Way To My Heart

by Barbara C. Doyle

  Tony laughed. “Food is the best way to get a parent’s approval. I should have thought of that when I first met Steve and Elena.”

  Iris elbowed his ribcage. “Please. You kissed their asses night and day to take me out. You washed my father’s car.”

  “He said he needed it cleaned.”

  “He was using you,” she pointed out.

  “Well, I got what I wanted.”

  Iris’s grin was amused as she snuggled into Tony’s side.

  “Anyway, we should get going,” Iris declared, taking Max from Caleb. Andy rubbed his eyes as Tony picked him up.

  We followed them to the door, passing them their bags since their hands were full with the boys. Iris gave me one last devious grin before she whispered, “I still think you two would make cute babies. Think about that before he wraps it.”

  Oh, dear lord.

  Caleb’s shoulders shook in silent laughter, while my body heated like I’d just walked straight into a fire.

  I glared at Iris as I shut the door behind them, turning to face Caleb. Jabbing his shoulder, I stated, “Don’t even think about.”

  “We would make adorable babies.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Not for a long time.”

  He prowled toward me, backing me into the door until I was trapped between him and the wood behind me. His arms went on either side of my head, propping him up, so there was little space separating our bodies. He still smelled like hickory smoke and charcoal, which made me hungry in an entirely different way.

  My palms rested on his lower stomach, feeling the hard muscles tighten with the contact. Slowly, I moved upward, noting every dip and curve of his abs. I stopped at his pecks, watching him watch me with cloudy eyes.

  His voice was husky, when he said, “I think we need to practice. You know, to get us ready for when we are going to have adorable babies.”

  Normally, the thought of having kids terrified me. Knowing I’d be responsible for a helpless human being was scary. But with Caleb around? It sounded more like a dream than nightmare.

  My arms found their way around his neck. “I did hear that practice makes perfect,” I agreed, sucking in a breath when he pressed his front hard against me.

  “That should be in your future lesson plans,” he mused, bowing his head and taking my lips with his.

  The kiss started out slow and sensual, our grip on each other tight like letting go was impossible. But when I shifted my lower body to meet his more aggressively, his growl vibrated through me as he lifted me up.

  Locking my ankles around his back, he walked us through the house until we got to the back bedroom. He laid me down and crawled over my body, pinning my wrists above my head.

  My chest rose fast as I stared at him, watching the way he loved me with his eyes as he studied every single feature and flaw that I tried hiding from him. He made them feel like the best parts of me.

  “Did I mention that I love you?” he asked, kissing one side of my face, then the other.

  I bit down on my bottom lip, trying to get him to let go of my wrists, so I could touch him.

  “Mhm.” Using my hips, I arched up, so my pelvis met his. He closed his eyes for a second and then trailed his hands down my arms until they were at the sides of my body.

  Finally having control of my hands, I reached out to yank on his shirt. When he realized what I was trying to do, he sat back and pulled it over his head in one fluid movement.

  I laid their numb over the contours of his stomach, completely amazed by what I saw. It made me realize that my body looked nothing like that.

  He reached out, brushing my cheek. “Are you okay? You look a little scared.”

  “I…”

  I couldn’t hear my own thoughts over my galloping heart. I was hyperaware of all the extra padding he hadn’t seen yet. Laying flat didn’t make it as noticeable, but what if he wanted me on top? And if we rolled around, he’d see the extra skin on my tummy move in ways that was so not sexy.

  “Paisley?”

  I tried pushing off the anxiety, drawing him down by his biceps. I initiated the kiss, trying not to think about what came next. It took him a moment before his body settled over mine, his tongue tangling with mine and groin rolling into me.

  I sucked in a breath over the sensation of his weight on top of me, letting the moment take over my thoughts. But when his hands slid under my shirt, pushing it up my stomach, I completely freaked out.

  “Groceries!” I blurted, flailing under him.

  His hand stopped immediately right above my belly button, his eyes moving toward my face as he studied my insanity.

  I pushed on his chest and crawled out ungracefully from under him. “Y-yeah. I just remembered that I don’t have any food. And proper nutrition is important, especially salad.”

  Oh my god, there was not shutting me up.

  He sat up, palming his jaw. “Salad, huh?”

  I gulped. “Greens are important, you know.”

  He nodded along.

  “S-spinach the most. Because…muscles.”

  I shook my head, turning away from his shirtless body. Did he even have an ounce of body fat on him? It seemed highly unfair considering all the food I’d seen him eat today.

  How could men eat their body weight in red meat and beer and not gain a pound, while women breathed near a carbohydrate and had to buy pants in the next size up?

  The bed creaked under his weight, causing me to glance back at him. He drew in his bottom lip with his front teeth, suppressing his amusement. How could he think my loony-tune outburst was funny? I’d just stopped us having sex by blabbering on about the importance of a balanced freaking diet!

  “Spinach did work for Popeye,” he agreed casually, sitting on the edge of the mattress. “I, myself, have always been more of a lettuce guy.”

  He thought I was crazy. He had to!

  “Want to tell me what this is really about?”

  My lips parted, and then closed.

  He held open his arms, waiting for me to walk into them. “This isn’t about groceries or salad or spinach. You’ve got to be honest with me, Paisley.”

  “Maybe I am being honest,” I mumbled.

  “About spinach?”

  I nodded silently.

  He leaned forward, pulling me in until I stumbled onto his lap. “So, this has nothing to do with the fact that you’re a virgin?”

  I froze.

  Did he just call me out on my chastity? Was my damn belt showing? I looked down to see if it was visible.

  He rubbed my lower back. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. Okay? I can wait. I want you to be sure about this.”

  Why was I even surprised he knew? Not only had I just made a fool out of myself, but I was open about my lack of experience with guys in the past. While I hadn’t come out and admitted that I’d never slept with them, it was probably his first assumption.

  I probably had ‘twenty-three year old virgin’ written in marker across my forehead this entire time.

  “It isn’t just that,” I finally told him. I tried to sit still and look him in the eyes, because he was right. We needed to be open with each other now more than ever. “I know you say I’m beautiful, but I don’t want you looking at my body and being disgusted or something. I don’t look like you.”

  “Well, I’m not into dudes, so...”

  I glared at him. “You know what I mean.”

  He sighed. “You know what I fucking love about you? Everything, Paisley. I love your heart of gold, your sarcasm, and how much you care about your cat. I love your curves, your hips, your ass—” He bit down on his lip in silent prayer. “Yeah, I really love your ass. It nearly killed me not to touch it when your dad was around.”

  I shook my head, laughing at what Dad’s face would have morphed into if he’d witnessed me being groped. Poor guy would have a heart attack.

  “That,” he whispered, brushing his thumb against his lip. “I love your laugh. I wish you�
�d do it more often. I hate knowing that you don’t like your body, but I can love it enough for the both of us.”

  My heart had calmed down enough where I wasn’t at risk for bolting out the bathroom window. Or, you know, going into cardiac arrest.

  I’d hated my body so much before because I didn’t think anybody else loved it. There were always girls skinnier and prettier than me who wound up with boys who loved giving them attention. Fraternity boys always found themselves with sorority girls, the active men met their active women—they all made sense.

  Caleb’s hard body to my soft?

  I never would have thought it made sense, but throwing away preconceived notions I held onto made me stop being afraid of my own appearance.

  If I let anyone in the past use my body to be like other girls—losing my virginity like it was a burden and accepting that I was only worth a random hookup—then I would probably hate myself ten times worse than I did now.

  Caleb made me feel like I was worth it.

  Loved.

  Cherished.

  God, I loved this man.

  Taking a deep breath, I wrapped my arms around Caleb, brushing our lips together feverishly. Resting my forehead against his, I whispered, “Show me how much you love me?”

  He groaned into my mouth as I kissed him again, pulling me over him as he laid back. I squeaked when he flipped us over, so I was on my back again, his hands stopping at the bottom of my shirt.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I love you. I’m sure of that.”

  Caleb slowly lifted my sweater over my head, kissing every piece of my stomach from the waistband of my jeans to the valley between my breasts. His hands slowly traveled down the sides of my legs, the heat from his hands loosening up my tense muscles.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered every time a new piece of clothing came off.

  Jeans.

  Bra.

  Panties…which may have had rainbow kittens printed on them.

  When I saw how hungry he looked with me spread out before him, I no longer felt self-conscious. It gave me the courage to sit up and unbutton his jeans, sliding them down his muscled thighs until he stood up and let them drop.

  His black boxer briefs were tented in the front by his impressive length, making me feel like a goddess knowing I was the cause. And when the tight material joined his jeans on the floor…

  “Oh my god,” I breathed.

  He laughed. “He won’t bite.”

  I covered my face. The logistics of where that needed to fit hurt my brain. But since women had babies the size of watermelons, I figured I’d be fine.

  Caleb gently pulled my palms away from my flaming face.

  “Are you okay?”

  Slowly, I nodded.

  “We can stop…get some salad.”

  I swatted his chest. “I want this. I want you.”

  He eased onto the bed, body hovering over me until his body heat engulfed me. I snuggled into the comforter underneath me, looking up at the glorious man who somehow found my awkwardness bearable.

  And thank god he did, because I was not dying a virgin. Even if it meant paying somebody to do me on my death bed.

  Holy damn. My mind should not go to such weird places while a naked guy was above me.

  Caleb’s fingertips danced down my torso, making me squirm and heat up every place he caressed. He stopped just below my belly button, kissing me softly the same moment he started rubbing the bundle of nerves that screamed for his attention until I withered under him.

  My gasp when he put more pressure into the circular motions gave him room for his tongue to enter my mouth, doing its own tango with mine as he worked me with his hand.

  My hips drove up, demanding more. He answered the silent plea by entering me gently, first with one finger, then a second. I murmured his name under my breath as he picked up the pace, my body aching for more and more as I moved my hips to ride his palm.

  Nervously, my hand traveled between us until I found his hard length. Wrapping my fingers around it, I squeezed gently, causing him to jerk in my palm. He groaned into my mouth, pulling back and resting his forehead against mine as I drew my hand up and down the smooth skin.

  “Fuck, Paisley,” he breathed, “that feels so fucking good.”

  I kissed him and quickened my pace, smiling to myself when he twitched in my hold. His breathing became rugged and his fingers faltered as we lost ourselves in each other.

  I was panting his name and silently pleading for everything he’d give when he put his hand over mine.

  “Stop,” he groaned. “Jesus, I need to be inside of you. Are you ready for that? We don’t have to—”

  “Condom,” was all I got out.

  It seemed like the wrapper appeared magically in his hands like I willed it to. Maybe it was my secret power; it could come in handy.

  When he was covered, he shifted so his right forearm was holding him up and his other hand caressed my cheek.

  “I love you,” he told me again.

  “I love you, too.”

  He spent a few seconds kissing me, caressing my stomach, legs, and inner thighs, before slowly guiding his way inside me. I spread my legs wider to give him more access, wincing over the pressure of the intrusion. He paused when he felt me tense, using his fingers to loosen me up and whisper and kiss me.

  “Fuuuck,” I moaned as he worked his way in further.

  He paused. “Are you okay?”

  I only managed to nod.

  I was more okay, but I couldn’t put it to words. And when he was all the way in, he stopped and let me adjust to his size, kissing my face, my neck, my collarbone. His hand kept caressing me until I was moaning for more.

  What we shared felt like an eternity as Caleb showed me just how much he loved me. Whispering how beautiful I was and other sweet nothings into my ear until my eyes started rolling back from the sensations building in the bottom of my tummy.

  I wasn’t sure how long it lasted, or how long he held me after, but being in Caleb’s arms was suddenly the only place I ever wanted to be. It was warm and peaceful, and his hold was all I could focus on.

  Not the pain.

  Not the anger from the past.

  Just love. Just us.

  His lips brushed the side of my head.

  “Still want salad?” he whispered.

  I yawned. “Shut up.”

  He chuckled. “Why don’t you get some sleep, and I’ll go grab Tater and bring her back. Sound okay?”

  “I’ll come with you,” I insisted, slipping out of bed to find my clothes scattered on the floor.

  “Hey, Paisley?”

  “Mmhm?”

  “Still loving those rainbow kitten panties.”

  Two Years Later

  Caleb

  My fiancée was fucking gorgeous.

  She wasn’t thrilled that the green graduation robe was twice the size of her, but I was. I hated thinking others would get to see her body in the little black dress she wore underneath. And the black heels that Iris insisted she wore with the dress made her legs go on for days. I had to bite my knuckles the moment I saw her in the mirror this morning.

  When it was her rows turn to stand and walk across the stage, I stood up along with Paisley’s parents.

  “Paisley Marie May,” the college president called, smiling as Paisley walked toward the podium. “Master’s in English Education and new professor at Oakland University.”

  On cue, our entire row started yelling out her name and cheering her on as she shook the woman’s hand. On her way down the second set of stairs that led back to the metal chairs set up for graduates on the pavilion lawn, she gave me the proudest smile I’d ever seen.

  In my arms was a squirming baby girl with her Mama’s dark hair and porcelain skin and my blue eyes reaching out toward Paisley. She cooed and drooled on my forearm when she saw Paisley wiggling her fingers at us.

  “Do you see Mommy, Austen?” I cooed, lifting her tiny wrist and gettin
g her to wave back.

  Paisley blew us both kisses as she stopped at her seat, waiting for everyone else to get back to their row before sitting down. She looked over her shoulder, locking eyes on our nine-month-old daughter.

  Austen Elena had been a complete surprise.

  We’d discussed having a family after Paisley got her master’s degree and was settled into her position as a contemporary literature professor. But life had other plans for us, and nine months later we had a beautiful baby girl that wrapped us both around her little fingers.

  Not once did Paisley falter with her studies. She always attended her classes and worked as a TA in English classes related to her area of study. She loved every second of the program, even on the worst days of the pregnancy.

  I hadn’t seen her any sexier than when she was carrying my child. Even if she thought she looked like a beach ball—her words, not mine.

  I bounced Austen in my arms when she started crying after realizing Paisley wasn’t coming over to pick her up.

  “Shh,” I hushed, kissing her cheek. “This is Mommy’s big day, baby girl. We need to be good, remember?”

  Her watery blue eyes nearly crushed me when they locked on mine. Her palm reached out and touched my clean-shaven cheek. I kissed the center of her hand and bounced her with my thighs again as we watched the rest of the ceremony.

  When all the graduates were announced and back at their seats, everybody stood up and threw their caps into the air.

  Paisley’s, of course, came back down faster than she anticipated, smacking her on the head before she could catch it.

  Even Austen giggled.

  After the ceremony, Paisley met us with her robe draped over her arm and the heels dangling from her fingers. She’d been worried over falling in them since they were stick thin and four inches tall, so it didn’t surprise me she’d taken them off as soon as she could. Iris would have been proud seeing Paisley successfully walk without incident.

  Both Iris and Tony had wanted to come and support Paisley today, but the boys were sick with a virus that caused two separate pediatric visits within the course of three days. Paisley had understood, especially since Austen came into our lives.