Hormotional

by K. S. Adkins

  So no, they didn’t know.

  How precious it was when my son wrapped his tiny fingers around my ma’s.

  Just like I do.

  The look on my dad’s face when he placed his hand over her heart to remind himself it beat for him.

  How they looked together, caring and loving my son.

  It nearly brought me to my knees when my dad carefully moved his grandson from his chest to my ma’s.

  Because when she was raising me, ma didn’t have this.

  Yet, she did it just the same and knowing her wouldn’t have had it any other way.

  Elizabeth Temple wouldn’t see raising me alone as a loss.

  Not when Elizabeth Temple finally won.

  Wrapping her arms around my middle, Destiny rested her head on my chest and watched them with me.

  When I first met her, I spoke of two things.

  My ma and Luke.

  What I saw between them, what I hoped would become the love of a lifetime.

  How often I prayed for my ma, how I secretly prayed for a man like Luke to call dad.

  I told her I wanted a love like that for myself, would settle for nothing less.

  And how lucky for me, I had found that in the woman in my arms.

  Hell, I knew it the second she shook my hand.

  “Was your dad happy you said yes?”

  Destiny was referring to my dad offering me full ownership in Safe & Sound Security as a pre-wedding gift. Since ma had been hurt, he refused to be away from her. He said these were his best years, and he wanted them spent with his woman. He also said he wanted me to do what I did best, to be able to provide for my family, and one day pass it on to my own son.

  “He shed a few tears,” I smiled, remembering the moment. Honestly, I loved that my dad showed his feelings. That I always knew where his heart was—right there on his sleeve for us to see.

  “I love Luke,” she said sweetly, and she truly did love him. Hell, for a solid week after giving birth, she apologized for screaming at him.

  “He loves you, too, Des.”

  “Should we tell them we’re awake?” she whispered with a smile in her voice.

  “No,” I said, kissing her soft hair. “Let’s make use of our time.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  Fighting a yawn, I told her, “Sleeping. I want you where you belong. In my arms.”

  “Oh, thank God,” she sighed happily. “I’m exhausted, Ram.”

  It was there, hidden in the hallway, watching my son sleep safely, peacefully, on my ma’s heart with my dad holding them close, I understood a parent’s love for their child.

  My ma’s fierce undying love for me.

  How right she was when she said your child is your heart beating outside of your chest.

  Watching my ma now, I could clearly see how she had cared for me when I was an infant.

  After all these years, this was the first time I was seeing her relaxed, and it struck me deep.

  And it’s because of my ma I finally understood sacrifice.

  My wife could destroy a room in under a minute.

  And give a verbal smackdown any man could appreciate.

  She could also do both while crying.

  Telling Lizzy her tears were pretty made it worse. Offering her a cold shower when she got hot sent her to the fridge for a beer. But goddamn, laughing at her meltdown put her over the fucking edge.

  It was hilarious.

  Okay, maybe it wasn’t the laughing that did it.

  Although, it surely didn’t help.

  But what was I supposed to do when she walked into the bedroom naked, pointed at her bare pussy and said, “I have a fat vagina,” with an honest to God straight face.

  So, I laughed.

  Hard.

  Then I told her, I loved her vagina and didn’t care if it jiggled.

  This did not go over well because she went right to the closet, grabbed my boot. I knew what was coming, so I of course protected my investment. This pissed her off even more.

  Boot in hand, she went left, and I blocked her.

  She went right, and I spanked her butt.

  When she tried going between my legs, I tried playing with the hole in her ass, and she kicked me.

  Now we were having a standoff.

  No bullshit, I was close to pissing myself, I was having so much fun. With Lizzy, I didn’t feel fifty.

  I felt like a fucking kid again.

  When she eyed my nuts, I covered them. I knew her rant was over when she started laughing at the scene before her.

  Tackling her to the bed, I teared the boot away to toss it over my shoulder.

  Pinning her arms over her head, I reigned kisses all over her face until she melted beneath me.

  As always, my wife wanted what only I could give her.

  “I love you, Luke,” she said, wrapping her legs around me.

  “I love you too, Lizzy. Even with that black chin hair waving at me.”

  And I loved her even more when she punted me clear off the bed.

  My Lizzy was a hormotional dream come true.

  When the Starship was designed, it was way ahead of its time.

  Because in 1985, a sports car featuring a digital dashboard was unheard of. Plainly put, Luke’s Camaro looked like it drove off the set of Knight Rider, and in the car world it was a game changer.

  The beauty about being hormotional is you can lose your shit one minute and change your mind the next. That's how I got the Starship back.

  And while it took me a considerable amount of time to restore her the right way, neither of us rushed the process.

  You can’t fast track a classic. Or rather, I couldn’t.

  I wanted Luke’s Camaro to be perfect.

  When he came clean about how he had acquired the Starship, I couldn’t even be pissed about it because it brought us together. The look on his face, the joy in seeing the car slowly come together... I wanted Luke to flip over the finished product; I wanted my husband to be speechless.

  Which is why I waited to add the finishing touches until he was out of town fishing with Ram for the weekend. A trip I basically had to force him to take. My man didn't like being away from me for long periods of time. So, I used guilt and blow jobs until he caved. Luke went, but wouldn't stay gone a second longer than he had to.

  For two days straight, the guys and I lived and breathed this project only taking breaks to pee or sleep.

  Staring at it now, I had to admit we did a kick ass job.

  Shaking his head at the pin-striping across the back of the hatch, Lincoln said, “If it was anyone but Luke, I’d call him a pussy.”

  “Not to his face you wouldn’t,” Benz laughed.

  “This is what he’d want,” Diesel boomed, scaring the shit out of me.

  “I hope he likes it.” I smiled to at my guys, knowing he’ll love it.

  “Like what?” I heard from behind me, causing me to jump again.

  “Luke! Shit. You’re early!”

  Sensing my panic, the guys crowded the Camaro blocking Luke’s view. Unsure of what was happening, he dropped his bag, and narrowed his eyes at them. He took me into his arms. In my ear he whispered, “What did you do?”

  Giggling into his neck, I said, “See for yourself.”

  “Lizzy,” he groaned. “Did you mallet the fuck out of my Starship?”

  When the guys started laughing, so did I, and when Ram entered the garage he joined in. Because our son loved surprises as much as his dad did. Even when his dad refused to admit it. Throwing his arm over Luke’s shoulder, Ram said, “Kept him out of your hair as long as I could, Ma, but he was itching to get back. You guys done?”

  “You wanted me out of your hair?” Luke raised a brow at me.

  “Yep,” I confirmed with a smile. “But don’t get hormotional about it. I wanted to surprise you.”

  “I wasn’t getting—” he
started. “What kind of surprise?”

  “Guys,” I nodded for them to step aside. When Luke saw his car, I mean really saw it, I saw the tears.

  “You did this for me?” he grated out, careful to open the driver’s side door and look inside. Every last inch, down to the floating cassette player, was original, and I customized the interior just for him. “Holy shit,” he yelled out in excitement. “You even bought me an Iron Maiden tape?”

  Of course, that’s what he noticed...

  “She also repainted the fucking thing,” Lincoln added. “Tinted the goddamn windows, and chromed out your dual exhaust by hand. And you notice the fucking cassette tape.”

  If Luke and Lincoln hadn’t become as close as brothers, I would have piped up. However, they loved the hell out of each other and gave each other shit constantly. And I loved it.

  “I haven’t seen the exhaust yet, prick,” Luke fired back. When Ram’s fingers intertwined with mine, I looked up at our son and shared in his laughter.

  “Dad,” he said, grabbing Luke’s attention. “I think you missed something.”

  “What’s that, Ram?” he asked, folding out and coming to stand with us.

  We gave him time to figure it out. I squeezed Ram’s hand when Luke inhaled sharply. Stepping forward, he ran his hands over the words. I thanked God for my pacemaker because my heart was going crazy.

  Whipping around to face me, Luke advanced, dipped me in his arms while burying his face in my neck.

  Moments later, in a strangled voice, he whispered, “Lizzy.”

  Sensing this was a private moment, the guys and Ram saw themselves out, leaving us alone. Snuggled into my husband’s chest, I asked, “Do you like it?”

  Seeing nothing but me, he said, “I love it. I love you.”

  As close as two people could get while clothed, he silently traced his fingers over the words, . When he said nothing, I realized it was because he didn’t have the words.

  I’d done it. I’d rendered him speechless.

  Finally breaking away to look in my eyes, every ounce of love and affection Luke possessed was there for me to see.

  With my husband’s breath on my cheek and his fingers spanning my waist, I knew this was the oddest and possibly worst time to be thinking of Jon, but I couldn’t help it.

  For so long I was angry, hurt, and convinced losing Jon was permission to lose myself, too.

  That is, until Luke Temple stormed into my world, forcing me to see I had been waiting.

  To forgive.

  To move on.

  To trust.

  To fall in love again.

  And I knew, if Jon were still alive today, I would thank him for the role he played in bringing Luke to me.

  Because at nineteen, I was certain I knew what love was.

  But at forty-one, I found out what love is.

  It’s us; it’s Ram, Destiny, and LJ.

  My parents, the guys, and yes, even Jon.

  Love was even...letting go.

  Guiding me to the passenger side, Luke opened the door and said, “Climb in, baby.”

  Sliding onto the leather, I waited for Luke to fold in and with one hand on the wheel and the other over my heart, he started her up and pushed the cassette tape in.

  When Iron Maiden’s “Somewhere In Time” began to play, and Luke punched the gas, I don’t bother wiping the tears from my face. Because let’s face it, love was hormotional, and so was I.

  I Stop by Aaron LaCombe

  U+Ur Hand by P!nk

  Bring It On Home To Me by Sam Cooke

  Keep Me In Your Heart by Warren Zevon

  Somewhere In Time by Iron Maiden

  Come Back To Me by Janet Jackson

  Try by P!nk

  Can I Be Him by James Arthur

  Let You Go by Grace Potter

  Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck by Prong

  Bitch by Meredith Brooks

  Hot in Here by Nelly

  Let’s Get Physical by Olivia Newton-John

  Here Comes My Man by The Gaslight Anthem

  Tell Me It’s Real by K-Ci and Jojo

  Not Easy by Alex Da Kid

  I’m Into You by Ashley Tisdale

  Roots by In This Moment

  K.S. Adkins is a full-time everything. When I'm not wifing, mothering or being bossy, I'm reading, writing or shooting. A full-time realtor, lifelong Michigander and all around lover of all things guns and Detroit, I believe in freedom of foul language, gratuitous nudity, tattoos and mosh pits. I've recently taken up drinking wine and feel like I'm really making progress with it. I think my chances at finding a place within the Romance genre is 50/50, but I suck at numbers so what do I know?

  My stories are written with heavy dialogue and are Detroit-based. If you don't like heavy dialogue or Detroit, don't read my stories. My characters are typically dark and fairly fucked up so if you want sappy characters without issues, don't read my stories.

  I love violence, guns, blood, naughty words, awkward sex, rap, metal, and untraditional people. Every fight scene was tried and tested by me. I have the bruises to prove it too.

  I write romance, but my characters are not always romantic. Each is a work in progress. My stories are about strong women and the alphas who try to tame them but never do.

  At the end of the day, you may not like my stories, you may also think I suck as an author and that's okay, but I have to tell you, I had the best fucking time writing them and for me, that's what it's all about.

  I love new likes so hit me up on Facebook @ K.S. Adkins or Twitter @ Hoodwrites and let me know if you loved it or hated it. ♥