“You sure Devon hasn’t robbed the store blind?” Nic asks as we munch through the last of the twisty breadsticks.
“I’m sure she did fine,” I reply, shrugging. The real world is starting to loom over us again, both of us coming down from the lovers’ high we’ve been on. “She’s been fine on her own before. Still, I wish it wasn’t almost time to go back to work.”
Nic chuckles, the bounce of his chest vibrating me and making my breasts jiggle. “If I were an independently wealthy multi-millionaire, we could just stay holed up here forever.”
“Naked and fucking and recovering to do it all again,” I add, smiling some. My pussy aches . . . but still wants one last knockout before our mini-vacation ends.
Nic seems to read my mind, bringing his right hand up to cup my breast, rolling my nipple between his finger and thumb. “Mmm, that does sound like a good plan. Too bad folks would eventually come looking for us. And the fact that we do have jobs.”
“I didn’t hear from Devon all weekend except when I called her to check in. She’s doing great, so maybe I could disappear from the shop for a few more days. You?”
Nic shakes his head, a regretful sigh escaping. “I have to check in with the deal here, and then first thing Tuesday, I have to fly out for a few days to go to Maine for another contract. My boss cleared my schedule on most of the stuff, but that one’s a tough one we couldn’t shift onto someone else. I’d say you could come with me, but snowmobiling in your condition probably isn’t recommended.”
He smiles, but I have a small stabbing pain in my heart. I sit up, looking into his eyes, the accusation clear but I can’t help it. “You’re leaving again?” It sounds bad but I just can’t help myself, the emotions rolling inside me.
The smile falls from his face, a serious look taking over as he pushes my hair behind my ear and looks me in the eyes. “Just for a few days,” he vows. “I’ll be right back, I promise. Like I said, my boss is clearing my schedule as much as he can, and I’m taking some long-deserved vacation time too. I’ll be back, Rose. I’ll call you every night to check in on you and Amelia.”
He moves forward, sealing the vow with a kiss. I feel a bit silly for my melodramatic reaction, but I can’t help it. The last time he left, I didn’t see or hear from him for months, and I don’t want that to happen again, especially when it feels like we’re doing something big here. “Okay,” I tell him when our kiss breaks apart.
“So, where were we? Let’s see what we can do before we actually have to sleep and behave like adults again.”
* * *
Nic is as amazing as ever, but by Friday, I’m missing him physically and mentally. We’ve gotten pretty damn good at Skype sex, especially after I figured out how to hook my laptop up to my TV. Watching Nic’s cock in even larger than life-size is very . . . motivating, I think with a blush as I get the morning stocking done at the shop.
Before this week, I’d never done anything like that, just some dirty talk over the phone and maybe a little sexting. But every night this week, Nic has called me, and after a quick check-in and chat, we’ve resorted to telling each other all the wicked things we want to do to each other when we’re together again. I’d never known that masturbating while Nic’s deep voice, gravelly with lust, tells me what to do would be so amazing, or that I’d find it so erotic to watch him jack off as he watches me.
Twice, we’ve even come together. It’s not as good as having him here, but not a bad backup for a few days.
At that, my brain screeches to a halt . . . a few days? Yeah, that’s what he said, but it’s quickly turned into a week, and last night, Nic said not to expect him back until Wednesday at the earliest.
“I’m sorry, babe, but these guys in Maine are being . . . well, let’s just say Flinty-Eyed Yankee Traders isn’t all just hyperbole,” he’d said. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
It was okay last night, but now I’m trying not to be upset. After all, he has a job to do and I can’t expect him to change everything in an instant. His boss is supposedly trying to be cool, but in the end, he has to do what’s best for the company. I’m still busy working the boutique, so I have to give him some leeway to do what he needs to as well. It’s not like I could just close up shop and traipse around the country with him right now either.
I’m just in a vulnerable moment and I miss him. That’s why I’m going out to dinner tonight after work. I called Brad, and the Four Musketeers are going on the town tonight. Yeah, there’s supposed to be three, but none of us do what we’re supposed to anyway, so for tonight, four it is.
As usual, I’m the last to slide into the booth next to Ana as Brad and Trey sit across from us. Brad looks tired but happy, while Trey’s buffer than ever and Ana looks . . . well, to be honest, she looks like she’s seen better days. I hope the ER shifts aren’t wearing her out too much.
“Well, hello to you, Bitch Mama!” Brad says, raising his mixed drink high. Only Brad—what the hell could he be drinking that is violently neon blue with a pineapple chunk on the rim?
I look down my nose, the sass that Brad has taught me dripping from every word. “I think you’d better correct yourself. I’m Mama Bitch, not Bitch Mama, unless you’re calling my baby a bitch. And if that’s the case, we’re gonna have more than words.”
“Is that so?” Brad asks, raising a finely sculpted eyebrow. “What’s more than words supposed to mean?”
“It means for the first time in your life, a woman’s gonna have her hands on your balls as she lifts them high in the air as a trophy before she makes them into some Rocky Mountain Oysters.”
There’s a pause of silence before we all burst out laughing.
Through snorting laughs, Brad toasts me. “That was so classic! Mama Bitch, Bitch Mama . . . Rocky Mountain Oysters.” He rolls his head around on the last bit as he mimics me, thrusting his hand into the air like Wonder Woman holding her sword high.
Beginning to sober, he continues. “I’ve taught you well, Rose. Maybe a little too well. Although I do like the way you defend Jelly Bean, because if anyone says one word to that little baby, I will have their hide. Trust me, I know people. Scissors and lug wrenches are just the beginning.”
We laugh a little more until I’m holding my belly because my abs hurt from the shakes of the giggles. “Enough, enough . . . before I spill Jelly Bean all over this floor.”
Trey snorts before leaning forward, his eyes wide with curiosity. “Okay, now that that’s over, spill it, girl. Brad hasn’t told me what the doc said and I’m dying here.”
I look to Brad, who calmly takes another sip of his blue concoction. “You didn’t tell him?”
Brad smirks back, shaking his head. “Not my story to tell, and I don’t gossip, you know?”
I’m incredulous, glancing at Ana, who snorts herself. “You liar, you’re the biggest gossip queen I know! Half the things that go on in this town I know because you told me!”
“Only the interesting things,” Brad says, defending himself. “And only people I don’t count as family. Jelly Bean’s gender isn’t anyone’s business but ours. But your weekend boinkfest, on the other hand . . .”
“You didn’t!” I squeal, but one look tells me the truth. Looking back to Trey, who’s blushing lightly, I shake my head. “Holy shit, Trey. I’m sorry. I figured you already knew from Mr. Knows-All-Tells-All here. Jelly Bean is . . . drumroll, please.” I bang on the table lightly for myself. “A baby girl!”
Trey and Ana squeal, excited for me, and their excitement is so infectious that all four of us are shaking as we holler in delight. Ana wraps an arm around me, hugging me.
“I’m so happy for you, Rose!” she says with a sweet intensity. “A baby girl! You’re gonna have to be careful that Brad doesn’t snatch her away and put her in baby pageants.”
Brad’s eyes light up like that’s actually a good idea, and I know I need to squash it before the idea takes root. “Absolutely not. No tiaras and poufy dresses unless you’re play
ing dress-up at home. And by the way, Devon sold you out on the rhinestone tiara headband. Really? That’s probably a choking hazard or something anyway!”
Brad deflates, his lower lip jutting out in a pout. “Fine, bitch, but pageants are awesome. She could win some scholarship money or something, you know?”
I smile back, trying not to roll my eyes. “You don’t give a rat’s ass about college money. You just care about the glitter and stomping down a runway. Hell, if there were a way to do it, you’d be out there yourself.” I pull my lips into a duck-lip, squinty-eye model look and we all bust out in laughter again.
“All right, you’ve got me there. Just don’t ever do that face again. Definitely not model material there.” He continues, not even letting me poke him back. “So, I know I said I’m not a gossip, but I totally already told Trey about Nic showing back up, and presumably, he told Ana. So what’s the deal on the daddy front?”
I smile, the thought of Nic warming me up from the inside. “Things are going good. We had a bit of a miscommunication and a blow-up initially, and some shock on his part, for damn sure. But he’s great.”
“Bit of a blow-up, she says,” Brad grumbles. “You had me ready to call in the cavalry!”
I smirk, knowing Brad’s right, and continue. “We’ve gone on a date or two, he went to the last check-up with me, we spent last weekend together, and he seems really onboard now. We’re doing great.”
Brad eyeballs me, his chin tilted down a bit. “Like I said, Boinkfest. Boinkfest Two, actually. Isn’t that how you got into this pickle in the first place?”
Trey rolls his eyes. “Ignore him. It’s like he’s thirteen sometimes. But he does have a point . . . a weekend together?”
I’m sure my eyes go slightly glassy as I think back, and I can’t keep a hint of wistfulness out of my voice. “Yep, a whole weekend of naked, sweaty awesomeness. And I’m ready for an encore.”
Ana whistles lowly, and probably a bit jealously. “So, where’s he at now?”
My drink comes, a virgin margarita, but that’s okay. No booze for the next few months. “Maine. He had to go for work for a few days, but unfortunately, it’s turned into longer.”
Trey looks thoughtful, forming his next words carefully. “He’s traveling? He does that a lot, right?” He continues as soon as I nod. “So you said ‘he’s great’ and ‘we’re great’ and those are two very different things. Which is it . . . or both?”
That’s Trey, a ton of muscle, but he’s also smart as hell too and has good insight. “Hopefully both. He seems okay with the pregnancy stuff now, and we had a really great weekend. I think we’re on to something. We just haven’t figured it all out yet. I mean, the timeline’s still really sudden.”
Brad and Trey look at each other, a silent conversation flashing through their eyes before Brad turns to me, concerned. “Rose, babe, you’re a Disney Princess kinda girl. You believe in romantic fairy tales where princes ride in on white horses to save the day and whisk you away to a castle for a happily ever after.”
I shake my head, grumbling. “I’m not some sappy naive girl.”
Brad raises a hand, shaking his head. “I know you’re not. That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that you’re a dreamer, and in your heart, you’ve always wanted the husband, kids, dog, and picket fence picture. And sometimes that happens, but I’m just not sure that’s happening right now. I mean, he’s here for what, a week or so? And then he’s gone again.”
I know Brad’s trying to help me out, but I still feel a little pissed and I’m ready to argue back. “Yeah, he’s gone, but he’s called every night. And it’s not like he can just give up his work. He has responsibilities.”
Trey reaches across the table, taking my hand. “I get that, Rose. He does have responsibilities . . . you and the baby. Just don’t get so caught up in a fantasy that you don’t see reality. We’re just worried and looking out for you.”
Nicolas
It’s been the most pleasant version of hell the last few days. On one hand, I’ve gotten to do a lot of things that I love—snowshoeing, cross-country skiing, and snowmobiling as I work with these tightfisted potential customers who all want demonstrations that ADRENALIN’s gear is up to the challenge. But I miss Rose, and every morning, I wake up feeling worse about that. I’m just thankful that it’s over and the contracts are signed. Hopefully, that’ll keep Wes off my back for a little bit longer too.
I slipped off to Maine for what was supposed to be a few days, promising to call Rose every night and be back as soon as possible. But a trip that was supposed to be three or four days has turned into over a week now, and I’m hating that.
Our nightly phone calls were the only thing keeping me sane, even as I enjoy my work of talking to folks about our products and getting to do some real demos out on the machines in the woods. Each conversation started with her telling me about her customers at the shop, but she’s also told me how she discovered that our little Amelia apparently loves hip hop music because she squirms around to the beat, and how she was doing some online window shopping with Brad on furniture for the nursery.
That last one hurt a little, the stab at not being involved in choosing a crib a surprise to me, but mostly, I’ve been glad she’s happy. I’ve told her about the deals I was working, the adventures I had out in the woods, even the bears we’d accidentally come upon in a cave when we we’re getting out of the cold on a hike. In every word, though, it’s been great, because Rose has been positive that she and I would see each other soon and that I’m going to be a part of Amelia’s life.
It touches me, it really does. And I want to be a good father, but that’s more than money. Honestly, the Skype sex is the only thing saving me from quitting on the spot and running back to Rose, knowing she wants me just as much and that soon enough, we’ll figure out our future.
I’ve been thinking more about that as my few days in Maine turned into a week, and I’m excited to see her in person again after the up and down of missing her, having fun with work, missing her again, and then getting to talk to her. It’s going to help me figure out that next step.
Rapping on the door, I’m prepped for a hot reunion, and when the door opens, I can’t help but look Rose up and down, taking her in. She’s dressed in a sweet little dress, hugging her curves and totally inappropriate for the weather . . . but I don’t think we’re going to be leaving the house for a while anyway.
“Damn, Rose, looking good,” I say, pulling her in tight and sweeping her into my arms, hugging her as I kiss her deeply with all the passion we’ve been keeping on simmer while I’ve been gone. Pulling back, I drop to my knees in front of her. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Rose looks shocked, blinking at me as she reaches for my hands. “Nic, we’re right in the doorway. The neighbors can see!”
I hear the embarrassment in her voice, but I hug her belly, kissing just to the side of her belly button. “Just wanted to say Daddy’s home to my baby too, that’s all. Let ‘em watch.”
Rose blushes, rubbing my hair as she struggles to find her words again. “Oh, that’s not what I thought you were doing.”
I look up at her, offering a wink as I get up. Of course I knew what she thought I was doing, and I’ll admit that I’ve mused about it. But this isn’t the time, I know that. “Oh, I want to, but not where the neighborhood can watch.”
Getting to my feet, I put an arm around her shoulders as we go inside and settle onto the couch, Rose curled up in my side as I keep her snuggled against me. For the moment, I’m happy just to hold her and trace little circles around her growing bump. Has it really been that long? Or is she just growing that quickly?
Rose lets me keep stroking her belly through her dress but turns to look me in the eyes. “Hey, Nic, can we talk?”
The tone in her voice worries me, but I nod, looking at her with a slightly distressed smile. “That sounds ominous, but of course.”
Rose shifts, turning a little to look more directly
at me, and while my arm’s still around her, it’s not as close as it was before. “What are we doing here? I get that you have a job, and I don’t really expect you to just stay here. But . . . what are you thinking is going to be the reality of things after Amelia is born?”
I’ve known the question was coming. I’ve been thinking about it in the back of my mind myself. But somehow, it doesn’t make it any easier to answer. Mainly because while I’ve spent a lot of hours thinking about it. I still don’t quite know what the hell’s going on. Everything’s moving so fast.
The hardest part was waiting at the airport to come back. I’d talked with Wes, who I was glad was mostly supportive. “Glad to know that, man. Listen, can you set aside some time next week for a serious Skype conversation?”
I held in a chuckle, thinking about the sort of ‘serious Skyping’ I’ve been doing for the past week and some change, but kept my voice level. “Sure, man. What about?”
“About the next few months for you,” Wes said. “I don’t want to be a dick, but you know that the next three months are a big time for us. The summer season’s kicking in and all the new lines are coming out. That means a big deal to ADRENALIN’s bottom line.”
“I know, but she’s just past the halfway mark. I mean, I just learned I’ve got a daughter on the way, and her name’s gonna be Amelia. How can I be running around the ass-end of Vermont or rolling down some whitewater course in Kentucky when Rose might be in labor?”
There’s a silence on the other end, then Wes sighs. “You’re right. I didn’t want to bring it up right now. Listen, we’ll still talk, but I want you to give me a plan on how the rest of the sales staff can handle the territories on a more permanent basis, not just an ‘oh, shit, cover for me’ way. Maybe some of them need to step the fuck up and start earning their keep. Time to stop earning base and earn some commission.”
Baby Fever Page 11
