Miles Ever After (Miles High Series)

Emily

The elevator doors open and I step out into the foyer. “Hi, Sammia.” I smile as I walk through reception.

“Thank god you’re here.” She widens her eyes.

I giggle, I know that look.

“One of those days, is it?” I ask.

“You could say that.”

“My husband is a grump.”

“You’re a good woman.” Sammia smirks as she turns back to her computer. “He’s in his office.”

“Thanks.” I head down the corridor. I’ve taken the afternoon off work and have come to check on Jameson, something is off.

I’m not sure what’s going on with him at the moment but I can always gauge his stress levels by the way we have sex. The more stressed out he is, the rougher the sex.

We haven’t made love for weeks and weeks and yet we fuck hard every day.

Then yesterday, he went for three runs, one in the morning, one when he got home and then another at 10 p.m. before he went to bed…so I think it’s pretty safe to say, my husband is stressed.

But what else is new?

Jameson Miles is a ball of restless energy, the kind that can’t be calmed with a run in Central Park, no matter how fast he goes.

I knock on his door. “Knock, knock.”

“What is it?” he calls.

Jeez.

I smirk and open the door; I find him staring at his computer screen.

“What do you want?” he asks without looking up.

“Human resources sent me up to see you, sir, I got caught watching porn on my work computer.”

His eyes rise to meet mine and he stares at me for a beat. “Is that so?”

“Yes, sir.”

His jaw clenches as his gaze drops to my toes and back up to my face and he runs his tongue over his teeth.

I’m not playing fair, I’m here for one reason and one reason only.

Desk-fuck my man.

I’m wearing my sexiest secretary outfit, the one that he loves. Gray skirt and silk blouse, complete with suspender belt and crotchless panties.

“And what were you watching?” he replies curtly.

“Sucking the CEO’s Cock, sir.”

His eyebrow rises, he picks up a remote and pushes the button, I hear the door click locked behind me.

“And why would you watch Sucking the CEO’s Cock?” he asks, void of emotion.

“It’s a fantasy that I haven’t explored yet.”

“Is that so?”

“I….” I pause for added effect. “I just always wondered what you’d taste like…. I know you’re married but….” I shrug.

Why is being naughty so fun?

“But what?” he snaps.

“I was just wondering if there was any way I could suck you off, sir?”

He inhales sharply and sits back in his chair; we stare at each other. The air swirling between us.

I love this game.

“This is a media company, Emily. Not a brothel.”

“Yes, sir, I know.”

“If my wife ever found out.”

“She won’t.” I lick my lips and my eyes drop to his crotch. “I swear to you on my life.”

He stands and unzips his suit trousers. “Get on your fucking knees,” he growls.

I drop to the floor as I try to keep myself from smiling, even now.

Married to him for over a year, role-playing this is my favorite thing.

Perverted.

He walks over and pushes the hair back from my face as he looks down at me, his thumb swipes over my lips. “You be a good girl and show me what you think about.”

I nod and open my mouth; he drags the tip of his cock over my tongue and I taste the pre-ejaculate as it smears across my tastebuds.

He hisses in approval. “I’m going to fuck your dirty little mouth, Emily.”

Arousal thrums through me.

“And you are going to regret your misdemeanor.” He grabs my hair in his

hands aggressively. “Aren’t you?”

“No, sir.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Did you say no to me?”

I nod, butterflies dancing in my stomach, no matter how well I know this man or how much he loves me, there’s always an edge of danger when I poke the bear.

I nod.

“Big mistake.” He slides his cock so far down my throat that I gag, but that doesn’t stop him. He pushes in deeper until my eyes water.

I pull off him with a cough.

He chuckles. “Don’t bother coughing, wimp.” He pushes himself into my mouth again and again, my hair is gripped in his two hands as he fucks my mouth.

Hard and unapologetic.

Just how I like it.

I imagine what we must look like, me on my knees in his office. Him…

riding my mouth. Pumping me over and over to the sound of his labored breathing.

I feel him harden even further and I clench my legs together, he’s going to come without me.

“Suck me,” he growls. “Harder.” His grip on my hair is near painful and next thing I know he pulls me to my feet and bends me over his desk, he lifts my skirt and hisses as he sees my suspenders and crotchless panties. “Fuck yeah.”

He slams into me in one sharp movement as he pushes my face into the desk with an open hand on my cheek as he holds me still.

“Oh…” I whimper, completely taken over by the dominance of this man.

Perfection.

He rides me hard, and I see stars. His thick cock taking exactly what it needs from my body. The sound of my wet flesh sucking him in and I spiral out of control as a tidal wave of pleasure rolls over me.

He slams in once, twice…three times, and then holds himself deep as his body takes over. Releasing his pent-up emotions, coming hard deep inside my body.

We pant, trying to come back to earth, and he pulls me to my feet and kisses me tenderly.

So different to the way he just took me.

But that’s us. A normal day.

The perfect contradiction.

He holds my face in his hands as he kisses me again. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Miles.” He smiles darkly against my lips.

“You’re a fucking deviant,” I whisper.

He pulls down my skirt and rearranges my shirt. “And you’re full of me, so I win.”

He falls into his office chair and pulls me down onto his lap, he nuzzles his head into my breast and just sits for a while.

While I’m instantly sated and softened, I feel an undertone of anxiety from him. Uneasiness rolls over me, he is really wound up. I can still feel it within him, oozing from his soul.

I glance over and see a half-drunk glass of scotch on his desk and then look at the time on his computer: 1 p.m.

“Why are you day drinking?” I ask.

He sighs in an overexaggerated way. “Don’t.”

“Jameson. Don’t don’t me.” I stand. “You are too stressed, this has got to stop.”

“I’m fine, don’t carry on and ruin it.”

“Do you understand that we cannot try for a baby until you get this stress under control?”

“I do not have time for a vacation, Emily.”

“Yes you do. I’m calling Tristan, he can come and fill in for you.”

He rolls his eyes, unimpressed. “Did you come here to take me to lunch or what?”

“Don’t change the subject,” I snap, I pick up the glass of scotch and pour it down the sink. “I came here to suck your dick actually, no more day drinking.” I tell him.

“Yes, Mom.”

“Yes,” I snap. “That is exactly right, I want to be a mother. You keep wanting to try for a baby and yet you are so stressed you are drinking scotch just to get through the day. This is not the environment I want our baby to be born into, Jay.”

He exhales heavily, knowing I’m right.

The thing is, I’ve already been secretly trying for a baby. As soon as he told me he wanted a baby, I went off the pill. I know I should have told him, but lovemaking is Jameson’s safe place, the only time where he completely switches off and gets lost in the moment.

When he needs an escape from pressure, he has me, and we have this.

A beautiful act between two people in love.

And I know him, the minute I tell him that we are actively trying, he will tie it to a target and become obsessed and get stressed if we don’t fall. I’d rather just surprise him when the time comes if we are blessed.

“I’m booking a vacation for us, we need to get away.”

He rolls his eyes.

“And you are coming home with me now.”

“I am not coming home now.”

I lean over him and shut down his computer. “You have no say in it.”

He sits still in his chair and I sit back down on his lap and take him into my arms. “Baby…listen to me. I love you; I want us to have a long and healthy life together. Don’t you want that?”

“I do.”

“It’s time to unplug for a little while. Do you really think that I can’t feel what’s going on inside of you at the moment?”

His eyes hold mine.

“The deadlines and spreadsheets, the directors…all of it means nothing if you have no quality of life.” I kiss him softly and brush the hair back from his forehead, “You have an extremely high-pressured job and it’s only natural that you get wound up. But you need to learn how to switch off. You are not at your best when you are like this, not to me, or Miles Media, or your brothers and parents. Least of all to yourself.”

His hands tighten around me as he listens.

“Wouldn’t it be great to come into work each morning feeling refreshed and rested? To not have your mind racing between the million tabs that are open.”

He exhales heavily, and I know that he knows that I’m right.

“We’re going home.” I pull him up by the hand and straighten the desk up. I collect his things and put his briefcase over my shoulder. I lead him out through reception and the girls look up when they see us.

“I’m leaving for the day,” he tells Sammia.

“Yes, okay.” She smiles. “Good idea.”

“And he’s taking some time off, I just have to work out with Tristan when he can come and cover for him,” I add.

“We’ll see about that.” Jameson rolls his eyes. “I’m being hijacked,

Sammia, do you see this?”

Sammia smiles and we walk into the elevator, the doors close and we turn to face them.

“You know what the girls on reception are talking about right now?” he says casually.

“That I love you and that I’m taking care of my husband’s mental health?” I smile goofily up at him.

“No.” He straightens his tie. “Not even close.”

“Then what are they saying?”

“That you smell like come.” He grabs my sex with his hand.

“Stop.” I laugh out loud as I swat him away as I look up at the cameras. “I do not smell like come,” I splutter.

Oh my god, do I?

He throws me a sexy wink. “Trust me, you do.”

The car pulls into the large circular driveway as nerves dance in my stomach.

I did it.

I got Jameson to take time off and come away; Tristan is covering at work for him and everything is going exactly to plan.

There’s just one little problem.

Jay thinks we are in Thailand to go to a fancy resort, I haven’t told him we are actually here to go to a wellness retreat.

No alcohol, healthy food, meditation, daily Chinese medicine healing sessions, tai chi, Pilates, and massages.

Jameson Miles’ worst nightmare.

He frowns as he looks out of the car window. “What is this?”

“Surprise.” I smile hopefully.

He raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean, surprise?”

“Well.” I lean over him and open his door. “We wanted to wind down and this is the place to do it.”

“What do you mean?”

Damn it, I’m going to have to just come out with it.

“We are booked into a wellness retreat, baby. Isn’t this great?”

“What?” He pulls the car door closed. “No way in fucking hell, Emily.”

“Jameson,” I say sternly. “Get out of the car.”

“No.” He pushes the lock down on the door. “This is the relaxing holiday you booked,” he whispers angrily. “I can’t fucking believe you.”

The driver chuckles from the front seat.

“This is not funny,” Jameson snaps. “Drive.”

The driver’s eyes flick to mine in the rearview mirror for approval.

“Do not drive,” I snap. “Stop being a big baby. Get out of the car, Jameson. Right now.”

“Absolutely not.” He crosses his arms. “I am not staying in this godforsaken fucking hippy place.”

“Well, I am.”

“Good. Have fun eating grass.”

Seriously?

“Jameson, I want to wind down and this is where I want to do it. Can’t you just come here for me?”

“No.”

I begin to get angry.

“It’s either this or camping for a month in Thailand, the choice is yours,”

I snap. “And it’s wet season and the mosquitos are Jurassic Park sized.”

He opens his mouth to say something and I cut him off.

“I’m not even joking, Jameson. Do not piss me off,” I whisper angrily. “I am sick to death of living with a fucking stress head so if you can’t come here and try to relax for me, then why are we even married? What is the fucking point?”

He narrows his eyes and glares at me.

I get out of the car in a huff, I am going in and if he doesn’t stay here with me it’s going to be World War Three.

Prepare yourself, fucker.

The driver pops the trunk and gets out to help me with the bags. “Just the one?” he asks.

“Both bags,” I snap.

If he isn’t staying then he’s not getting his things either, screw him.

Thankfully I’m smarter than him.

I knew he would do this so in a premeditated attack I snuck the credit cards out of his wallet while we were on the plane. He has to stay, whether he likes it or not.

Even if he leaves now, he has to come back later.

I begin to roll the two large suitcases down the driveway and I can feel him watching me from the car.

Is he coming?

I get to the grand front steps and two doormen run out to meet me.

“Hello, hello.” They smile as they grab my suitcases from me. “Let me take those.”

“Thank you.” I smile as I glance back at the car and see Jameson’s scowling face through the car window.

I can’t fucking believe him.

I walk to the front reception desk. “Hello, welcome. Can I help you?” The receptionist smiles.

“Yes.” I smile awkwardly as I slide over my credit card. “I’m checking in today. The name is Emily Miles.”

I glance over my shoulder to see the car I arrived in has gone.

He left?

I begin to hear my angry heartbeat in my ears, I went to so much trouble and begged them to fit us in because they were booked out and then I had to keep it a secret and the whole rigmarole and he fucking left without even looking at the place. Typical pigheaded Jameson Miles.

This means war.

The kind receptionist types into her computer as I wait in silence.

Where’s he going to go? He has no money. Then I remember who he is.

Who am I kidding? He could talk his way into any five-star resort, they probably have a poster of his face in their staff rooms.

Boom, boom, boom…my angry heartbeat sounds in my ears.

“I have you in the deluxe penthouse for the entirety of your stay.”

I force a smile. “Thank you, that sounds wonderful.”

“You’ll be shown to your room and then your master will come and collect you and give you the tour.”

I frown, confused. “Okay?”

“Master?” Jameson says flatly from behind me. “Master of what?”

I jump, startled by his voice, and turn back toward him and relief fills me.

You’re so lucky.

“Don’t talk to me,” he mouths, he steps to the desk in front of me as he attempts to take over. “How long is the booking for?”

“Twenty-one days.”

“Twenty-one….” He rolls his fingers on the desk as he gives me the side

eye. “Yeah, that’s not happening. We will be checking out tomorrow, thank you.”

She smiles up at him and then at me as if hearing this conversation many times before.

“Bjorn. Can you show Mr. and Mrs. Miles to their suite, please?”

“Sure.” A big burly blond man wearing all white comes over. “This way, please.” He takes off in front of us and I go to grab Jameson’s hand and he flicks me away. “Don’t touch me.”

“Your room is through the garden of tranquility,” Bjorn says in a monotone voice. “We must give thanks as we walk through and into the next stage of your life.”

Jameson rolls his eyes. “Fuck me,” he mouths.

I bite my lip to hide my smile.

We follow him out through the double doors and through the most beautiful garden, I have to admit, it really is very tranquil.

Perfectly manicured lush green lawns and perfect gardens. There’s a huge water feature in the middle with a waterfall coming out of it down to a lower-level garden where lilies are floating. Bjorn stops in front of it, closes his eyes and bows with his hands in a praying gesture.

Jameson grabs his dick and I put my face into my hands.

Oh my god.

“Come, join me, give thanks,” Bjorn says.

“Okay.” I put my hands in a praying gesture like his and try to copy what he’s doing.

Jeez, this really is over the top.

Maybe Jameson is right and this is going to be one giant clusterfuck.

“Where is my room?” Jameson snaps impatiently from behind us.

Bjorn looks Jameson square in the eye and smiles calmly, so calmly that it’s kind of eerie. “This way.” He walks in front of us.

Jameson taps his temple. “He’s fucking tapped,” he mouths. “Probably a serial killer.”

I’m beginning to wonder.

We follow him through gardens and down winding paths and over a bridge and my god, this property really is magical.

We finally get to a beautiful cabana overlooking the sea. “This is your new home for the foreseeable future.”

“Wow,” I gush, I turn to see that even Jameson is a little impressed.

Bjorn opens the front door and we are hit in the face with a stark simplicity. All white furnishings, walls, ceilings and floors.

We walk in and look around. “It’s…beautiful.” I smile. “Wow.”

Bjorn points to two large baskets. “First thing you need to do is to wash off the world.”

“Wash off the what?” Jameson frowns.

“Shower using the salt scrub in the pots, rub it into your skin as a cleanse.

Wash each other, enjoy the experience.”

Jameson’s stone-cold eyes stare at Bjorn.

“Put all of your possessions into these baskets.” He taps the basket and then hands us white outfits that look similar to scrubs. “These are the clothes that you will adorn while here. There are no personal possessions to distract you.”

Jameson stares at him as if his brain is misfiring.

“This will free you, Mr. Miles.”

“Or free you to steal my shit.”

“Put all electronics and your clothes into the baskets and leave your suitcases by the door. We will put those into storage, you may keep your toiletries bag if you wish, but we would prefer you to use our organic products for your stay.”

“No phones?” I frown.

“No internet, and no phones,” Bjorn replies. “No watches, no time. No distractions.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Jameson sighs. “I’m out.”

Bjorn smiles calmly. “Shower, wash the world off each other and then your master will come to collect you.”

“To do what?” Jameson snaps.

“Tonight you both have a two-hour massage followed by a hot oil bath, a beautiful dinner followed by an offering of tropical fruit.”

Jameson puts his weight onto his back foot and I can tell even he likes the sound of that.

I smile goofily. “Thank you, that sounds wonderful.”

He bows his head and without another word he walks out the door and closes it behind him.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Jameson snaps.

I shrug. “It’s fun.”

“Nothing about this is fucking fun, Emily.”

“We get to wash the world off each other.” I try to sweeten the deal.

“I have never been less aroused than I am in this moment.”

I put my hand over my mouth and laugh. “Just get in the shower.”

“You get in the fucking shower,” he whispers angrily. “I am not putting my phone in that stupid fucking basket.”

“Three days.”

“What?”

“If you do what they ask for three days, we can leave.” I hold the towel out to him.

“Newsflash deluded one. I’ll leave whenever I fucking want.”

I put my hands onto my hips. “Get in the shower before I drown you in it.”

He drags his hand down his face and once again I get the giggles. “You have to admit this is pretty funny.”

“Not one bit.” He snatches the towel from me. “You don’t need to drown me, I’m drowning myself.” He storms into the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

I open the door and peer around it. “I thought we were washing each other.”

“Get out before you cause a murder-suicide,” he growls, infuriated.

I giggle again.

He showers and walks out with a towel around his waist and sees that I’ve already put my things into the basket.

“You’re really putting your phone in there?”

“Uh-huh,”

“What if there’s an emergency?”

“Tristan will call us here.”

“He knows about this?” he fumes.

“He found this place for me.”

“I’m going to fucking kill him with my bare hands.”

I go up onto my tippy-toes and kiss his big, beautiful lips. “Please, Jay, if you can’t do this for you. Do it for me.” I put his hand over my stomach. “For our future.”

He exhales deeply as his eyes hold mine.

“Three days is all I’m asking.”

He hesitates and I know he wants to leave, but I also know that deep down he would do anything to make me happy. “Fine.”

I bounce on the spot. “Thank you.” I pass him the white outfit and he begrudgingly puts it on. The linen pants are white and baggy with a matching shirt.

“Oh, you look like a hot dentist.” I smile excitedly.

“It’s ironic that you say that.” He looks down at himself, unimpressed.

“I’m currently imagining pulling your teeth out, one by one.”

I giggle, I really wish I could record his reactions to things so I could watch it back later, this is comedy gold.

I shower and dress in the white scrubs and walk out to find Jameson sitting on the bed. “Did you put your phone into the basket?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“And your watch?”

He raises his eyebrow.

I smile. “Good boy.”

He closes his eyes as if searching for divine guidance. “Don’t patronize me, Emily, I’m on the fucking edge.”

Knock, knock sounds at the door.

“You better get that; Master Splinter is here,” he mutters dryly.

I open the door to see an older Thai man, he’s wearing a deep red cloak and looks all mystical like a Tibetan monk or something. “Hello.”

He gives me a calm smile. “Hello, my child.”

My heart skips a beat. Oh he feels magical.

“My name is Chakrii; I am your master for your stay here.”

“Hello, I’m Emily and this is my husband, Jameson.” I introduce us.

Jameson stands and shakes his hand. “Hello.”

Chakrii smiles and holds Jameson’s hand in his, he frowns up at him.

“Your mind is very busy.”

Hit the nail on the head.

Jameson glares at him.

“Yes,” I reply. “That’s why we’re here. He needs to find his peace.”

Chakrii smiles. “You’ve come to the right place, my friend.”

Jameson stays silent and I know that he must be able to feel Chakrii’s presence like I can.

“Come, let’s do the tour.”

Over the next hour we walk all over the most beautiful resort I have ever seen; we see temples and healing rooms, gardens, and gymnasiums, we walk through the kitchens and meet the chefs. Wander through the waterfalls and over the streams.

Wow, I am awed by this place.

We end up on a cliff face overlooking the ocean, the sun is just setting over the water and Chakrii sits cross-legged on a huge rock shelf and looks out over the sea.

“Sit.” He taps the rock beside him. “Be at one with nature.”

I sit down on the rock and Jameson exhales heavily. “How much are we paying to sit on this fucking rock?” he mutters under his breath.

I widen my eyes at him and with a subtle shake of his head he eventually sits down beside me.

“Close your eyes,” Chakrii tells us. “Inhale the sea air.” He inhales deeply through his nose, and then exhales through his mouth. “Breathe in the sea air and breathe out to release your worries. Imagine the problems of the world leaving your body as if they are a tangible force.” He continues to breathe in and out with his eyes closed. “A flower…coming back to life. Feel yourself be reborn unto this earth.”

Jameson’s face is flat and uninterested and I really want to laugh out loud, but I won’t. I tap him on the leg. “Close your eyes,” I mouth.

“Fuck off,” he mouths back.

I close my eyes and try to follow Chakrii’s breathing pattern and after a while I open one eye to see what Jameson is doing.

He’s staring at me deadpan.

“What are you doing?” I whisper.

“Judging you.”

I get the giggles and close my eyes.

We sit on the rock for a long time, the sun slowly sets over the water and it gets darker.

“Are we done here?” Jameson asks.

“We will never be done here.” Chakrii smiles as if he knows a secret, he continues to breathe deeply in through his nose and out through his mouth.

“Well, I’m done here.” Jameson stands. “My ass is hurting. I’ll see you back at the room.” He storms off, my heart sinks as I watch him disappear over the hill.

Chakrii smiles calmly and takes my hand in his. “It takes time, my child, do not worry about your husband. Concentrate on your own journey.”

He holds my hand in his and we sit on the rock and stare out to sea.

I feel a little deflated, a little pensive, and I’m wondering if I have done the right thing, I really hope this works out.

Two wonderful hours of the best massage I’ve ever had, a hot oil bath and now this.

We are sitting at a private dining table on the beach, candles are on the table and the waiters are serving up our dinner. The sound of the waves gently lapping at the shore are echoing up the mountain.

My god, this place is heaven.

Jameson is quiet but even he can’t deny how amazing today has been.

The last of our food is set out on the table and Jameson eyes it suspiciously. “Where is the meat?” he asks.

“We are vegan.”

Jameson’s face falls. “Vegan?”

“I trust you will enjoy your meal, sir.” The waiter smiles. “Try it, you will be pleasantly surprised. Our chefs are world class.”

“Any chance of a glass of wine?” Jameson asks.

“No, sir.”

“Not even the organic vegan shitty type?”

“No, sir.”

“That’s fine, thank you.” I cut them off.

The waiter leaves us alone and Jameson exhales. “You know, when I met you on the plane and you guessed that I was married to a vegan yoga nut, you failed to mention that you planned on turning into her.” He sits back in his chair. “Was this your strategic plan all along?”

I smile softly and take his hand over the table. “I love you.” I lift his hand and kiss the back of it. “So much.”

He gives me a stifled smile. “You better.”

My heart swells, he doesn’t hate me after all.

“Yoga starts tomorrow,” I reply.

“Oh goody, I can’t wait,” he mutters dryly.

We eat our dinner and just as promised, it’s beautiful. The fresh fruit for dessert is divine.

“I’m so sleepy from my massage,” I say with a stretch. “How do you feel?”

“Slimy.”

“What?” I frown.

“That oil bath is up in my regions; I’ve got slimy ass cheeks, I’m about to slip off this chair.”

I burst out laughing and so does he.

Tomorrow is a new day.

I wake with a start, alone in bed.

The light filtering through the windows tells me it’s early, but where is Jameson?

I climb out of bed and walk out of the bedroom to see him on the front veranda.

I watch him for a moment, wearing his all whites, he walks up and then he walks back. He walks up and then back.

Pacing, like a caged animal.

“Good morning,” I say as I walk out through the door.

“Hi.” His hands are on his hips and he’s completely distracted.

“What’s wrong?”

“They took my things; I don’t have my runners.”

“Oh.” I drop to sit on the steps. “You missed your run?”

He walks up and then he walks back.

“What time do you reckon it is?” he asks.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, it fucking matters. I don’t have time to just hang around here all fucking day and do nothing.”

“There’s lots of fucking in that sentence.”

“Don’t start.”

Jeez.

He walks up and then he walks back, he walks up and then he walks back.

What the hell? Why is he so wound up?

“Good morning,” a voice calls, we look up to see a big burly man in the white uniform. “I’m Jarden, I’m here for your stretch class.” He has a yoga mat under his arm.

Jameson narrows his eyes. “The what?”

“We start our day with breath work and stretching.”

“For the love of god.” Jameson sighs. “Make it stop.”

I roll my lips to hide my smile. “He can go first.” I stand, I have to let them take over, Jameson is obviously having some kind of episode here. I walk back inside and peer through the curtains to secretly watch.

Jarden rolls out the mat onto the sand. “Lie down on your stomach.”

“What do you mean?”

“On your stomach.”

Jameson lies down on his stomach and Jarden begins to rub his back, he puts his hands in his hair and begins to massage his scalp, Jameson swats his hand away. “My scalp doesn’t need stretching, you fool.”

I put my hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing out loud.

Honestly.

He steps over Jameson so that he has one foot either side of his body and grabs his two arms and pulls them. “Ahh,” Jameson complains.

Jarden puts his foot between Jameson’s shoulder blades and really begins to pull his arms back.

“The fuck are you doing?” Jameson cries. “Arms don’t bend that way, I’m not a contortionist.

I watch on as they go through the moves and then Jarden instructs him to roll over onto his back. He picks up Jameson’s feet and brings them up over his shoulders until his toes touch the ground.

“Ahhh,” Jameson cries. “Are you trying to break me in fucking half?”

I do burst out laughing this time, I wish I had my phone so I could take a photo.

As they go through the moves, Jameson fights Jarden at every turn.

Until eventually it becomes too painful to watch, I’m taking a shower.

Jameson

Day three in hell.

I pace back and forth, unable to sit still. I’ve had healing sessions, I’ve had acupuncture, massages every day. Attempted yoga, had the shit stretched out of me every morning at the crack of dawn, I’ve had meditation…well, I judged the idiots who meditated. Not a drop of alcohol and I have a splitting fucking headache from caffeine and protein withdrawal.

You name it, I’ve done it.

And how do I feel?

Anxious, irritable, perspiring like a pig, and fuck this.

I’m a million times more wound up here than I ever have been at home.

I just need to leave.

“Jay, you’ve got another healing session,” Emily reminds me.

“I’m not going.” I shake my head, defeated. “I can’t do this, Em.”

“I know this is hard.”

“I just…I need to leave, babe. I’ve never felt so unhinged.”

Her eyes search mine as she cups my face in her hand. “I’m really enjoying it.”

“You stay.” I pull her into a hug. “I just can’t…. I’m leaving. I’ll wait for you in another hotel.”

“You’re detoxing.” A voice sounds from behind us.

We turn to see Master Chakrii.

“Your mind doesn’t know what to do,” he says calmly.

Jameson frowns.

“Coming off adrenaline is like coming off heroin. You are effectively a drug addict whose body is addicted to stress. As your mind declutters, your body goes into a panic, unsure of what to do.”

My jaw clenches as I stare at the master.

“You’re nearly through the worst of it, don’t give up now, you’ve come so far.”

“This isn’t working,” I reply softly.

I’ve never felt so defeated.

“It is, I promise you. Your body is purging pent-up stress. If you leave before you have gone through the process you will be right back where you left off.”

“How long do you think it will it take?” Emily asks.

“Another week.”

“A week?” I gasp. “I’ll be dead in another week here.”

Chakrii puts his hand on my shoulder. “Trust me, my friend. Trust the process. You need to stop fighting against it.”

Unexpected emotion fills my every cell and I get a lump in my throat; I know I need to get a handle on the way I live.

Emily deserves more than having a workaholic stressed-out husband, and I would give anything to be that for her…but this…my eyes flick between the two of them.

“Jay,” Emily says softly as she takes my hands in hers. “You can do this, baby, I know you can. We can do it together.”

I close my eyes; the truth is, I really don’t think I can.

I’m letting her down.

“I don’t know how to stop my mind,” I whisper.

“Then you learn,” Chakrii says. “You take it minute by minute, hour by hour.”

I stare at him as I listen.

“And then one day, something will let go.”

My sanity?

“Like what?” I ask.

“The pressure of expectation,” Chakrii replies.

I frown, it’s like he’s reading my mind.

“You are not the first corporate highflier we have had here; you will not be the last. The ones that leave early….” His voice trails off.

“What?” Emily asks. “What happens to the ones that leave early?”

“Some return, sometimes years later when they realize the truth.”

“What truth?” Emily asks.

“That there is no easy way, you have to push through the barriers that your thoughts have created for you.” He smiles wistfully. “To be able to control your mind is the greatest strength that one can have.”

Isn’t that the truth.

“So you need to make a decision, Jameson, right now. Are you going

to go through life wondering what could have been?”

Emily takes my hand in hers and kisses my fingertips.

“Or are you going to tough it out and stay?” He pauses as if choosing his words wisely. “Twenty-one days could change the whole trajectory of your life, do you want to feel free?”

I feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders…because it is. It feels like it always has been. My life is a gift, one that I want more than anything.

Without a word, I walk inside and go into the bathroom and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I take a long hard look at myself and my eyes well with tears because I don’t like what I see.

I know I have to do this.

Emily walks into the bathroom and puts her arms around me from behind and kisses my shoulder. She doesn’t say anything, she just holds me while I have my meltdown.

A knock sounds at the door. “Jameson,” a voice calls.

“Yes?”

“It’s Jarden, I’m here for your stretch class.”

What’s it going to be, sink or swim?

Swim.

“I’ll be right out.”

Emily

I sit on the front porch of our bungalow and read through the notes in my diary, I’ve been keeping a score of what goes down in here and I have to say, it’s been very satisfying to go back and read through it day by day.

We are making progress, and on the days where I felt we have gone backward, I’ve returned to the diary to recap and remind myself of where we were at the beginning.

Day one, a total disaster.

Day two, Jameson paced for hours. I think he’s losing his mind.

Day three, Jameson had a meltdown and thankfully decided to stay.

Day seven, Jameson actually closed his eyes during meditation. I think we could be onto something here.

Day eight, he had a major meltdown, he wanted to leave and find a restaurant because he needed to eat a steak.

Day ten, he stopped pacing and for the first time since I’ve known Jay, he is calm and present.

Day thirteen and fourteen, he slept for two days straight, Master Chakrii says this is a breakthrough and that his body is releasing the last of his stored adrenaline. To be honest it’s kind of scary for me to see him like this, Jameson never sleeps so for him to do it for two full days and nights is unsettling.

Day fifteen, we laughed all day and then made love under the stars on the beach.

Day by day and little by little, I can feel Jameson purging old beliefs, breaking destructive habits. Reacting to the Chinese medicine and discovering a new sense of self.

I begin to write my next entry.

Day eighteen.

I glance up from my diary to see my man sitting up on the cliff on the

rock ledge, staring out to sea.

Cross-legged and pensive, he’s been up there for hours, alone and just being in the moment with nature.

He’s not complaining or whining or being a sarcastic asshole to anyone.

I smile softly, I’ve never loved him more.

Day twenty-one.

My back arching off the bed wakes me from a deep sleep and instantly I know where I am.

In bed, on my back with my legs over my Jameson’s shoulders, his fingers spreading me wide, his tongue licking me deep, he’s sucking and nibbling and my back arches again, oh fuck, I’m about to come.

How long has he been doing this?

I moan as my fingers twist in his hair. “Oh god,” I whimper as I spread my legs wider.

He smiles into me. “Good morning, Mrs. Miles.”

“It sure is.”

Seriously, how is this my life?

He licks me deeper and I begin to shudder. “Stop,” he commands as he slides up my body, bringing my legs over his shoulders.

We fall silent as we stare at each other, the air buzzing with deep arousal.

When he has me in this position I am completely at his mercy, my body is his for the taking. To fuck and use however he wants.

He knows it and he loves it.

And so do I.

His eyes are dark and dangerous and I feel the tip of his thick cock slide through my swollen lips. He finds the sweet spot and pushes in hard, my body fluttering around his as it tries to deal with his size.

His eyes roll back in his head and then he slowly slides out and then pushes in hard, the bed hits the wall as he lets me have it with both barrels.

Deep punishing hits, his thick cock taking exactly what it needs from my body.

And in return, mine accepting all of his. Sucking him in as if my life depends on it, because at this moment, it does.

He is all that I need.

Everything seems magnified in here, the laughter, the love that we make, the time in each other’s arms. Perhaps it’s because there are no distractions, or maybe because we’ve crossed another emotional bridge. I don’t know what it is, but everything feels like more. The highest of highs, I’m grateful, so grateful.

I cry out as an orgasm tears through me and then he slams in and holds

himself deep.

I feel the telling jerk of his cock as it empties deep inside of me and we pant as we try to catch our breath.

He smiles down at me. “Let’s go home.”

Jameson

“Renata, where are we on the Robinson deal?” I ask.

“I’m waiting for them to get back to me with the contract,” she replies across the board table.

“Why are you waiting? Chase it up.”

“Yes sir.” She scribbles in her diary and a knock sounds at the door.

“Yes,” I call.

Sammia sticks her head around the door. “Jameson, can I see you for a moment, please?”

“I’m in a meeting, Sammia, you can see that.”

“It’s urgent, sir.”

Fuck’s sake. “Excuse me.” I stand and walk out of the room. “What is it?”

“You have a visitor in your office.”

“Who?”

“Emily, she says that it’s extremely urgent.”

What’s wrong?

I march to my office and barge open the door, Emily is sitting at my desk. “What’s wrong?” I splutter.

She bounces out of the chair and kisses me softly as she wraps her arms around me. “Nothing, everything is right.”

I peel her arms off from around me. “I am in a board meeting, Emily,” I whisper. “What are you doing?”

“I just thought you’d like to know the news.”

“Know what?”

She digs around in her bag and pulls something out and passes it over to me.

“What’s this?”

“A pregnancy test. One line for negative, two lines for positive.”

Two lines.

I frown as I stare at it in my hands.

My eyes rise to meet hers. “But we didn’t start trying yet.”

She smiles softly. “Maybe we did.”

With my heart in my throat, I stare at my beautiful wife.

What?

“You’re going to be a daddy, Jay.” She smiles up at me.

What?

“Are you sure?”

She shrugs and then laughs. “I did two tests.”

I take her into my arms and hold her tight, so tight I nearly break her.

“You’re squashing me.” She laughs against my shoulder. “Ouch.”

“Oh my god.” I put my hand on her stomach. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I’ve never done this before, I think so.”

I take her face into my hands and I kiss her. This woman.

This beautiful woman, she came into my life and loved me and saved me from myself.

And now this….

Emotion overwhelms me and I get a lump in my throat as I stare down at her.

I can’t believe it, there are no words to describe what I’m feeling.

So much love.

“Are you still going to love me when I get fat?” She smiles up at me.

I chuckle and take her into my arms and walk her backward toward my desk. “Try and stop me.”

Emily

A text bounces into my phone:

I’m here

I go to the window and look down to the street and see Scott standing to the side of the front doors of the building, the blacked-out SUV Audi parked in the loading zone.

My escort home is here.

True to Jameson Miles’ overprotective style I have been wrapped in cotton wool.

In my first trimester I suffered greatly from morning sickness and one day when I was looking especially green, a photographer was hassling me and I slipped on the pavement and nearly fell over.

Jameson went ballistic, and since that day I have had a personal bodyguard with me whenever we are in New York, which is Monday to Friday.

I hated it at first, and we fought about it often. But now as I’m at the end of my second trimester, I do have to admit I feel safer. Not from murdering killers or anything dramatic like that, the paparazzi are the only ones I need protecting from.

I walk back to my desk and close down my computer and look around my office.

I only have six weeks left at work and I’m a little sad, I’m going to miss my office, I really love my job and the independence it’s given me.

But we’ve decided that we are moving to our house in the country, Arndell, full time once the baby is born, Jameson will work from home two days a week and commute the other three.

We really want the baby to grow up barefoot, climbing trees and playing in the mud.

Hidden away in our own little cocoon of love.

We’ve had some renovations done on the house in preparation for being there full-time, new bathrooms and kitchen, new carpet, and furnishings.

Every time we go there we take a little bit more of our personal belongings.

The plan is to have both the country house and the penthouse in New York

fully equipped so that we can just move between the two without the need to pack bags.

We’re so excited to get there, once the baby is born Jameson has three weeks off for us to settle in as a family.

I can’t wait.

We would move beforehand but my doctor and the hospital are in New York and Jameson couldn’t handle the stress of being two hours away if I go into early labor.

My phone beeps another text.

Are you okay?

Jeez, I text back.

Coming now.

I grab my bag and make my way downstairs; Scott is standing by the double glass doors as he waits for me. “Good afternoon, Emily.”

“Hi, Scott.” I smile as he walks me to the car. “How was your day?” I ask him.

“Great, and yours?” He opens the car door and I glance in to see Jameson sitting in the back seat, navy suit, square jaw and the best come fuck-me-look of all time.

“It just got a lot better.” I smile as I climb in.

“Mrs. Miles.” Jameson smiles, he takes my face in his hands and kisses me softly.

“This is a nice surprise.”

“I thought I’d take you out to dinner.” He kisses me again. “Then you can eat me for dessert.”

I laugh out loud. “You’re a bona fide sex maniac.”

He takes my hand in his and gives me a playful wink.

I’m not even joking, I thought once my pregnancy body set in he would calm down.

He is more obsessed with me now than ever.

We arrive at the restaurant and Scott pulls the car over and gets out and opens the car door, Jameson climbs out first and then helps me out.

“There he is,” we hear as cameras click.

Jameson puts his head down and with my hand in a viselike grip we walk

through the circus of paparazzi.

“Back off,” I hear Scott demand from behind us. “Move out of the way.”

We walk into the restaurant and instantly return to earth. It’s calm and serene and piano music is playing in the background. It’s like another world in here, away from the crazy.

“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Miles.” The waiter smiles. “I have your favorite table waiting, sir.”

“Thank you,” Jameson replies, as we walk through to our table, I see people turning their heads to look our way and I drop my head and smile at the floor, I should be used to it by now, but I’m not, I don’t think I ever will be.

Nothing has changed in New York.

Jameson Miles attracts attention wherever he goes.

He always will.

I wake to the feeling of period pain and I frown and glance at the clock on my bedside table: 2.55 a.m.

What’s happening?

Another pang of ache rolls through me and I wince.

Oww…. Okay, that’s…uncomfortable.

I glance over to Jay as he sleeps beside me and I quietly get up and walk downstairs and go to the bathroom. I have this heavy feeling in my stomach and down below, but I’m not due for another ten days.

It must be Braxton-Hicks. Please don’t be in labor, I have shit I need to get done before you arrive, bubba.

I rub my big tummy, it’s a weird feeling, not a pain, more of an ache and now I have heartburn, fuck’s sake.

I feel like shit.

Maybe it was the Indian food we had for dinner.

I sit on the toilet for a while, I feel hot and clammy and ugh, don’t tell me I have a tummy bug.

I eventually get into the shower and lean up against the wall, the hot water feels nice on my skin. I close my eyes; I wish I could sleep standing, I’m so, so, tired.

“Emily?” I hear Jameson’s panicked voice as he comes flying into the bathroom, his eyes are wide. “What’s happening?”

“I’m fine, heartburn.” I wondered how long it would be until he woke up and came looking for me.

He looks down at the floor of the shower. “It doesn’t look like heartburn.”

Huh?

I glance down to see that the water running down the drain is a pretty shade of pink.

“Oh crap.”

“What do you mean oh crap?”

“My waters have broken.”

“Oh…fucking hell…. Crap,” he cries. “It’s too early.”

“It’s fine, we’re ready.”

“I’m glad you are,” he snaps, all flustered. “I am not fucking ready.” He runs from the bathroom and I roll my eyes, of course he is going to be all Jameson Miles dramatic-like.

The hot water feels so nice on my skin and I close my eyes as I continue to lean against the wall.

“Yes.” I hear Jameson’s voice and he walks into the bathroom on his phone. “She’s in the shower.” He listens again. “Okay.” He puts the phone down. “How long has this been going on?”

“What do you mean?”

He holds his hand out to the floor. “That,” he stammers.

“Well, you just discovered it, so not long.”

“Fucking hell,” he mutters to himself. “Not long.” He listens again. “Are you having contractions?” he asks me.

“Just an ache.”

“Just an ache.” He frowns and begins to pace. “Alright then.” He listens again. “Well it’s hard to tell, she’s pretty tough. Not much fazes her.”

His eyes flick up to me and I smile, if only he could see himself, stark naked and pacing in the bathroom while on the phone.

“Okay, see you soon.” He hangs up. “We need to go to the hospital.”

“Alright.” I close my eyes as I lean up against the wall.

“Don’t go to sleep. Emily. Now.”

“Alright,” I snap, half annoyed. “I’m fine, Jameson.”

“I am not. ” He steps into the shower and turns it off. “Get out. Get out right this minute.”

“Fuck’s sake.”

“Do not fuck’s sake me,” he splutters as he holds a towel up for me. “We need to go and we need to go now. This is an emergency.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the one keeping me calm?” I snap as I take the towel from him.

His face falls as he realizes what he’s doing. “Yes, yes I am. True.” He exhales deeply as he remembers what to do. “This is fine, it’s all fine and you don’t need to worry because it’s totally fine,” he blurts out in a rush as he begins to pace again. “It’s all going to be fine, Em. Perfectly fine.”

I giggle. Idiot.

“So what you’re saying is that it’s all fine?” I tease.

He closes his eyes as he fights the urge to give me a sarcastic reply.

“That’s right, sweetheart.” He smiles as he tries his best to act cool.

“We’re going to get in the car and we’re going to take a little trip to the hospital so that we can meet our baby,” he says in the sweetest fakest voice I’ve ever heard.

I roll my eyes. “Don’t think you are talking to me in that voice through labor, I’m going to vomit in my own mouth.”

“What voice?”

“That sweet pathetic voice. Just be normal and say whatever it is that you want to say.”

“Okay, fine.” He exhales as if relieved. “Get in the fucking car, Emily, because I’m freaking the fuck out.”

I burst out laughing.

“Is that better?” He smirks.

“Much better.” I kiss his lips and he wraps his arms around me. “Can you believe this is happening?”

“Not really.” He puts his two hands over my stomach and looks down at them. “This baby is going to be just like you.” He smiles against my lips. “I can feel it.”

“Today.” Excitement fills me, “Oh my god, Jay, we get to meet our baby today.”

He kisses me softly, his lips lingering over mine, and I wish we had all day to kiss, to take the time to enjoy the last hours of it being just us.

Our last alone time.

“We have to go,” he tells me. “I’ll grab the bag and you get dressed.”

“Okay.”

I walk into our bedroom and pull out a drawer, my stomach clenches hard and I stop on the spot. “Ouch….” The tightening hardens and hardens and keeps clenching until it really hurts, oh hell, this isn’t…great.

“Is this a contraction?” My eyes widen in horror. “Don’t tell me that’s what it feels like.”

“Tell you what?” Jameson replies as he walks into the room.

“I think I just had a contraction.”

What did it feel like?”

“Pretty….” I pause as I search for the right word. “Hectic.”

“Hectic?” He twists his lips. “All the more reason to hurry.”

“Okay.” I bend down to put my underpants on and another one hits, this time it’s stronger and it doubles me over in pain. “Oh…jeez.”

“What’s happening?” His eyes widen. “What the fuck is happening right now?”

“A contraction.”

“Another one?”

I nod.

“What do you mean, that’s too close together.”

My breathing becomes labored as I try to deal with it.

Fuck, this is full on.

“Get in the fucking car. Get in the fucking car. Right now!” He bends and holds my underpants open so that I can step into them, he pulls them up at speed and then pulls my dress on over my head.

“I need a bra.”

“Why? Trust me, nobody is going to be looking at your tits.”

I get the giggles.

“Do not start with your giggling now, woman.”

I put my shoes on and he grabs my hospital bag and we head out the door, the biggest thing that Jameson has wanted through my pregnancy is to drive me to the hospital himself. For some reason, it’s really important to him. I just hope this all goes to plan.

We get to the elevator and my stomach hardens again; I stop and screw my face up.

Shit.

“Breathe,” he says.

I pant. “Did you learn how to say that in prenatal classes?”

“Yes. I did actually, smart-ass.”

I smile up at him.

“Even in labor.” He rolls his eyes. “Un-fucking-believable.”

We get in the elevator and ride to the basement parking lot, he takes my hand in his and marches us across to the car, another contraction hits and it knocks the wind out of me. “Ahh,” I moan as I stop on the spot, my breathing is labored and I’m beginning to perspire.

“Babe, you’re scaring me. Should I call an ambulance?” He waits patiently as I have my moment. “This seems to be progressing very fast.”

“No, it’s fine. Let’s go.”

“Maybe I should take a look,” he says as we get to the car, he opens the door for me.

“At what?” I frown as I climb in.

“To see if I can see the head.”

“You fucking idiot, you will not be able to see the head,” I snap, infuriated. Another contraction hits and it’s the hardest yet, shattering pain sears through me. “Ahhh.” I cry as I grip the dashboard.

Jameson’s eyes widen and he takes off with speed, he floors it out of the parking lot so fast that the car flies through the air. “Cross your legs,” he snaps, his eyes are darting between me and the road.

“I have a watermelon trying to smash its way out, crossing my legs is not going to fucking stop it.”

“Jesus.” Jameson is perspiring as we fly through the streets of New York.

I get another contraction and I cry out in pain. “Ahhh.”

“Ahhhhhh,” he cries too as he reaches over and tries to put his hand up my dress. “What are you doing?” I yell.

“Just putting my hand there to stop it coming out.”

I swat him away. “You are the dumbest smart man I know,” I cry.

A few contractions and in the quickest time known to man we make it to the hospital and Jameson parks out the front in the no-standing area.

“You can’t park here,” I pant.

“I dare someone to try and stop me.” He runs around and opens the door and helps me out. We make our way up to the maternity ward, and although we have been here before on our tour, it all seems so much more real now.

Jameson makes his way to the nursing station. “Hello, I called before. Emily has gone into labor.”

“Mr. Miles, yes.” The nurse smiles. “This way.”

We get to the room and the kind nurse hooks me up to a monitor and

makes me comfortable. She seems so relaxed, just the opposite to how I’m currently feeling.

I wanted so badly to feel in control and calm, I was sure I was going to be a pro at this labor thing, so far I feel like a feral animal who is about to go through an exorcism.

The nurse smiles. “I’ll leave you alone for a little while, I’ll be back in a moment to check your reading.”

“Thanks.”

Bleep.

Bleep.

Bleep.

Bleep.

Jameson smiles as he stares at the baby’s heartbeat monitor, “Look how strong that heartbeat is, Em.” He sits on the side of the bed and smiles down at me; his demeanor has changed and he pushes the hair back from my forehead. “It’s going to be fine.”

Butterflies swirl in my stomach. “How do you know?”

“Because this baby has you as a mom.”

My eyes well with tears.

“And its father loves its mother so, so much.” He kisses my forehead.

Another contraction racks through my body and I begin to cry as fear fills me. “Jay, I don’t think I can do this,” I whisper in a panic. “I changed my mind; I changed my mind now.”

He holds my hand through it, finally it ends and I slump back into the mattress.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.”

“Is it?” I sob. “I knew it was going to be bad, I thought I had it in the bag but nothing can prepare you for this. It’s worse than I thought, Jay. Much worse.”

“You’re the strongest person I know, Em.”

“I don’t feel very strong right now.”

“You’ve got this babe; I know you do.” He holds my face in his hands and kisses me softly. “Bring our baby to life.”

My eyes search his.

“If I could do this for you, I would,” he whispers. “You know that I would.”

And that right there, those words put a fire in my belly.

He would do anything for me.

It’s me, it’s all me, I’m the only one who can do this for us. There is no shortcut.

I want to meet our baby.

I nod, filled with renewed determination.

“Let’s do this.”

Jameson

Five and a half hours later, with my heart in my throat, I watch on as Emily, the love of my life, moves heaven and earth.

This is without a doubt the most incredible thing I have ever borne witness to.

How women do this every day blows my mind, there are no words to describe the awe I have for the female race in this moment.

“Last push, Emily.”

The midwife smiles.

Em bears down and pushes hard and the baby slides out, the nurse picks it up and turns it over. “It’s a boy.”

“Waaaaaa!”

“A boy?” Emily laughs in relief.

The room blurs as I kiss my beautiful wife. “I’m so proud of you.” I hold her tight. “I love you so much, you did it, sweetheart, you did it.” I smile through tears. “Look at him.”

“I love you too.”

“Waaaaaa!” The baby screams harder. “Waaaaaa!”

I laugh as I wipe the tears that are running down my face.

Hands down the best day of my life.

They put the baby up onto her chest and we both stare at him in awe.

Chubby and covered in a white film, the cutest baby I ever saw.

So surreal.

“James.” Emily smiles down at her son. “You look like a James.”

“You sure you want two of us?” I smile.

“Positive.”

I hug Emily, close my eyes, and say a little prayer.

Thank you.

Emily

Seven days and seven nights is a long time to go without sleep. The sound of ten trumpets sounds through our bedroom, and it’s coming from the cradle at the end of our bed.

“Waaaaaa! Waaaaaa! Waaaaaa!”

It seems James has a penchant for screaming. It’s his favorite thing, he does it all day, he does it all night.

“Fuck me,” Jameson whispers. “What the hell is wrong with this baby?”

I smile up at the ceiling in the dark. “Just lie there quietly and he might go back to sleep.”

“Waaaaaa! Waaaaaa! Waaaaaa!”

“He’s not going back to sleep.”

I close my eyes, I’m honestly so exhausted that I can’t deal with this.

“What do I do?” Jameson whispers.

“He’s not hungry, check his nappy and, I don’t know, take him for a walk or something, I need to sleep, Jay. I have to get up and feed him in two hours, I’m delirious. I can’t deal with one more night of this.”

“You think I can?”

Jameson gets up and picks up the baby and looks down at him,

“Waaaaaa! Waaaaaa! Waaaaaa!”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Waaaaaa! Waaaaaa! Waaaaaa!”

“You are supposed to be chill like your mother, not psychopathic like me.”

“Waaaaaa! Waaaaaa! Waaaaaa!”

I smile with my eyes closed as I listen to them.

“You don’t need to cry like that, nobody is murdering you…yet.”

I smile into my pillow.

“He said he wants scotch in his bottle.”

“He did not say that.”

“Oh that’s right, it was me, I want to drink scotch from the fucking bottle.”

I giggle.

“Waaaaaa! Waaaaaa! Waaaaaa!”

“You’re killing me, kid.” He changes his nappy and swaddles him. “Let’s

go scream in the living room so Mom can sleep.”

“Waaaaaa! Waaaaaa! Waaaaaa!”

“You’re going in time-out, you naughty baby. Quit it.”

I smile as I begin to drift back to sleep.

“Waaaaaa! Waaaaaa! Waaaaaa!” James’ screams get softer as Jay takes him out of the bedroom.

I wake with a start; my breasts are pumping as I get a letdown.

“Shit, what time is it?” I sit up and rush out into the living room in a panic, and then smile when I see it.

Jameson is flat on his back on the couch with his son swaddled tightly and sleeping on his chest.

Not the first week I imagined having with our baby, there’s been tears and tantrums, breastfeeding issues and crying, so much crying, but it’s been precious just the same.

Jameson said something tonight that struck home with me.

This is Jameson Miles’ son, he has his nature, of course he’s going to be difficult.

And somehow, that makes me love my baby all the more, suddenly I know it’s all going to be okay.

If there’s anyone that can handle a strong-willed Miles man.

It’s me.

I sit at the kitchen counter and read my magazine.

The kids are playing in the back garden, James is five, Imogen is four, Alexander is two, and I’m pregnant again.

We’re running a damn breeding program over here.

To be fair, the last two pregnancies have been surprises, happy surprises, but surprises just the same.

We live in the country full-time now; the kids are barefoot and fancy free.

Living the life that we always wanted for them.

Simple and full of love.

We will move back to New York full time once the kids are high school age.

The sound of the chopper comes over the mountain and the kids all squeal with excitement and run to the back fence to watch it land.

The chopper lands, the door opens and Jameson steps out. Square jaw, dark hair and the best fitted navy suit in all of the land. Still got it, and then some.

I smirk, my husband is hot.

The kids all rush him and run around his feet, he picks up Alexander and puts him on his hip as they walk back to the house.

Daddy’s home.