The early morning sunlight peeks through the slats of our bedroom blinds, long before my alarm is set to go off. I snuggle into Jimmy’s chest seeking warmth from the cold temperature in our bedroom, because of the central air conditioning. He likes it frigid, while I prefer it a bit warmer. I know it’s because he likes it when I use him to keep the chill away, not that I’m complaining. I’m more in love with him today than I was yesterday and the day before.

It’s nothing that he does to make me feel this way, other than share my life. From the day he convinced me to marry him, long before he shared the secret he knew he was the father of our daughter, he has showered me with a love I never knew existed, but always wanted. It’s the kind of love you read about in romance novels. His love is undying, never wavering, and the most fulfilling emotion I have ever experienced. Don’t get me wrong, the bloke can be the biggest arse known to man when he wants to be.

His strong hands and rough stubble against my sensitive neck thwarts my attempt to get out of bed. I curl into him, wishing I didn’t have to move, but excited I’m spending the week with my best friends. Josie, Katelyn, and I are headed to the Bahamas for a week of relaxation, spa treatments, and doing nothing but sitting by the pool or beach and sipping on whatever cocktail we want. No phones, no demanding rock-star husbands needing our attention, and no pre-teen drama to fill our days with.

“Don’t leave me,” he says between the kisses he trails from my ear down the slope of my neck and into the crook of my collarbone. His hand moves over my breast, my hip, and finally settles between my legs, cupping me. “One week without this and I will die,” he says in his British accent that can easily bring me to my knees. I would’ve thought that over the years I would’ve grown used to it, but I’m not. Every day, I yearn to hear his voice so I can feel my knees weaken and my heart race.

“You’ll have your hand,” I joke, but he doesn’t find the humor it in. One time, we tried to go weeks without sex while he was on tour. The whole band did, but that only lasted until halfway through the second week. None of us were surprised the guys couldn’t take it, considering all three of them act as if they’re still on honeymoons. Not that any of us are complaining, but it was a nice laugh to see their agony when we walked off the plane. I never did ask Josie and Katelyn how far they made it before their husbands begged for sex. Jimmy and I made it as far as the bathroom before he pulled me into the family stall and bent me over.

But that’s him. He’s the wild, unconventional one of the group. Liam is laidback while Harrison is reserved. Each guy brings a different dynamic to the table, making 4225 West a success.

“My hand wants your pussy,” he says, pushing a finger between my folds. I open for him automatically, letting him have whatever he wants. His ministrations are slow and teasing, knowing full well I’m going to give in and ask him to make love to me again before I leave.

“Jimmy.” His name falls breathlessly from my lips. Each time with him is like the first.

“What is it, wifey? Do you have an ache between your legs you need me to take care of?”

He’s evil, but I love him and quickly find myself nodding. Only he doesn’t roll me to my side or pull me on top of him. He takes his fingers, coated in my juices, and spreads them across my lips before kissing me.

“Fuck, Sweet Lips,” he says between his tongue licking away his creation. “I can’t get enough of you.” Finally, he pulls me on top of him and centers himself between my legs, guiding me down his shaft. My head falls back from the sensation of having him inside of me.

“God, Jimmy, will I ever…” my question ends when he pulls me forward and locks his arms around my back. His legs spread and his hips rise as he pumps into me. I cry out into the pillow beside me, fearful that Eden is awake and can hear us.

She is the only thing we’ve changed about our lovemaking. The beauty of Jimmy’s job is that when he’s home, she’s in school and the house is empty. Since moving to California, I haven’t worked, except for doing a little bit of marketing for the band and volunteering at Eden’s school.

Once she started asking questions, Jimmy and I had to get creative. Bathroom, garage, in the car, any and everywhere we can think where she won’t hear us. At night, pillows muffle our sounds while music plays or the television blares. It’s only when she’s gone to a sleepover do Jimmy and I get crazy.

The pressure he has on my clit and the angle he’s hitting my g-spot have me coming undone quickly. He’s mastered every position like clockwork, knowing which one he can take his sweet time with and which one he needs to hurry.

“Maybe I don’t need to go on vacation,” I say as I come down from my high. He chuckles and swats my ass to get me off him. Only I don’t move and it was never his intention to let me. Instead, he rolls us onto our sides and my hand instantly covers the scar that is left over from when my ex tried to kill him. His hand cups my cheek and his lips kiss me softly.

“You need this week, Jenna. You all do. You’ve been catering to us for so long now, doing what we asked, raising our children while we tour, and with everything you’ve been through, one week will not be the end of us. I can promise you that.”

I know he’s talking about the miscarriages I have endured. After the third, I stopped counting. I stopped taking tests to see if I was pregnant or counting when I would ovulate. For years, we have wanted another child, but the longer it’s taken, the less hope I have.

At first, it didn’t make sense. I got pregnant with Eden so easily, even with Jimmy using a condom. So, he tried that again, poking holes in them, thinking that was the trick. It wasn’t. We tried IVF. Nothing happened. Every homeopathic remedy we could find, we tried, only to fail.

And each time we did conceive, it was short lived. Each positive test only brought heartache and after a while, I started keeping my miscarriages to myself. I used to confide in Katelyn and Josie. I’d cry for days with Katelyn holding me while Josie would console me over the phone until she could arrive in California. But after the first few losses, I stopped telling them. The look on their faces or the sorrow in their voices was too much to take. For the longest time, they would keep asking if we would have more children and every answer was the same, “We’ll see.” All while I was dying on the inside.

Jimmy never let me grieve alone though. He was there, holding me and shedding tears with each loss. Promising me he’d do whatever he could to make this happen. He was tested and, of course, his sperm were perfect. I was tested and thought for sure we’d get an answer, but nothing came back as to why I couldn’t carry another baby. Another one wasn’t in the cards for us.

“I love you.” My hands cup his cheek and I move in for a kiss. Our lips linger against each other’s until I open my mouth to deepen it. Jimmy pulls my leg up over his hip and enters me again, but this time it’s different. There’s no urgency in his lovemaking. He’s simply reminding me of what I’ll be missing for a week and showing me what will be waiting for me when I come home.

“I have to get up,” I tell him not long after we’ve finished round two. He sighs, but rolls out of bed first and pulls on a pair of sweats.

“I’ll get Eden, you shower.” And just like that, he’s out of our room and down the hall, knocking on our daughter’s door. Jimmy learned a long time ago to knock before entering. He once saw her posing in front of the mirror with only her bikini on and threatened to ground her for a month even though she wasn’t doing anything wrong.

After I shower and finish packing, I head downstairs to find Jimmy and Eden sitting at the kitchen island eating breakfast in silence. Right away, I know something is wrong, but I’m afraid to ask.

“Mum, you can’t leave me with Dad,” Eden says in her adopted accent. I thought for sure she would speak American, but considering she spends the summers in England, I’m not surprised she has a bit of a British tongue to her dialect. “Mum, please?” The look on her face is one of desperation.

“Why not?”

“Because she wants to invite a bloody bloke over and I ain’t having it.”

“Not just a boy, Daddy, all my friends. I can’t help that my friends are boys too.”

I look from Jimmy to Eden and crack a smile. Any reservations I had about leaving are gone. These two need a week alone together. But still, I offer a suggestion. “How about I call my mom and invite her, yeah?”

Jimmy spits his coffee back into his mug and glares at me, then Eden. “You’d really do that to your old man, Little One? Make him spend a week with your granny?”

Still to this day my parents and Jimmy don’t always see eye to eye, but they get along. I don’t know if it stems from him getting me pregnant during a one-night stand, the fact that he took me away to get married, or that he’s a musician. He’s cordial though and welcomes them warmly when they come to visit.

Eden laughs, knowing full well that her father would rather die than spend the week with my mother.

“Tell you what, Jimmy. Let Eden have her friends over as planned and ask Elle and Quinn to come over to help you babysit.”

At the sound of Quinn’s name, Eden’s eyes light up. This isn’t lost on Jimmy in the least.

“Er, fuck no,” he says, pushing away from the island. “I’ll bloody well look after everyone myself.” He storms out of the kitchen, muttering who knows what. Eden and I both laugh uncontrollably when we hear the bedroom door shut.

“That was brilliant, Mum.”

I shake my head. “You listen good, Eden. Do not do anything to piss off your father. He’s having a hard enough time with you growing up. The last thing you want is to find yourself locked in your room for a week.”

“He wouldn’t.”

“I would, so don’t even try it,” Jimmy says as he comes back into the room. “Come on, let’s go. We need to take your mum to the airport to meet your Aunt Katelyn, then you and I are going to have a long father-daughter chat on the way to school.”

“I’m going to die,” she mutters, sliding off the stool.

“No, you’re not, Eden. I’ll only be gone for a week.”

“A week in the life of a teenager is like a year. You’re killing me,” she huffs on her way out to the car. Jimmy grabs my hand and pulls me back.

“I’m going to die a very painful death, but I’m happy you’re having a vacation and I love you.”

“Now I know where Eden gets all her drama from.”

“From me, of course,” he says, winking. “Now get your arse in the car, Sweet Lips.”