Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
“Do you want to kiss me?” she challenged.
“More than I want my next breath.” My gaze dropped to that incredible mouth, and her lips parted.
“Good, because—”
Her phone rang.
You have got to be kidding me.
She shifted, leaning closer.
Another ring.
“Don’t—” I started.
With a groan, she ripped her phone from her back pocket, then sucked in a breath as her eyes narrowed at her screen. She swiped violently, answering the call and lifting the device to her ear.
“—answer it,” I finished with a sigh, letting my head fall back against the chair.
“What the hell do you want, Damian?”
Chapter Twenty
July 1941
North Weald, England
“It’s better, right?” Scarlett asked as she forced the buttons of her uniform jacket through the holes. She wasn’t going to be able to hide it much longer. She wasn’t sure she was even effectively hiding it now.
Jameson leaned against the doorframe to their bedroom, his mouth pressed in a firm line.
“I’ve taken out every spare quarter inch,” Constance murmured, tugging the hem lightly. “Perhaps we could request a larger size?”
“Again?” Scarlett’s eyebrows rose as she took in her reflection in the oval mirror that topped their dresser.
Constance winced. “True. The first time, the supply clerk looked at me as though I’d been stealing her rations.”
The uniform was tight, straining at seams not only over her belly but also her hips and chest.
“I have an idea,” Jameson said from the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Let’s hear it,” Scarlett responded, tugging the sides of her jacket together near the bottom, where there weren’t any buttons.
“You could tell them you’re five months pregnant.”
She met his gaze in the mirror with an arched eyebrow.
He didn’t smile.
Constance looked between the two of them. “Right. I’ll just be…somewhere else!”
Jameson moved so she could slide by, and then he shut the bedroom door, leaning against it. “I’m serious.”
“I know,” she said softly, running her hand over the swell of her belly. “But you know what they’ll do.”
He leaned his head back, thunking it against the door. “Scarlett, honey. I know your work is important, but can you honestly tell me that being on your feet for eight hours straight isn’t killing you? The stress? The schedule?”
He was right. She was already exhausted every morning when she opened her eyes. It didn’t matter how tired she was; there was no time to rest.
But if she came clean—resigned her commission—what would she be then?
“What would I do all day?” Scarlett asked, her fingers tracing the raised lines of the rank on her shoulder. “For the last two years I’ve had direction. I’ve had meaning and purpose. I’ve accomplished things and dedicated myself to the war effort. So what am I supposed to do? I’ve never been a housewife.” She swallowed, hoping to dislodge the knot there. “I’ve certainly never been a mother. I don’t know how to be either of those things.”
Jameson crossed the room, then sat on the edge of the bed, gripped his wife’s hips, and pulled her between his spread knees. “We’ll figure it out together.”
“We,” she said softly, her face falling. “But nothing changes for you,” she whispered. “You still go to work, still fly, still fight in this war.”
“I know this isn’t what you wanted—” His face fell.
“It’s not that,” she promised in a rush, lacing her fingers behind her husband’s neck. “I was just hoping I’d be ready. I hoped the war would be over, that we wouldn’t have to bring a child into a world where I worry if you’ll come home every night or fear a bomb may fall on our house while he slept.” She took his hands and covered the swell of her belly. “I want this baby, Jameson. I want our family. I just wanted to be ready, and I’m not.”
Jameson’s hands stroked over her stomach as they did every day when he said goodbye to their child as he headed off to fly. “I don’t think anyone is ever ready. And no, this world isn’t safe for her. Not yet. But she has two parents fighting like hell to change that. To make it safe for her.” The corner of his lips twitched upward as he looked at his wife. “I’m incredibly proud of you, Scarlett. You’ve done everything you can. You can’t change the regulations. All you can do is bring that fight home. I know you’ll be a wonderful mother. I know my schedule is unpredictable, and that I never know when I’ll actually make it home.” If he makes it home, she thought. “I know the majority of this will fall on you, but I also know you’re up for the challenge.”
She cocked a brow. “There you go again, thinking our baby’s a girl. Your son won’t take kindly to that when he’s born.”
Jameson laughed. “And there you go again, thinking our daughter is a boy.” He leaned forward and placed his mouth just above her belly. “You hear that, sunshine? Mommy thinks you’re a boy.”