by Cora Kenborn
Blue. Blue Blue.
Everything was blue.
Not pink.
Blue.
Still with my feet in the stirrups, I glared over the edge of the bed at the doctor. “How? The ultrasound said it was a boy. We saw a penis. Put it back in; it’s not done. The penis hasn’t popped out yet.”
Savannah tapped me on the shoulder, biting her lip to keep from laughing. “Ads, it’s a penis, not a turkey timer.”
Coach Dick shrugged. “Sometimes the baby’s arm can get in the way and appear to be a penis on an ultrasound.”
“You people thought my baby’s arm was a penis?” Completely losing my shit, I turned to Zep. “Your penis doesn’t look like an arm. Why would they think that?”
As if synchronized, my father, Bam-Bam, and Pope all winced and waved their hands in the air. “Whoa, too much info, Addie.”
As I proceeded to have an irrational meltdown, Zep disappeared from my side, a few moments later returning with a tiny human wrapped in a blanket. Words stuck in my throat as the image of his muscular, tattooed arms cradling his child with such protective love imprinted on my heart.
It was all I could do not to break down as raw emotion overtook him. Sitting beside me, he tilted the blanket, and two very blue eyes stared back at me.
“Addie, breathe. Meet our little girl.”
My chest tightened. “I didn’t plan for a girl.”
“We didn’t plan for a kid. Hell, we didn’t plan for each other at all.” Closing even more distance between us, he smiled down at her. “Baby, look at her. She looks just like you.”
Before I knew it, I’d caressed her cheek. She was beautiful—tanned skin just like Zep, a headful of reddish-brown hair, and the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. I knew all babies were born with blue eyes, but somehow, I knew hers would stay the same pale, icy blue color I lost my heart to as a teenager.
“She’s got your eyes.”
We were finally at peace.
But reality overshadowed any peace we’d found when I realized she was she. And she couldn’t be the he who we’d called by name the past few months.
“We don’t have a name. Zep, we can’t call her Charlie.”
He shrugged. “Why not? It’s cute. I like it.”
“It’s a boy’s name, that’s why.”
Zep thought for a minute. “Okay, we can spell it with two ‘e’s, and it can be short for Charlotte if it bothers you that much. I don’t think using Beaudean as a middle name is still a good idea, though. She might hate us for life for that one.”
I couldn’t argue with his logic. However, in the craziness of the whole ordeal, I realized one person had slipped into the room without fanfare. She stood in the corner, tears rolling down her face as she gazed at Charlee with the love only a grandmother could have.
“No, but we can use another family name,” I said, my eyes never leaving her.
Knowing me as well as he did, Zep didn’t ask. He just raised an eyebrow and waited for my announcement.
Wrapping my arms around the outside of Zep’s, I kissed our daughter’s forehead. “Happy Birthday, Charlotte Olivia LeBlanc.”
Zep’s mother stepped forward, her earlier tears now full sobs as she realized what I’d done. Liv LeBlanc had raised Zep on her own and was a perfect role model for our daughter.
“That’s my name,” she whispered, her voice shaking.
“I know.” I smiled as Zep tried unsuccessfully to hide the wetness trailing down his cheeks. “She needs a name that comes from two strong role models. My Pappy was my hero.” Sneaking another glance at Zep, I watched him swallow hard as he fought his breakdown. “And you are her father’s.”
Liv covered her face with her hands and lost it as Mama embraced her, both grandmothers bonding for the first time.
And that was when it hit me. I was a mother. Zep was a father. We were parents.
Everything had changed.
Zep cleared his throat, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for this. Thank you for coming back to me and making every day without you worth the wait. I’m not good with words, Addie, but there’s nothing you could ever give me that could top this.” Zep raked his thumb across my cheek and kissed me, his voice heavy with emotion. “I love you.”
When I said everything had changed, I meant it. Nothing before today mattered anymore. All sins were forgiven. As far as I was concerned, today was the first day of my life.
Zep said there was nothing I could ever give him to top our daughter. Maybe not, but there was something else I could give him that he more than deserved.
Looking into his eyes, I let go of the fear. “I love you too.”
Before he could respond, the entire room broke into a collective sigh. “It’s about time.”
76
Mr. and Mrs. Pope
Savannah
Terrebonne Parish, Louisiana
“We should probably head out and give Mama and baby some time to rest,” I offered, noticing my sister’s drooping eyelids. My brand-new niece had been alive for all of four hours and had been followed around the hospital by half the parish while Addie fought to stay conscious. The look my sister gave me was nothing short of pitiful and made me feel like a giant ass for not noticing her bloodshot eyes and pale face sooner.
After another round of hugs and congratulatory back slaps, I managed to round up every second cousin and stray aunt who’d made their way to the hospital with us and herded them out of the room. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I’d heard Addie snoring before I closed the door behind the procession of well-wishers.
Babs nudged my side with her bony elbow. “Lucky she sleep now. Get baby Charlee home and no sleep for month.”
I winced at Babs’ insight because according to television, she wasn’t far off. Babies were cute, but they were a lot of work. As scary as the thought was, it was equally exciting. I wasn’t too stoked about getting projectile vomited on or any impending poop explosion, but at the same time, I couldn’t wait to see Charlee crawl and take her first steps.
“Are you ready to go?” Deputy Dipshit asked as he pushed off the far wall of the waiting room. The sheriff rose to his feet as we approached.
“Are you kidding me? You are going to make me sleep on that shitty cot on my wedding night? When was the last time you got that place fumigated, huh? I’m pretty sure I saw a rat scurry its disease riddled ass across my cell last night, not to mention the cockroaches and black widows. Honestly, if I were you, Tuck, I’d let my happy ass go home just to avoid a massive lawsuit.”
His eyes widened. “Savvy—”
“I can see the headlines now. ‘Aged Local Sheriff Locks up Senator’s Daughter-In-Law On Wedding Night, Found Dead Of Dysentery The Next Morning’. Wait, that might be too long. Maybe ‘Sheriff Kills Fellow Officer’s New Bride’? Yeah, that has a ring to it. What do you think, Tuck?” I sucked in a lungful of air, trying to catch my breath.
It’d been a while since I used my powers of long-winded, nonsense speeches, but by the flabbergasted look on the sheriff’s face, I almost had him. I just needed a little more to cinch it.
“Technically, she’ll still be in police custody with me, and I can assure you my wife will be on time for her arraignment Monday morning.”
My husband was a fatherfucking genius.
It didn’t escape me that I referred to him as my husband, and he called me his wife.
Even the thought of the word gave me goosebumps and sent a jolt of desire through my body. I couldn’t wait to hear him call me that while we were wrapped up together in bed with his hands on my skin, our limbs tangled together, and our bodies slick with sweat.
“Fine, but if she’s not there, it’s going to be more than my ass on the line,” the sheriff said, pinning Pope with a stern glare.
Pope curled a heavy arm around my shoulders and pulled me in with a nod. “Understood, sir.”
Hell yes! Home free.
Not wanting to give Tucker a chance to change hi
s mind, I steered Pope toward the exit. The faster we got out of there, the faster we could get naked and horizontal.
“Now hold on just a doggone second, little miss.”
Oh shit.
I slowly turned, praying to all that was holy it wasn’t who I thought it was.
It was.
Sure enough, the reason I wasn’t halfway to putting myself into a cock coma manifested in an amazon of a woman wearing a stained, oversized T-shirt with a Chihuahua on the front and the words “Yo Quiero Taco Bell” emblazoned above his sombrero. The ensemble was capped off by a pair of gray sweatpants and duct taped black tennis shoes.
“Auntie Sis!” There was pain in the fake smile I plastered across my face as I greeted my mother’s sister. I tried to mask it, but there was no use. It wasn’t that I didn’t love my aunt. Next to Babs and my immediate family, she was probably my favorite relative. However, she was seriously cramping my style at the moment, and in all honesty, I just really, really, really wanted to get laid.
“Child, if you bothered to come out and visit your auntie, I wouldn’t have to track y’all down like this.”
Feeling rightfully abashed, I averted my eyes. Auntie Sis spoke nothing but the truth, as always. Whereas my mama was painfully polite and would go to great lengths to steer any conversation clear of uncomfortable topics, her sister would shotgun a beer, burp in your face, and ask you to rate it.
Huh. Sounds familiar.
“I’m sorry, Auntie Sis. This is my husband, Pope.”
My husband extended his hand to shake, but instead of taking it, she crossed her arms and eyed him. “I thought your last name was Pope?”
“Yes, ma’am, it is. Quentin is my given name, but most people call me Pope.”
She pursed her lips and stared and him for a moment as if considering whether or not his answer had been sufficient enough for her liking.
“Now see, I would’ve known that if my niece ever came down for a visit,” she announced with a sly smile.
I felt a blush creep up my neck, all earlier desire abandoning me for a new coat of shame. I’d been a crappy sister and daughter for most of my life, and I started to realize the list of shit I was crappy at was exponentially longer than I’d initially thought.
“Things have been nuts for us, especially with the move, taking over the business, and then planning a wedding,” I explained. “I promise Addie and I will make an effort to visit more often.”
“That’s a load of gator shit, and you know it.”
Of course, I knew it. The woman didn’t do bullshit or niceties. Asking her if you looked fat in a pair of jeans ended with her holding up a mirror to your backside and a detailed analysis of your cellulite. My aunt wasn’t a mean-spirited person. On the contrary, she was the most honest and giving individual I’d ever met. She’d give you the shirt off her own back, but it was wise not ask her a question you didn’t want the answer to because she’d tell the truth without one ounce of a bedside manner. Nope, Bam-Bam’s mama was a straight shooter one hundred percent of the time. I wasn’t even sure the woman knew how to lie.
I stared at the scuff mark my boot made on the waiting room floor feeling efficiently chastised.
“Enough lookin’ like someone shit in your shoes, little miss.” Auntie Sis waved a hand at me as if she were trying to dispel my guilt. “Come give me a hug so you can go put your man’s standard issue handcuffs to good use.”
A painful snort tore through my sinuses, and I had to bite my lip from laughing when I caught a glimpse of Pope’s startled face. I would’ve thought he’d be used to outrageous shit coming out of my relatives’ mouths by now, but apparently not.
Once Auntie Sis got her fill of news and gossip, she gave each of us a rib-crushing hug and scampered down the hallway, the soles of her shoes flapping with every step.
“Gah, I just can’t get over how perfect she is.” I gushed as we started up the walk to our front door.
Pope chuckled, fitting the key into the lock before flicking his eyes to mine. “She is pretty amazing, but I must admit, there’s only one woman in my life who could ever hold the title of perfect. It just so happens that I married her today.” When the lock clicked open, he flashed me a grin before bending at the waist and hauling me over his shoulder.
My hands grasped at his ass, trying to find purchase and re-set my disturbed equilibrium. “What the hell?”
“I’m supposed to carry you over the threshold, Savannah. It’s tradition.”
Someone needed to call a doctor because I was pretty sure my heart had melted into a puddle of goo and was no longer up to the task of keeping me alive. I usually bucked tradition at every turn, but when Pope did something chivalrous or sweet, I couldn’t help but turn to putty. Thank Christ, he hadn’t figured that tidbit of information out yet. Otherwise, I’d be screwed and not in the good way.
I slapped his ass in protest, letting my hands linger ever so slightly on the firm specimen. My man could pull off slacks better than Beckham. “We’re over the threshold. Are you going to put me down now?”
Pope chuckled and retaliated with a smack of his own, although my ass was covered with so many layers of fabric from my massive dress, I barely felt it. “Are you going to stop talking about our adorable niece?”
Our niece.
Every time he opened his mouth, he managed to unintentionally say something sweet, reminding me our lives were permanently interconnected.
I wiggled a little, hoping he’d give up and put me down. “It’s just so hard. She’s incredible, all little and squishy.”
The shoulder that dug into my solar plexus began to shake with his laughter as he crossed into our bedroom, completely ignoring my protests. One moment I was kicking my legs and trying to pants him from my upside-down position, and the next I was flying backward onto the bed.
“Yes, babies are cute, and ours will be even cuter. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to focus on what comes before the baby.”
I blinked up at him, confused. However, when his palms trailed over my legs, inching the skirt of my dress up on the way, I began to understand.
“I think we’re going to get a lot of practice in,” he whispered before dipping his head to place a feather light kiss on the inside of my thigh.
His tongue flicked out, and he nipped at the sensitive skin, throwing my libido into overdrive. All the urgency I felt at the hospital came roaring back, and suddenly I couldn’t wait for more. As unabashed as ever, I wiggled my hips and pulled at his shoulders, trying to get him where I wanted him.
He clucked his tongue at me and shook his head. “Not yet, I want to unwrap you first.”
Taking my hands, he pulled me up and off the bed. His hands danced up the heated skin of my arms before gently coming to rest on the back of my neck. His thumbs traced up the column of my neck and ran along the underside of my jaw.
I felt raw and exposed while being completely clothed, his stare caressing my face like a physical touch.
“Wife,” he said softly, one thumb coming up to press against my bottom lip.
“Husband,” I choked out through the sudden onslaught of emotion.
He was mine, and I was his, finally. I couldn’t have dreamed up a more perfect man for me, and the soft way his eyes roamed my face told me he felt the same way.
“I love you,” he breathed, and I felt his words to my core. No matter how many times he said it, his love for me rocked me to the center of my being every time.
My lips quivered when I returned the sentiment. “I love you too.” I wasn’t entirely sure why we were whispering, but it felt like raising our voices would break some spell and ruin the moment.
Pope’s lips kicked up on one side with a small smile before he bent closer and covered my mouth with a toe-curling kiss. My lips parted automatically, granting him access, and he took it, deepening the kiss and leaving me breathless. He pulled away suddenly, and before I had time to get my bearings, his hands gripped my shoulders and spun me
around.
His fingers worked deftly on the zipper at my back, and before I knew it, the layers of gauzy material pooled at my feet. My dress had a built-in bustier, so I stood there in nothing more than a flimsy lace thong and my boots. He stepped closer, fitting himself to my back and trailed wet kisses along my shoulder and up my neck while his hands circled to my front and cupped my bare breasts.
My breath caught in my throat when his fingers closed around the stiff peaks of my nipples, rolling and pinching them in the most delicious way. I felt like a live wire with nowhere to hold on and nothing to ground me. A mewling sound came from the back of my throat without my permission, and my heart rate kicked up in tempo. Before long, I was panting and grinding myself against the hard length pressed into my lower back.
He sucked on the sensitive skin just below my ear. “Shhh.”
“I, I need…” I couldn’t even finish my sentence. I was so turned on that speech was a long-forgotten skill.
I felt his lips form a smile on my skin. “I know what you need, relax.”
Roughened hands trailed over my belly and directly into the delicate lace of my panties. His fingers played with the sensitive skin at my core, sweeping teasing strokes over my clit and circling my entrance, but never quite giving me what my body craved.
“Please,” I begged without thought. I just needed him. I couldn’t take his teasing any longer.
“Fuck.” He bit out the curse and pressed himself against my back more firmly, groaning at the sensation before spinning me around to face him.
One look at his face and I knew he was just as worked up as I was, but unfortunately, he had way too many clothes on. Without the finesse that he’d possessed, I tore at his clothes. It was a mess of flying buttons and stretched fabric, but I managed to get him down to his boxer briefs in record time.
