Mum’s place of work—I couldn’t help but form a bond with him. He has so much of Alexis flowing through him and possesses an uncanny ability to read most situations surrounding him. He really is a smart and loving kid.

  “Spin that rotor blade there, Nate,” I instruct.

  He does what he’s told then smiles as it spins effortlessly. “It works!”

  “I think we are done,” I say in response and get up from my seated position on the floor.

  “Thanks, Bryce. I like doing these things with you.”

  The honesty in his words and on his face pulls at my heart. I have no doubt that I love him like a father does. But at the same time, I am fully aware that he has a father, a father that loves him dearly. One thing that I never want to do is step on Rick’s toes where Nate and Charli are concerned, but that doesn’t mean I cannot love them and show them both in my own little way.

  “You’re welcome, Mate,” I say as I scruff his hair with my hand. And, as always, he jerks his head away playfully. “I like doing these things with you, too. Now, let’s get these babies up in the air where they belong.”

  We place them down on the desk and take a step back, pointing the radio transmitters in their direction. With a hum and a buzz, both of them hover off the desk. I take control instantly, circling it around the room. Nate, however, needing a little longer to perfect his new piloting skills. Surprisingly though, he takes a lot less time than I expected he would need and, before I know it, we have them flying beautifully out of the room. Nate follows me into the passageway, our eyes trained intently on the hovering choppers.

  Alexis and Charli duck out of our way with a scream.

  “Shit! Sorry,” I smile apologetically.

  “My bad!” Nate chimes in a little less remorseful.

  Alexis shakes her head and pulls Charli to her side. “I knew those things were a bad idea. Did you have to buy two of them?”

  “Actually...” I reply with a smirk while keeping my vision solely on my helicopter. I slowly walk past Alexis and Charlotte and head for the stairs, Nate following in tow. “...I bought four.”

  “Four! Why four? I don’t want one,” Alexis exclaims with a little disgust.

  “It’s not for you.”

  “Who’s it fo—“ she cuts herself off and sighs. “Bryce, BB’s not even born yet.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The buzzer to the door sounds, indicating Rick’s arrival to pick up Nate and Charli for the weekend. Standing in the kitchen, I’m in the midst of preparing a spinach, cheese, and tomato omelette for Alexis’ lunch, the dish being high in protein, folic acid, and magnesium which I found out is not only good for her but also good for our baby.

  Wiping my hands on the tea towel, I toss it on the bench top and head for the lounge. When I walk into the room, I spot Rick behind Alexis, his hand on her shoulder and the other pushed firmly into her lower back.

  Neither of them seem to notice me at first, any as I stand there watching him place his hands on her, assisting with whatever the fuck he is assisting with, it makes my blood boil.

  “Is it there?” Rick asks her.

  “Yeah,” she winces. “It’s not as bad as when I carried Charli, but it still hurts.”

  “Thought as much. I could tell straight away when I walked in that it was bothering you.”

  Not being able to stand there any longer and watch their exchange, wanting to know what is hurting Alexis and why Rick knows about it and I don’t, I make my presence known. “Is everything alright?” I ask, desperately trying to curb my resentment.

  Rick drops his hands and takes a step back just as Alexis straightens and stretches, arching her back and poking out her tummy. The discomfort on her face is obviously present. Where the fuck has this soreness come from?

  “Yeah,” she murmurs, unaware of the fact that what I just witnessed between her and Rick has unsettled me.

  “Bryce,” Rick says with a nod of his head while extending his hand.

  The last thing I want to do is shake the fucker’s hand, instead wanting to break it for providing relief to my pregnant fiancé’s back. I really can’t help it. Seeing him with her pisses me off, infusing me with jealousy. But, at the same time, I do know deep down inside that my reaction to their interaction with one another is completely unreasonable. Regardless, he still irritates me.

  I honestly hate feeling this way. I’m not normally the jealous type. And I’m not afraid to say the reason for this is probably due to the fact that I always get what I want
, therefore never being in a position to be jealous in the first place. That being said, this feeling is somewhat foreign to me, only having felt it one time before—when Alexis was married.

  Begrudgingly, I shake Rick’s hand as I stand by Alexis and instantly place mine on her lower back, wanting to remove his touch and replace it with my own.

  “Not long to go now,” Rick insinuates, nodding toward Alexis’ stomach.

  “No. Four weeks and two days,” I reply, wanting to reiterate that I know exactly how long.

  “Well, yeah, if she delivers on her due date. Alexis tends to go into labour early.” He smiles at her knowingly, and it takes all the restraint I have to refrain from knocking him the fuck out.

  “Dad!” Charli yells, as she comes around the large central pillar that leads to the stairs.

  “Princess! Come and give me a big hug.”

  Charli drops her shiny pink suitcase and launches herself at Rick.

  He lifts her up and places her on his hip, grimacing playfully. “You’ve grown again since I saw you last.”

  “Well yeah, Dad,” Charli rolls her eyes. “I slept four times since then, so I’ve grown four times. Miss James says you grow in your sleep. Did you know that?”

  “I do now. Where’s my kiss?” Rick asks, puckering his lips like an idiot.

  I notice Alexis smiling at their exchange and it irritates me even more.

  “Nate, come on,” Ricks yells. “We’ve got the footy this afternoon.”

  “Coming, geez, don’t go all loco on me,” Nate answers while entering the room.

  “Loco?”

  “Don’t ask, Rick,” Alexis says before giving both Nate and Charli a kiss goodbye. “Now be good, and I’ll see you after school on Monday.”

  They hug their mum before fist-bumping me and then walking out the door.

  After they are gone, I waste no time in finding out what the hell is wrong with Alexis’ back. “Wanna tell me what’s wrong with your back?” I ask, my tone deliberately snappy.

  She gives me an unsure look. “I get back spasms. Why? What’s wrong? Why are you angry?”