Free Love Turns With Twisted Fates 2 by Caleigh Hernandez Page A

delivered. This
here is a cup of vanilla honey chamomile herbal tea. And this here is good ol'
apple juice.”
    Fuck yeah! Apple juice! It's the simple pleasures,
really...but for some reason apple juice is my new liquid gold.
    "Don't just stand there. Give it to me already," I
demand.
    "Oh, I'm gonna give it to you, Mrs. Santo." I
catch the twinkle of mischief in his eye. "But for now," he holds up
the tray to me, "your breakfast."
    While I dig into my breakfast, Diego is going on about the
game and the buzz Mr. Stafford says there is about his debut with the team.
He's so adorable when he's this excited. He mentions something about a party
for one of his teammates in a few weeks, a photo shoot for an ad campaign for a
line of bath products for men, and another photo shoot and interview with one
of Europe’s premier sports magazines.
    I don't know if it's just in my head or what, but I manage
to make my breakfast disappear unusually speedy for me. I'm finishing the last
of my apple juice when Diego walks back in with the PlayStation 2.
    "We're gonna play in here?" I ask.
    "Figured why leave bed until you absolutely have
to?"
    "You know when we play in the bedroom that I fight fire
with fire. You prepared to lose, Santo Feo ?" I taunt. I can see
that my words are jogging his memory back to one of the handful of times we
played FIFA as part of his pre-game ritual. I'm ridiculously awful at any of
these games that don't allow me to just rapidly press whatever fucking buttons
I want and score, win a fight, whatever the fuck ever. So, the first time he
talked me into playing with, or rather against, him, frustration led me to
strip and lay naked in front of him. I didn't end up winning, but instead of
losing with a goose egg to his dozen, I managed to get within one point of
tying.
    "Oh, Izzy," he tsks, "I've been onto your
evil ways for some time now." He removes his shirt. "I think you
might have bigger challenges," he finishes with a flex of his delectable
abs.
    Fuck me and be still my heart. I need to concentrate.
I hate losing, but damn he's edible. Unfortunately, the fact that I devoured
the breakfast he made me doesn't make me any less hungry for my ab-licious
husband.
    He hands me my purple glitter-fied and bedazzled controller,
"You ready?" I look in the direction of the television and there on
the screen is the start menu option for the game. I'm screwed. I was so focused
and distracted by his abs that I didn't notice he had moved on and connected
the game console.
    "I'm as ready as I'll ever be," I sigh.
    Despite my attempts to remain focused on the game we were
playing, the muscles in Diego's back were too distracting and the first game
ended with Diego having an insurmountable score and me calling the skunk rule.
I fared better the next couple of games only because halfway through game two,
I called a timeout for a potty break, but instead put on my sexiest piece of
lingerie. He was so distracted I managed to pull ahead by a point. In the
end, I still lost the games, but I called it a wash because I've never scored
so many points against him even on one of the rare times I had won.
    As per our game day ritual for him, we take a shower when
we're done with the customary three games of FIFA. Ever the doting husband and
father-to-be, Diego takes care of my needs first, washing my hair and then
scrubbing the rest of me from head to toe, paying extra attention to my belly.
He's so in love with him or her, I'd be jealous if this bundle of joy at the
center of his attention wasn't mine. Plus, there's no denying how much the man
adores me.
    "Diego," I whine, "I don't have a jersey to
wear." topping off my complaint with a pout for the good it does me; he's
in the bathroom trimming his beard down.
    " Bella , could you grab the box on my dresser in
the closet?" 
    "Sure," I grumble. He's either ignoring my pout or
he didn't hear me. Either way, I'm annoyed. "Here," setting the
box down on the counter beside him unable to