Page 55 of A Little Bit More

Oh Baby!

Callum and Isobel’s house,

behind Benson Security’s London office.

This story takes place after Rich, Benson Security 5.

“This is a bad idea.” Callum McKay folded his arms over his gray Henley as he stared down at his very pregnant wife.

“No. It isn’t. This is my last hurrah before life becomes one long, endless cycle of pooping, feeding, and crying.” She fitted the sapphire drop earrings he’d bought her to her lobes.

“What if you go into labor?”

“The baby isn’t due for another week, and she’ll probably come late—Jack and Sophie were both overdue. There’s plenty of time for me to go see a show. And don’t even think about stopping me; I’m a hormonal pregnant woman, and I will hurt you if you get in my way. My sisters have traveled down here for our girls’ night out, and nothing you can do or say is going to change our plans. We’ve had tickets forMamma Miafor months, and we’re going.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to rent the movie and watch it here? You could still get dressed up.”

“Tempting…but no.” She gave him a droll look. “I’m going to the theater, Callum.”

His eyes came to rest on her rounded belly. No. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t let her out of his sight. What if something went wrong? What if she needed him?

“Fine,” he said. “Then I’m going too.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Her green eyes flashed fire at him. “What part of ‘Girls’ Night Out’ are you confused about?”

“The part where it has to be out.”

“Callum, be reasonable. Women don’t stop living their lives just because they’re pregnant. And it’s not like I’m running a marathon; we’re going to sit in a comfy theater and watch a show. The most strenuous thing I’ll do is sing along.”

“Aye, because you and your sisters are known for being quiet and demure. You might think all you’ll do is sing, but Mairi could get a wild hair and decide to dance on the stage, and the rest of you would follow her like a bunch of lemmings.” He shook his head. “I’m coming.” He used the same indomitable tone he reserved for his team of wayward security specialists.

“You don’t have a ticket.” Isobel slipped her feet into high-heeled sandals.

“I don’t need a ticket.” About ten minutes after Isobel had booked their tickets, Callum had called the theater and changed their seats to something more secure. They now had their own private six-person box, which meant there was space enough for him. Of course, he hadn’t told Isobel about his interference. His hope had been that she’d make less of a fuss when she found out at the theater.

Waddling over to him, Isobel almost tripped on the rug. Did she have to wear heels? She couldn’t even see her own feet. Weren’t flat shoes safer? She wasn’t safe to walk around on her own. Somebody had to be there to stop her from falling on her belly.

“What do you mean you don’t need a ticket?” Tossing her wavy dark hair over her shoulder, she glared up at him and then poked him in the chest. “What did you do?”

Aye, there was no way he was answering that.

“You messed with our bookings, didn’t you?” She held up a hand as if to stop him from talking—like he was about to confess. Yeah, right. “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. I just want a nice night out with my sisters. Now, do you think you could stop being an overprotective arse long enough for that to happen?”

It was as though she didn’t know him at all. The words ‘overprotective arse’ were stamped on his DNA.

His thoughts must have been written all over his face, because Isobel let out a sigh. “Whatever. You can come, but you can’t be seen or heard. You’re the invisible bodyguard. Am I clear? Don’t make me set my sisters on you.”

If he’d been a lesser man, he’d have broken out in a sweat at that threat. Even as a former SAS specialist, it still gave him pause. One Sinclair sister was hard enough to corral, but four was damn near impossible. They were the human equivalent of a roomful of kittens playing with grenades.

“Jack,” Callum called over his shoulder, making Isobel roll her eyes at him as she turned to totter back over to the bed for her wrap. His eyes strayed to the curve of her glorious backside encased in the green silk of her dress. The sight made his mouth water.

When he glanced back up, Isobel’s eyes were dancing at him. “If you keep looking at me like that, I may stay home after all.”

Now, why hadn’t he thought of that strategy in the first place?

There were footsteps behind him before his teenage stepson appeared. “What’s up?” Jack asked.

“We need you to babysit your sister. I’m going out with your mother.”