Page 37 of A Little Bit More

As the door shut behind her, Callum chuckled. Now this banana and pickle cheeseburger had onions. He sat up, threw back the covers, and swung what was left of his legs over the side of the bed. An envelope propped against the lamp on his bedside table caught his attention, and his heart swelled as he reached for it.

Sophie.

His four-year-old stepdaughter had managed to sneak into the room while they’d been sleeping. For years, Callum had woken at the slightest noise, but since Isobel and the kids had moved in, he found he’d become attuned to their movements and less likely to let them wake him.

On the front of the envelope was a stick figure drawing that he knew was supposed to be him, Isobel, Sophie’s brother, Jack, Sophie, and the baby inside Isobel—who was waving from her stomach. Smiling, he opened the envelope and slid out the card that someone had obviously helped her make at kindy. There was a paper heart stuck to the front, with lots of random glitter and a few stickers of puppies. Inside were more drawings of her family and the wordsHappy Valentine’s Day, which a teacher had written, but which Sophie had scrawled her name over, adding lots of little x kisses.

“What’s that?” Isobel said as she came to stand beside him.

He handed her the card, and she beamed at it. “Our daughter is so talented.”

And she was right. Sophie was talented. She was also very muchtheirdaughter. It didn’t matter who’d fathered her. That little girl was the daughter of his heart.

“I forgot it was Valentine’s Day,” Isobel said sheepishly. “Sorry.”

Callum wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her between his legs. “I didn’t forget. I have a whole evening planned for you.”

She rested her forearms on his shoulders as her fingers played with his short hair. “Does it involve feeding me?”

Considering she had to be fed every twenty minutes or so—otherwise, she turned into a raving maniac—any plans he made these days involved food. “Aye, it does.”

“Do I have to get dressed up?”

Usually, she loved dressing up, but since she’d outgrown most of her clothes, the shine had gone off it. “I was hoping you’d spend the evening naked.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “So, we aren’t going to a restaurant?”

“No.” He’d booked a room at the Savoy Hotel, with a gourmet meal delivered to their suite. Private, sexy, and a bathroom within easy reach for his very pregnant wife.

“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing?” She sounded a little testy.

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I did.”

“You know I don’t like surprises. They make me anxious.”

“Then I’ll just have to work extra hard to soothe your nerves.”

“Yeah?” Her eyes darkened. “How will you do that?”

“Like this.” He pulled her closer and covered her mouth with his.

Kissing Isobel was always a paradox. Each time felt like the first time, yet it also felt like returning home. Her lips were soft and plump and perfect; her taste, like sunshine after the rain. Their kiss was languorous, sensual, filled with emotion. It was everything that made up life with Isobel.

At last, she retreated and pressed her forehead to his. “I really need my burger.”

“There’s nothing more reassuring for a man’s ego than knowing his woman’s thinking about food while he kisses her,” he teased. “Pass me my legs, and I’ll fetch your burger.”

“But more kisses later,” she pouted.

“Definitely.”

With clear reluctance, she turned from him to pick up the prosthetics he’d left beside his nightstand—and burst out laughing. Okay, this pregnancy was definitely messing with her moods because spontaneous laughter was something new.

Shaking from the giggles, she turned to him, holding up his state-of-the-art legs.

“Seriously?” Callum groaned.

“They’re so pretty,” she said before falling into hysterics again.