Stay Away 3 (sequel to Stay Away 2) | #Wattys2015

Chapter 17

Melissa's POV:

I continue to cut strawberries in half and throw them into a bowl, still debating what I should eat them with.

My sleep was horrible. Cramps were kicking my ass, my muscles ached.

It was the worst.

I hear the front door open and close, but I ignore my habit to see who it is since I already know.

"Baby girl?"

"I'm in the kitchen," I announce, my attention still to the fruit.

I feel strong arms snake around my waist, followed by Justin's head burying into my neck.

I look down and notice a bouquet of roses in one of his hands, causing me to smile a little.

He places a soft peck on my neck before resting his chin on my shoulder, keeping my arms around me.

"Morning princess. Feeling any better?"

I sigh.

"Not really. These cramps are killing me and my inner thighs are hurting like crazy."

"Aww princess," he coos, his grip slightly tightening.

"Well, these are for you princess," he tells me, referring to the flowers.

I turn my head and pecks his cheek, seeing his cheeks grow fat as a smile spreads on his face.

"Thank you Justin."

I continue my routine with the strawberries, feeling one of his hands soothingly rub my abdomen.

"Strawberries, eh?"

"Mhmm."

"Good thing I bought Nutella. One of your favorites, am I correct baby girl?"

I giggle at him.

"Correct," I answer.

"What else did you buy?"

"Well, if you must know princess, I bought stuff to make dinner tonight. I thought it would be fun for us."

I snicker right after he's finished, making him raise his eyebrow.

"What?"

"You're actually cooking?," I laugh.

"What baby? You don't believe in me?"

I lean up and peck his soft lips.

"This is going to be interesting."

* Later *

I adore Bella's adorable laugh as I cover my eyes again with both my hands.

"Peek a boo!," I cheer once more, her laugh sounding through the whole house.

After a few more minutes of our intense game of Peek a boo, I pick her up and sit her on my lap, holding her close to my chest.

I see her yawn and her eyes begin to slowly shut, but her eyes shoot open again.

"Bella, don't fight sleep," I whisper.

She continues to fight and I look over at the time, seeing it's 9:30 p.m.

It's around the time she goes to sleep.

I get up and carry her to her nursery before I start rocking her to sleep.

I begin to sing her a lullaby:

Rock-a-bye baby, in the treetop
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall
And down will come baby, cradle and all