Beautiful Bride

by Tammy Falkner

  I pump inside her, and her mouth falls open. She squeezes me, and I know she’s close. I can tell by the hitch of her breath and the bow of her body, which I have come to know as well as I know my own.

  “Can you come for me?” I ask. I press her legs forward and go deeper, and she cries out.

  “Now,” she says, and her walls clamp down on me. I grow still, and enjoy the little flutters of her pussy around my length, and let her ride out the clitoral orgasm the vibrator just gave her. Then I spread her legs, put one foot on each of my shoulders, and I give her an orgasm of a different kind. Her nails rake down my back as I take her nipple into my mouth and suck it harshly, the way I know she likes. “Come, Matt,” she says.

  So I do. She’s so fucking wet and so fucking hot, and she’s mine. I ride out the orgasm, coming deep inside her, just the way I like it. I let her legs fall and drop my weight on top of her. She brushes my hair back behind my ears. “I love you,” she says, looking into my eyes.

  I kiss her quickly on the lips. “You satisfied for now?”

  She grins. “It’ll do for now.”

  We learned when she was pregnant with the twins that she’s a horny pregnant lady.

  “Sorry I had to use you so shamelessly,” she says. She makes a tsk-ing sound with her teeth. “Such a tough life you have,” she teases.

  “Making my wife come. It’s so difficult for me.” I pretend to be tired, and drop down onto the bed beside her.

  She shoves my shoulder and stretches, yawning.

  I pick up the vibrator she dropped and wipe it on the sheets, and then drop it into the drawer. “You want to finish your nap?”

  She shakes her head and gets up. She cleans up really quickly in the bathroom and gets dressed. Then she goes into the twins’ room and comes back with one of them on each hip. “We should start dinner.”

  “Dinner can wait.” I brush her hair back from her forehead. “You’re pregnant. You get a pass.”

  “I can’t believe you told them all around the campfire. You can’t keep a secret for shit.”

  I laugh. I can’t keep anything from my brothers. It was hard enough waiting until the three-month point to tell. I couldn’t wait any longer. “They didn’t seem surprised.”

  “That you can’t keep a secret? I should think not.”

  She leans Matty toward me and I take him from her. “Have you seen Emily and Logan?” I ask.

  “Em is working on a present for Pete and Reagan,” Sky says.

  “What kind of present?”

  “The good kind.” She grins. “I heard a little of it this morning. It’s really wonderful.”

  “For after the wedding?”

  She shrugs. “I guess so.”

  “When is the wedding?” I ask. It was supposed to be yesterday, but it didn’t happen, for good reason.

  “Tomorrow morning,” she says. “Sam has to go back for training tomorrow night.”

  “Already?” We don’t see nearly enough of him now that he’s playing pro ball.

  She shrugs again. “He had to stretch it out to get permission to stay this long.”

  I lean in to her and kiss her. Hoppy bounces and pats my cheek, but I don’t stop kissing Sky. When I finally lift my head, I tell Hoppy, “Kisses are good. That’s how you got here.” She hops some more and squeals.

  “I love you,” Sky says to me. Then she tosses Hoppy onto the bed and dives down to blow on her belly. I do the same with Matty, and within seconds we have two happy, laughing babies on the bed. She looks over at me, and she’s so fucking perfect that my heart clenches. The baby monitor goes off, and I hear PJ making noises, so I go and get him. When you already have five, soon to be six, what’s one more?

  It’s heaven, that’s what it is.

  Emily

  “I need a word that rhymes with forever,” I say as I drag my pick down my guitar strings. Logan sits across from me, alternating between writing the words of the song I’m working on and drawing on a piece of paper with a pencil. He looks up at me and I know he didn’t hear what I said. I nudge him with my toe. “I need a word that rhymes with forever,” I say again.

  His chest rumbles. “You’re asking the deaf guy for a rhyming word?” He chuckles. “Funny.”

  I nudge him with my toe again. “I’m being serious. Give me a word.”

  “Never. Sever. Clever.”

  “Says the deaf guy,” I tell him, rolling my eyes. I know he’s capable of just about anything he wants to do. He devours books like they’re water. His vocabulary is so much better than mine.

  Kit walks over to him and holds out a block. She babbles at him and he looks up at me. “What did she say?”

  “Ma ma ma ma,” I say. He can’t read her lips. It’s hard for him, not knowing what sounds are coming out of her mouth. She’s not saying words yet, but she’s definitely making noises.

  “Da da da da da da,” he prompts, talking to her. She grins at him and stuffs the block into the block sorter. He claps his hands when she does it right, and she does a little dance. “Did she say it?” he asks me.

  I shake my head.

  He gets up and comes to join me on the bed. “What does it sound like when she laughs?” he asks. He looks at me closely, and my heart turns over. He asks me this all the time, and I try to tell him, making adjustments for the changes in her as she grows. Her giggle changes every day. Everything about her changes, and the sounds she makes are the only things he misses. I set my guitar to the side.

  “It’s loud and obnoxious, just like you,” I say. I shove his shoulder and he rolls me under him, tickling me as he holds me down. “Stop!” I squeal. He can’t hear me, but I know he can feel the rush of my breath by his ear and the vibration of my voice in my throat. He feels it all, but he can’t hear it.

  “I’ll give you loud and obnoxious,” he growls playfully, and then he kisses me. He lifts his head and looks at my face. “You were kind of loud last night,” he says. “Sam was complaining about it this morning.”

  “You should have told me!”

  “How would I know how loud you are?” he asks, grinning. He points to his ears. “Deaf guy.”

  I shove his shoulder and he sits up. “I want to talk to you about something important,” I say.

  He sits up, his brow furrowing. “Okay,” he says slowly.

  I sign while I talk to him. “Do you remember right after she was born, when you and I talked about a cochlear implant?”

  He freezes, his features going hard immediately, and I’m sorry I brought it up. When he first mentioned it to me, I was completely against it. I was determined that there was nothing wrong with him, that his hearing didn’t matter, just like my dyslexia didn’t matter. But it does. It matters every time he asks me to describe her laugh, or when he can’t hear her call him. When she cries in the night and his only indication of it is a flashing light and vibration under his pillow. It matters so much.

  I swallow past the lump in my throat and blink back the tears that suddenly fill my eyes. I didn’t think I’d be so emotional when I talked to him about this. But I am.

  “If there was a procedure to fix my dyslexia, would you want me to have it?” I ask.

  “Would you?” He stares into my face, watching closely.

  A tear falls over my lashes and he swipes it away with the pad of his thumb.

  “Why are you crying?” he asks. “I told you I don’t need surgery.”

  “Answer my question.”

  “You want to know if I would fix your dyslexia?”

  “Yes.”

  He looks away, pulling his lip piercing into his mouth to play with it. “Yes, I would.”

  A sob fills my chest, and I choke it back. “Why?”

  “Because…” He stops. He looks everywhere but at me. “Because I want you to have everything. I want you to be able to read street signs and send text messages and read menus. I want all that for you.”

  I swallow. “And I want all that for you.”

 
He glares at me. “I can do all those things.”

  “But you can’t hear her laugh. You can’t hear her babble words at you. You can’t hear her cry.” I take his hands in mine. “I want all those things for you.”

  He sucks in a breath and holds it. “I don’t know.”

  “I do know. I made an appointment for you when we go back.”

  He stares at me. He’s not angry, and there’s a glimmer in his eye, the one I’d hoped for. “Are you sure?” he asks.

  “I’m positive. If you want it.”

  “I want it,” he blurts out. Then he grins. “I want it.”

  “Don’t do it for me, because I don’t need it.”

  He nods. “I know you don’t.” He looks at our daughter. “But she does.”

  “She doesn’t. She’d be fine as things are.”

  “I need it,” he says.

  “Okay,” I say. I hold his face in my hands and stare into those blue eyes. He holds my heart and soul. He has, ever since I met him. He always will.

  “Don’t tell anyone, okay?” he says.

  I nod. “Okay.”

  “Just us.”

  “Okay.”

  He passes my guitar to me. “Finish your song for Pete and Reagan.”

  He goes and sits on the floor with our daughter, saying over and over, “Da da da da da da.” She doesn’t say it back. Yet.

  Reagan

  I twist my ring on my finger as I walk back down the beach. I took a walk down to the lighthouse by myself, because I needed a few minutes to collect my thoughts. It’s beautiful here. The wind lifts my hair and my spirits.

  “Reagan!” I hear from down the beach. I look up and see my mom jogging toward me. She looks like me, her limbs long and lanky, her hair hanging down over her shoulders. She’s not wearing any makeup and I can tell she has been in the sun today. “I wanted to talk to you,” she says, her breathing heavy from her run up the beach.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask. “Where’s Dad?”

  She grins. “He went pier fishing with Pete and Lincoln.”

  I laugh. I can just imagine how that’s going to go, with Pete having to put up with both my dad and my little brother.

  “What you did, giving Patty and John your wedding…” she says. She looks into my eyes. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “It was beautiful, wasn’t it?” I think back on the morning. My dress was too big for her. My flowers were too plain. But it was still wonderful.

  “Gorgeous.” She walks quietly. “So,” she finally says.

  “So?”

  “So, about your own wedding.”

  “Oh yeah. That.” I laugh. “Tomorrow morning. I’m so sorry you guys came all this way and then we had to put it off.”

  “Oh, I’m not worried about that. I just wanted to be sure…” Her voice trails off.

  “Of?” I smile at her.

  “Nothing.” She smiles back, and unsticks a piece of hair from my lip.

  “Say it.”

  “I just wanted to be sure you’re not having second thoughts.”

  “About the wedding?”

  She nods.

  “No, no second thoughts.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I’m positive. I don’t doubt my decision to marry Pete at all. Not for a second. “One hundred percent.”

  “Then why do I feel like you’re hesitating? You seemed relieved when Patty and John took your wedding over.”

  I laugh. “Oh, I was.”

  “I knew something was wrong!” she cries. “Are you and Pete having problems?”

  I shake my head. “No, nothing like that. I’d planned a surprise for Pete, but then the flight got cancelled. They’re coming in today.”

  “They who?” she asks.

  “Pete’s foundlings. Gonzo and Edward. And Edward’s little sister. And Henry is flying with them. Can’t get married without them. They’re like family.”

  “Oh, Reagan,” she says.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I wish I could claim that I had some part in the wonderful woman you turned out to be, but I’m afraid that’s all you.” She sniffles.

  “Mom,” I whine. She laughs at me.

  “What are you going to wear tomorrow?” she asks.

  “I have no idea.” I gave Patty my fancy dress, which didn’t really fit me anyway.

  “Do you want to go shopping?” she asks. “Then we can go out for drinks, maybe?” She lifts her brow.

  “Sure.”

  When we get back to the house, the sun is setting and everyone is in the kitchen. And I do mean everyone.

  I lean over toward Friday. “So, my mom wants to go out for shopping and drinks. Do you want to go?”

  She passes PJ to Paul and nods. “Do you think Sky and Emily might want to go too?”

  She rounds everyone up and we go shopping. I get a flirty short white dress that will be perfect for my wedding.

  My phone rings. I pull it from my pocket.

  “What did you do, princess?” Pete barks in my ear, but I can hear the laughter in his voice.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I say, as Mom pays the bill for my dress.

  “Gonzo just rolled up with Edward’s sister on his lap, and Edward is shooting knives at him with his eyes, and Henry just took your dad to go surf fishing.”

  “Oh, they’re here! I’m so glad they made it!”

  “I can’t believe you invited them.”

  I heave a sigh. “They’re family, Pete.”

  “They don’t bother you, princess? They’re not around enough already?”

  “Never,” I say, and I mean it.

  I can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” I tell him.

  ***

  Friday giggles from the back of the van, and someone else burps. I think it might have been my mom, which makes Friday laugh so hard she snorts, and then that starts her up all over again.

  “Oh my God, Matt is going to kill me,” Sky says from her spot in the driver’s seat. “I left with a bunch of old married ladies, and I’m coming back with a bunch of drunks.”

  Mom burps again, and even I have to laugh.

  Sky was designated driver tonight, since she’s pregnant. She drank water all night. All night is a serious overstatement. It took exactly one hour for everyone to get shit-faced. We pull up in the driveway of the beach house and Sky calls someone. “Can you come and help me get the drunks out of the car?” she says.

  “I am not drunk!” I yell, and then I wince because my head hurts. I have had way too much to drink.

  “That’s why I had to bribe you to get you in the car.”

  Mom touches the top of my head from her seat behind me. But it’s more like she clunks me on the top of the head. “You are so drunk, darling,” she says. “So am I. I hope your father is still awake because I plan to rock his world.”

  “Eww!” I say. “TMI!”

  She laughs. “You’re about to be an old married lady, Reagan. Get over it.”

  I am about to be an old married lady. Pete’s old married lady.

  Speaking of whom, the van door slides open and all the Reed men look inside, grins on their faces. “Oh, holy hell,” Logan says. “What did you do to my wife?” He pulls Emily’s arm because she’s closest to the door, and hoists her over his shoulder.

  “You could have just carried me like a gentleman!” she squeals. He smacks her on the ass and she laughs.

  “Good night, all!” he calls out.

  Next is Friday, and she’s still giggling. She says loudly, “I think I need you to help me empty my boobs, Paul.” She grabs her boobs and all the other men look away. “Did you give PJ a bottle?”

  “I gave PJ a bottle,” he says. He looks down at her boobs, which seem to have her worried for some reason. “And I’ll take care of your boobs.” He laughs.

  “I knew you would.” She giggles again and he puts his arm around her and leads her into
the house.

  Dad pulls Mom out next, and she stands there glaring at him. “Be a gentleman and toss me over your shoulder, would you?”

  He bends at the waist and hitches her over, and she laughs and smacks his ass. “Behave!” he says, and he pinches her bottom. His face is bright red.

  “’Night, Reagan!” Mom calls.

  “’Night, Mom!” I yell back.

  Pete winces.

  “Oops!” I laugh. “Was I too loud?”

  “Never.” Pete grunts as he sweeps me into his arms.

  “Don’t move so fast!” I say. Then I slap his arms so I can get him to put me down, and I promptly throw up in the bushes.

  “Oh, no,” Sky says. “Didn’t mean for that to happen.”

  “It’s okay,” Pete says, and he hoists me up so I can wrap my legs around his waist. He squeezes my bottom as he walks us by everyone, and I tuck my face into his shoulder.

  Matt puts his arm around Sky and I hear him say, “You sober?”

  “As a judge,” she says.

  “Good,” he replies. “Because it looks like I’m the only one who is going to get laid tonight.”

  Sky kisses him and he grins.

  Pete walks us down the hallway and into our room. He stops in front of our bathroom sink and sets me down. He puts toothpaste on a toothbrush and holds it out to me. “Can you do it by yourself?” he asks.

  I nod my head.

  “Good.” I hear him rumble in the drawers and he comes back with one of his T-shirts. He helps me change clothes.

  “So, you want to get lucky?” I ask. I stumble when I try to step toward him.

  “Tempting,” he says. He laughs and pulls me to the bed by my fingertips. I flop back onto my pillow. “Did you have fun?”

  I nod, but that makes my head hurt. Pete goes and gets a damp washcloth and places it on his forehead.

  “I think that’s supposed to go on my forehead,” I say.

  “Oh, yeah.” He laughs and throws it over my face. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this drunk.”

  “I know, right?” I sigh.

  “Since you’re drunk, can I ask you something?”

  I hold up a finger to stop him. “I have a feeling I should say no to that. But I can’t figure out why.”