by HJ Bellus
“Selfie before Elvis dry humps us into our renewed vows,” Bentley announces.
He holds up his phone and snaps several shots of us. For the last one, he makes sure plenty of cleavage is up and out, then kisses my cheek, and snaps the final picture.
It only takes two steps down the aisle before I realize laughing during this ceremony will be inevitable as the glowing Elvis stands at the end next to Bentley. I don’t even try to hide the giggles as the ridiculous ceremony goes on. And if I never see an Elvis impersonator or the act of dry humping air again, I’ll be a happy girl.
Bentley, of course, paid for the full meal deal that included a photo session in front of a hideous backdrop. I soaked up the entire experience, flashing grill and all. We decide not to change and make it make down to the strip in our ceremony clothes. The Uber driver didn’t even flinch. I guess the saying is true, What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas.
Bentley checked in with Coy and then it was to our room. Our clothes flew, and we consummated our renewal. I’m not sure that’s even a thing, but we did it with a bang. My head rests on his heaving chest. Our bodies are exhausted and coated with a thin layer of sweat.
“What made you want to do that today?”
He’s quiet for a long time before answering. He clears his throat before speaking. “Burnett.”
“Baby.” I prop up on an elbow. “You don’t have to.”
Even though it’s dark in the room with a sliver of moonlight from outside peeking in, I can see the shimmer pooling in his eyes.
“No, it’s fine. You know he was a funny jackass, but in love with his high school sweetheart. He had big plans of taking her to Vegas and marrying her the moment he got home.” He throws his arm over his forehead. “The ass would walk around base camp, singing Elvis songs non-stop. He never made it back.”
I kiss up and down Bentley’s jawline, hoping to ease up some of the pain he’s feeling. He’s kept the ugly side of deployment to a minimum, only sharing bits and pieces, but I’m not an idiot and know he protects me.
“You’re living it for him,” I whisper.
He nods and clears his throat one more time. I’m able to catch one of his tears with the pad of my thumb before it hits the pillow.
“Lost a lot of brothers over there and made a promise to them and myself that I’ll never take another day for granted. I want to do it all and all with you.”
This time it’s me rolling up on top of him. My body is covering his, lining us up perfectly.
“I’ll renew our vows anywhere and anytime you want, baby.”
Chapter 7
“Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead.” -Oscar Wilde
“I’ll put one hundred dollars down they go balls to the wall.” I glance over to Bentley. It’s been one full year since I became his wife, and he still takes my breath away. He keeps his vision on the road ahead of us, giving me time to admire his sexy as hell profile.
“Naw, I say a family barbecue with lots of desserts.” He pulls down his aviators and sends me a quick wink before focusing back on the road. “And there better be chocolate cake.”
“Mmmmm. Chocolate cake. I do hope for that.” I squeeze his hand resting on top of my thigh. Like years ago in high school, we are in the same truck and same seats. I still ride smack dab in the center. I often think what we’ll do when a baby comes along. Knowing Bentley, he’ll take care of it and still make me feel like his queen while being the best daddy ever.
Thoughts of a baby make my stomach spin. The butterflies are real this time. I’m three weeks late. I’ve been late before, rushed out to the store to buy pregnancy tests to only be disappointed. It’s a tender topic for us. Bentley’s ready to go to the doctor to find out answers. We have plenty of sex on a daily basis and have toyed with counting the days for the best ovulation.
None of our family understands our concerns. They claim we are too young and all that other shit. I’m nearing twenty-three and was having unprotected sex before we were married…I know something isn’t right.
But three weeks late is the biggest sliver of hope we’ve had yet. I’m determined to give it one more week before taking a test, and even then I feel like I may be jinxing it.
“Where did you go there on me?” Bentley kills the engine of his truck and leans over, running his nose up and down my jawline.
“Just thinking about work,” I lie. I never lie to Bentley, but this is different.
“The big Anderson Ranch sale?”
I nod. Because yes, that’s weighing heavy on my mind, too, just not in the forefront. The papers are in the final stage, and with this sale, it will set us up for a full year off the commissions.
“They’re complete idiots if they don’t buy from you.” He forces me to look at him. His lips crush to mine. When he’s done kissing the hell out of me, he whispers into my lips. “You’ve got the deal.”
He’s so sure of himself. Bentley has no idea if the deal is going to go through or not, but it’s his demanding reassurance that calms me on that front. The other not so much. I manage to smile against his lips, picturing his face the day I tell him we are pregnant.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He swings open the driver’s side door, keeping his gaze on me. “Now, let’s go see if this shin-dig has any chocolate cake.”
The country club is packed. I was so right and should’ve bet a lot of money and favors on this one. Our moms did, in fact, go balls to the wall with this party. As much as this scene isn’t my style, it’s well needed. If it were up to me, Bentley and I would’ve enjoyed a quiet evening at the pond. Only the two of us.
Tensions have been high the past couple of weeks with threats of another deployment. To me, I consider them a threat, but that’s not how Bentley views it. It’s the one thing we always fight about if we allow ourselves to. It’s inevitable but doesn’t make it any easier to process and accept. I wish I had his courage. A night out with our family and friends is what we need.
We are swarmed by those same family and friends in the blink of an eye. It takes me right back to our wedding night. I’ve always hated sharing my Bentley. He keeps my hand laced in his as we weave through the crowd. As much as I hate to, I let go of his hand and make small talk with some clients of mine. It’s an empowering feeling knowing they want to speak to me and respect me as a realtor. I’m the star of the show with Bentley cheering me on from the grandstands.
I spy Papa Wally sitting at a table all by himself and excuse myself from the current conversation. Each day the years of wear and tear on my Papa becomes more and more evident. He’s always been healthy as a horse, but he’s tired.
“Papa.” I bend down and kiss his cheek.
His eyes light up, and his familiar, gentle smile wraps around me like a hug.
“No white dress?” He grins. “Surprised your momma didn’t force you to wear it.”
“Trust me, she tried.” I fall into the chair next to him and throw one of my legs up on the table. “Wore the boots.”
“Atta girl.” His husky chuckle warms my soul. “Your momma will kick your ass if she sees you sitting like that.”
“What?” I look down. “I’m wearing skinny jeans and not a skirt.”
He shakes his head. “I swear since the day you were born, you were determined to test your mother’s patience on a daily basis.”
“Someone’s gotta do it.” I shrug.
It hits me hard when no laughter escapes Papa Wally. There are bags and dark lines under his eyes. His wrinkles are more pronounced. My favorite man isn’t going to be here forever. I reach over and grab his hand. Those hands that have endured so many years of hard work, love, joy, and heartache and they’re still silky smooth between the wrinkles. This man taught me what life is all about.
“You busy in the morning?” I ask him.
He shakes his head.
“Wanna go fishing?”
“Do you even have to ask?
” He flashes me a smile. It takes me right back to my childhood.
I lay my head on his shoulder and study the crowd from the corner table. There’s laughter, conversation, and lots of booze going down. My heart sings observing it all by the side of Papa Wally. Bentley soon joins us with two plates of food. One is heaping, damn near spilling over. I know it’s ours. The other one has ribs, mashed potatoes, and vegetables. It’s the one he places in front of Papa Wally.
“Thank you,” I whisper and kiss his cheek once he’s settled into the seat next to me.
“You okay, Birdie?” Concern plays out across his face.
“I am now.” I smile and kiss him.
I’ve become well adapted to getting my fair share of food knowing Bentley will devour the rest of it. I moan when I sink my teeth into one of the ribs. The best around and I know right away Dad cooked them. It’s his specialty and rare because of his rigorous work schedule.
“Making me jealous of a piece of meat,” Bentley whispers into my ear.
“You should be. I’d leave you for these.” I take another bite, cleaning the rib right down to the bone.
“You’re killing me right now for so many reasons,” he growls.
I continue to clean the already meatless bone in a fashion that’s not acceptable at the dinner table. Bentley buries his face in the palm of his hands, and Papa Wally roars in laughter. Another memory to store away in my treasure chest along with a thousand other cherished memories with these two men.
“Marlee Jo!” We all glance up to see Mom with her hands planted on her hips and a scowl on her face. “You are sucking on a bone with barbecue sauce all over your face.”
“Baby, let it go.” Dad wraps his arms around her middle from the back. “She’s almost twenty-three years old and isn’t going to change.”
“I hired a professional photographer, and you are…” She falters, stumbling over her words, struggling to get the next one out. She gives up before erupting into laughter. “I can’t wait until you have a little one giving you as much hell as you have given me.”
They sit down at our table, and we all dive into conversation with me being the focal point. Not something you’d typically brag about, but Mom loves to go on about me and how I drive her insane. Each word is spoken with deep and true love, making it a perfect night.
The only chocolate cake enjoyed was the top tier of our wedding cake from a year ago. It was stale, dry, and freezer burned. The worst shit I’ve ever tasted, but at the same time the best ever. Bentley made it memorable and the best cake ever later that night at home.
8
“We are made of all those who have built and broke us.” –Atticus
“Smells amazing.” Arms wrap low around my waist, my head tilts on automatic, and searing kisses pepper my neck.
I’m able to get out a light moan while continuing to chop up vegetables.
“What are you cooking?”
“Grilled salmon, twice baked potatoes, and a green salad.”
“And?”
“Brownies and vanilla ice cream for dessert.”
“And?”
“Hefeweizen beer for the guys and raspberry beer for us girls.”
“And?”
“Babe!” I set down the knife, frustrated.
I’m whirled around in his arms until our chests are pressed together. Bentley reaches down, palming my ass, pulling me up to him. I wrap my legs around his waist, hooking my ankles above his perfect ass.
“And?” He quirks an eyebrow.
I run my hands up and down his muscular neck, missing his mullet from years ago. I’d give anything to be thrown back to our high school years where we were carefree with no worries of deployment, having a baby, or bills. Our only concern back then was spending every single second together embraced in each other’s arms.
“That’s it,” I reply.
“You’re missing something.”
I cock my head to the side, having no clue where this is leading. It only takes a few beats until I understand right where it’s heading. Bentley whirls around, takes two steps, and then my back hits the cold surface of our sturdy dark cherry walnut dining table. He lays me down with ease and then steps back. I perch up on my elbows, watching him strip down. His fingers are steady as he unbuttons his shirt. It’s slow and seductive, and I feel myself heat up for him with the simple action. My shorts and panties slide down my legs and Bentley’s knuckles graze my skin.
His body covers mine and all thoughts of cooking timers and guests coming over disappear. The table creaks as our bodies connect. His lips are on mine, and his hands go to my hair as he evaporates every single one of my thoughts and worries.
“This is what I was asking for.” His brows scrunch up as he works in and out of me. “It’s all I need every single damn day.”
“Faster,” I beg. My hands lace around his neck, pulling him closer. My legs wrap around his waist, grinding up against him.
His teeth sink down on his bottom lip, and it’s my final undoing. I come undone around him. He follows, collapsing down on me.
“You’re a very naughty boy.” I run my hand up and down his back.
The sound of a truck roaring down our lane snaps us both back to reality.
“Shit,” he hisses, pulling me up as he stands up.
He races to the guest bathroom with me in his arms. We clean up and throw on clothes like teenagers who’ve been busted by their parents. We erupt into a fit of laughter when I pull on his boxers not realizing it, and he’s left standing with lace panties dangling off his fingertip.
“Honey, I’m home.” Coy’s voice echoes throughout the house.
“Shit,” I hiss, pulling off Bentley’s boxers. “Bentley, do something.”
The panic in my voice cannot be masked. Bentley, on the other hand, laughs. All the while still dangling my lace panties off one of his fingers. I snatch them from him and give him my best stern look without cracking a grin.
“You better get your ass dressed and get out there right now.” I slip into my panties as fast as possible, catching my heel in one of the holes and toppling forward, landing face first right where Bentley wants to keep me all night, which makes Bentley’s entire body vibrate from his laughter.
I reach around and slap his ass so hard it leaves my palm stinging. I should know better by now because this will only fuel his fire. I look up at him, pleading for help and for him to get his ass in gear to cover up our sexcapades. He gets my drift and begins dressing with ease. How the man can make it seem so easy to slip on all of his clothes, brush his hand over his hair, and walk out of the bathroom is beyond me.
I take my time making sure my shirt is forward and my pants are zipped. Everything was perfect for tonight before Bentley distracted me. I might add it was one of the best distractions to come my way, but I won’t spill that secret. Lord knows, Bentley Foster doesn’t need an ego booster.
Maddie and Coy’s voices seep into the bathroom from the kitchen, and I know Bentley has them distracted. I pull up my hair, placing it back into a sloppy bun, making sure all the stray hairs are smoothed back. Even though it looks like nothing happened, I guarantee the look on my face when I walk out there will give it all away.
When I round the corner, Maddie and Coy are sitting at the dining room table with the appetizers they brought. I cringe, knowing what we did on that table and can’t seem to break my stare on Maddie’s palms face down on the table. I send Bentley a sideways stare, and he shrugs.
I guess you can’t have it all; at least we got covered up and out of the danger zone before our guests arrived. Bentley winks at me. There’s nothing we can do about it, and this will no doubt be one of our best inside jokes to date.
“What did you bring for appetizers, Maddie?” Bentley leans over the tray of food in the center of the table we banged on, eyeing each of them.
Maddie, being her quaint little self, gives a shrug and then offers up all the delicious appetizers she brought. The woman can cook
like no other. I’m not a slob when it comes to ninja skills in the kitchen, but Maddie? Now that girl has it down. It doesn’t even offend me anymore when Bentley begs to go to their place for dinner instead of ours.
Bentley pops an appetizer in his mouth and then stares over at me, cocking an eyebrow up. “Very delicious. Must be something with this table.”
Coy and Maddie both stare at Bentley with a questioning stare, silently wondering what in the hell he’s talking about. I can’t help the little smirk that plays out on my face and the giggle that escapes. He’s quite the bragger when it comes to me and would have no problem spilling the beans. I’m forced to step in before that happens.
“I’m grilling salmon, have twice baked potatoes, and a green salad for dinner. It will be ready in about fifteen minutes.”
Coy perks up at that announcement, super excited about what’s for dinner.
“You catch those fish you cooking, woman?”
I have to laugh at his antics because only Coy could get away with calling me woman and not getting slapped upside the head. Okay, Bentley could, too, but he owns my heart and soul.
I stand up tall, beaming like a child on Christmas morning and answer him. “Yep. Papa Wally and I’ve been fishing every morning since our anniversary party. We’ve been catching some big ones.”
Maddie’s shoulders sag in defeat because I’ve confided in her with all my worries about Papa’s health and the men at the table don’t seem to catch on. Coy pipes right back up super excited for dinner.
“That Papa Wally, he’s the best fisherman in the state; ain’t nobody going to deny that. Just glad he could teach you some of your tricks.”
This time I do smack Coy upside the head for his comment because by damn Papa Wally did teach me everything, but I’ll stand next to any man claiming to be the best fisherman around.
