Chapter 57
LILA
Why am I nervous? It’s only Victor!
I ran a hand down the grey maxi dress that clung to my bump, showing it off from all sides.
I’d added a long charcoal grey cardigan that reached my ankles, and I’d teased my hair into big curls that had softened throughout the day.
I looked like I was ready for a night on the sofa, but it was more important I felt comfortable at this stage of pregnancy.
Twenty-eight weeks!
I couldn’t believe our baby girl would be here in about three months. That’s twelve weeks! I was nervous, of course, but first, I had a date with her daddy.
I couldn't help but smile at the thought of dating Victor again, but the therapist had insisted we start from scratch, and so here we were, building our relationship back up from the very bottom brick.
Starting with a date.
Victor wouldn’t tell me where we were going; all I knew was to be ready by seven. I checked my watch—seven on the dot. I took a deep breath and stared at myself in the mirror.
Here we go.
I walked downstairs, being careful not to trip on my dress, and nearly fell over when I saw Victor standing by the door with a bouquet of cream and pink roses. He wore a black shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, of course, and my heart skipped a beat when he smiled at me.
“Wow, Lila, you look incredible.”
“Thank you. These are beautiful.” I took the roses from him and inhaled their sweet, fresh scent.
“They’re for both of you. The pink ones are for her.” Victor took them from me and placed them into a waiting vase filled with water, then opened the front door.
Oh my god. I didn’t think for one second Victor being a daddy would affect me like this. But damn, buying our unborn daughter pink roses? That did something to me.
“After you.”
My cheeks flushed as his eyes skimmed me, and his cologne nearly melted my panties off. Outside there was a cab waiting for us, because of course, he still couldn’t drive. Once I was safely inside, Victor sat beside me as it whisked us away.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I asked, sneaking a look at my ex-husband. His side profile was exquisite, and as he stared out of the window before answering me, I felt butterflies that weren’t anything to do with the baby.
Or Zucchini, as Victor fondly called her.
“I thought we’d try somewhere new, that’s all,” Victor said, reaching out to brush my fingers with his. Electricity danced on my skin from his touch, and I looked away. “Create new memories.”
“Sounds good,” I murmured, as his fingers played with mine. My heart was more excited than any other part of my body currently and kept leaping into my chest.
The cab pulled up outside a new restaurant I’d not even noticed being built on the outskirts of town. It was all floor-to-ceiling glass, and had a rotating door that seemed to never stop moving.
“It’s busy,” I commented when Victor opened the car door for me.
He took my hand and helped me up, glancing at the restaurant with a lazy smile that did things to me.
“Yeah, it’s fairly new so people are trying it out.”
He took my hand, and I fucking loved it, because I was a die-hard romantic—and Victor knew it.
Hand holding on a first date is okay, right?!
The lady who greeted us let her gaze linger a second too long on Victor, but then her eyes fell on my belly, and she gave me a crisp congratulations.
Yeah, back off, bitch.
“Reservation for Rossi,” Victor said, completely oblivious to her checking him out.
“Right this way, sir,” she replied, plastering a fake smile on her face.
We followed her to a table for two by the window, and Victor pulled my seat out so I could sit down first.
“Victor, you don’t have to go all out,” I whispered as he sat in front of me, chuckling.
“Yes, I do.” His gaze held mine, and I bit my lip. “Please, darling, refrain from biting that lip. You know what it does to me.”
I pressed my lips together to hide my smile, and began browsing the drinks menu, trying to avoid how his words made me feel.
Still.
“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” Victor sipped his table water and then gazed at me over steepled fingers.
I flickered a glance his way. “You did. You look rather dashing yourself. Is that a new shirt?”
Victor nodded. “Hey, it’s not every day you take your stunning wife on a first date.”
“Ex,” I corrected him softly, and he held up his hands.
“Sorry.”
I ordered a non-alcoholic cocktail and sat back enjoying the soft jazz music playing in the background.
Victor gazed at me. “Have you given your job any more thought?”
I sipped my water and sighed. “I don’t want to work at a store for the rest of my life. I just don’t know where my interests lie. I looked at interior design courses, but I’m just so tired right now.”
Victor’s eyebrows rose with interest. “You were so good at decorating our home. Everyone always said so.”
“Yeah, but I don’t know; I just don’t have the energy.”
“Of course not, you won’t yet. Maybe after the baby is born, you can look into it? You know I’ll support you in any way that I can, plus Mom and Vanessa are already fighting over who’s looking after Zucchini.”
I grinned. “You can’t keep calling her that.”
“Why? It’s cute. Most people say bean or something, why not Zucchini?” he remarked, his eyes brimming with mirth.
“She needs a real name.”
“Something beginning with Z?” Victor asked hopefully, and I laughed.
“What is your obsession with that letter?!”
The waiter came over and took our orders, and we continued chatting about baby names. I laughed until my stomach hurt. This was the Victor I remembered, but an even better version.
The food was out of this world, and once I’d eaten my weight in steak, I honestly felt like I was going to pop.
“Come on, you’ve got to have dessert. Zucchini—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” I warned him as he grinned. We gazed at each other for a minute, but I looked away, pretending to look at the dessert menu.
“Victor, I’ve already gained so much weight, if I have dessert, I’m telling you, I will explode. There’ll be a baby here in ten minutes,” I joked.
“Then have a dessert! I want to meet our girl!” Victor demanded, reaching over the table to take my hand. “You are pregnant and beautiful. I’ve never seen a more beautiful zucchini-holder in my life.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop smiling.
Because Victor was the man, I was, and always would be, in love with.
Our second date was at the movies, and all they had showing was a horror. I clung to Victor throughout, hiding during the slasher scenes.
“Jesus,” he muttered when I squeezed his hand so hard it cracked.
“You know horror scares me!” I hissed, squinting so I didn’t have to look at the screen.
“I know, but this was all they had on, or a musical, and you—”
“I hate musicals. I know,” I muttered.
I rested my head on his shoulder and tried to avoid the screen, my eyelids already drooping.
“Hey,” Victor said, kissing my head. “Shall we go home?”
I yawned and tried to say no, but Victor just laughed.
“Let’s go home, baby.”
On the third date, he suggested a name during a pottery class.
“Zara,” he leaned over and whispered to me, with clay all over his fingers and face.
I looked up at him, and he grinned.
“Zara?” I blinked in confusion.
“For Zucchini. I like the name Zara.”
I smiled. “I like that,” I said, before realising the clay had started to warp. “Dammit!”
“Here, look.” Victor moved and sat behind me, his thighs pressing on mine as his hands slid around my waist. “Relax your hands.”
His chest brushed my back as he covered my hands with his. Together, we steadied the spinning clay, his thumbs pressing slightly on the wobbling wall, his hands steading the outside, coaxing the lopsided wall into shape.
“You’re applying too much pressure,” Victor murmured in my ear, and shivers danced down my spine. “Let the wheel do the work.”
Slowly, the clay stopped buckling and started to resemble something graceful.
“Thank you. Who knew you were so good with your hands?”
His response set fire to my insides. “You did.”
The fourth date was at home, and honestly, I knew exactly how it was going to end.
I was thirty-one weeks pregnant and felt every minute of it. I didn’t feel like going out, but I was craving Indian food. Victor offered to make it, but I practically growled when he suggested it. I wanted traditional Indian food with all the trimmings, and nothing but the best would do.
So, I sat with my huge bump in between my legs, using my naan bread to clean the inside of the Jalfrezi container.
“Oh, my god,” I said when I was finished, pushing it away from me. “That was better than sex.”
Victor scooped up the cartons and frowned. “Better than sex? Is that a challenge, Miss. Morrison?”
Oh, fuck me. Him calling me that took me way back to when we were first dating, and the fact he was using it now told me how seriously he was taking all of this. It was also hot as fuck.
“No,” I said, staring up at him. “Well, maybe.”
He tossed the containers onto the table and sank between my legs, his lips close to mine.
“I’m gonna need to know if it is a challenge, because I’m damn sure any sex we’ve ever had has been better than food.”
I exhaled and reached for my soda bottle, lifting it to my lips before sucking on it slowly, maintaining eye contact the whole time. He grew hard almost instantly against me.
“Lila…”
“Hmm?” I placed the soda bottle back on the side. “What, Victor?”
“You’re all flushed and sexy; saying my name like that will get you into all kinds of trouble.”
I bit my lip. “What kind of trouble?”
He crushed his mouth against mine, and it was like a firework escaping into the sky, all pent-up tension and energy having to release somewhere.
Our first kiss in so long. I wish I could say it was romantic, but it really wasn’t.
I wanted him inside me, he wanted to be inside me, and it was as primal and animalistic as that.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he groaned as I dragged his shirt off him.
“Victor, you won’t; I’ll do it.”
Something burned in his gaze as I stripped off, kicking my clothes aside.
“Fuck, Lila, look at you,” he breathed. I crawled towards him, and his pupils blew wide, his gaze tracking every movement like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
He shoved his pants down, his dick as hard as rock.
My mouth actually watered as I stroked the girth, maintaining eye contact with him the whole time.
“Baby,” he moaned, reaching down to cup my aching, swollen breasts gently. He helped me straddle him, and his dick slid against my slickness. “You’re so wet…”
“I know,” I whispered, reaching behind me to align his dick with my entrance.
“I need this so bad, baby.”
“I need it too.”
He softly licked my nipple as I shivered, his dick stretching me as I lowered myself onto him.
“Fuck!” he hissed, his hands moving to my hips to help steady me. “Are you alright?”
“I’m perfect,” I whispered, rocking my hips gently as I pushed him down so he was lying flat. My belly rested on his, and his hands were palm side up, offering me even more support.
The desire in his eyes burned, and I let out a soft moan as I slid up and down his dick so achingly slowly, he cursed.
“This is where you belong, Victor,” I whispered, and he nodded, his fingers lacing with mine as he helped me move up and down faster.
“This is where I fucking belong, Lila.”
I moaned again and threw my head back as he released one hand to play with my clit.
“You are mine, Lila. All. Fucking. Mine.”
Something about the way he said that, lifting his hips to thrust into me along with his fingers playing with my clit set me off, my orgasm ruining me as I struggled to breathe.
“Yes baby, come on me. Come all over my dick, own me.”
God, he had such a filthy mouth. I fucking loved it, and I refused to let any memories taint it. This was a new us. A new beginning.
“I’m coming,” I panted, and he groaned, circling my clit with added pressure.
Victor knew exactly what he was doing, and he was soon dragging another orgasm out of me, fucking me from behind as pillows supported me.
My ears were ringing. I could barely see.
His cum dribbled down my thighs when we were both spent, and he cleaned me up before carrying me, and my whole big ass stomach, to the bedroom.
I gazed at him; my fingers lost in the curls at the nape of his neck.
“I love you,” he whispered, laying me down and covering me with the duvet. “But I’m respecting your space and tiredness and not getting into that bed with you because I promise you, you’ll not get any sleep.”
I laughed, and just as he was about to leave, I grabbed his hand, tugging him closer. “Spoon me. Sleep with me.”
He snorted with laughter but slid into bed beside me, and his warm body spooned perfectly behind mine.
Exactly where it belonged.