The Belle and the Beard

by Kate Canterbary

  As I stared at my reflection, I caught sight of Linden watching me from the doorway. He eyed the lace running down to my wrists, over my back. It felt appropriately vintage to me, nearly Grace Kelly in its vibe.

  "Didn't think I'd forget, did you?" he asked.

  I shook my head. Linden didn't forget. He didn't break promises. He didn't let me down. Like he'd said all those months ago, he wasn't going to be one of those people. I'd assumed that was nothing more than pillow talk. The kind of things people said when they were drowning in sexual tension.

  I knew better now. I knew he'd meant it.

  "Never doubted you for a second," I said.

  He stepped closer, his hands held wide as they ghosted over my dress. "How long do we have?"

  In the reflection, I spied the digital clock beside the bed. "Five minutes. Maybe one or two more if Magnolia can stall."

  He shucked off his suit coat, tossed it to the bed. Flipped his tie over his shoulder. Rolled up his cuffs. "Gonna have to be quick," he said, dropping to his knees behind me. He carefully lifted the skirt to my waist, skimmed his hand up my thigh and dragged my panties down. "Hold on, Peach. I'm gonna make this good for you."

  He placed a hand below my navel, an anchor to keep me from pitching over when I lost my footing. I would, of course. I'd fall apart for him now the same as I always did.

  His lips traveled up my bottom, his soft-coarse beard the very best tease, and I groaned out loud when he elbowed my stance open and ducked his head between my legs.

  He parted my folds with his tongue, licking just enough to force a desperate moan from my lips. My heels came out of my shoes as I leaned up on my tiptoes. He speared his tongue inside me and I arched into it, into the devastating heat of it. His growl rumbled through me. "Oh, fuck, yes. Yes. Eat that pussy."

  "That's right, little wife," he said. "This is all mine."

  I stared at my reflection in the mirror, finding myself with hazed-over eyes and slack-jawed lips as he tugged my most tender places between his teeth, sucking and nipping, and fucking me with two fingers. There was no way I'd walk down the aisle on steady legs and that was exactly the plan.

  "I can taste myself on you, from this morning," he whispered.

  "I love that." This position didn't let me see him—not much, anyway—but I loved that too. It was a perverse spin on wedding day superstitions. Though I didn't have to see him to know he was hard and throbbing right now. "Get your cock out. Make yourself come for me."

  "Not until you do," he said.

  "I asked you," I started, my tone as clipped as ever, "to get your cock out. It would be a terrible thing to disappoint me on my wedding day."

  I heard his belt rattle and the rustle of clothing. I felt his groan when he had himself in hand. I didn't have to see him to know he was treating himself to a slow rub down his length, a twist at the crown, and then a rough jerk back to the base. I knew he'd let out a hummed growl any minute now as he sped up, let his hand fly faster over his cock as he found the rhythm he needed.

  Linden sucked hard at my clit as he stroked himself, his fingers still working my pussy, and the mixed chorus of our groans and cries seemed to gather around the fine lace of my dress, the crisp cut of his suit. We were getting married within the hour.

  "I love you so much," I gasped. "I want you to come on my ass."

  I didn't know what it was about those statements that made them so profoundly right but my orgasm came at me fast, a jagged, thorny throb that spiraled through me and left everything from my belly button on down shaky and unsteady.

  Linden growled out something as he pushed to his feet, replacing the hand around his cock with the one he'd had buried in my pussy a moment ago. He held my dress in place as he pressed me down, his big palm on the center of my back. "I fucking love you," he rasped.

  I watched in the mirror as his arm flexed, his hand shuttling over his cock. The sound of slapping flesh and the brush of his knuckles between my ass cheeks left me aching and clenching and clinging to the last aftershocks of my orgasm.

  Again— "I fucking love you."

  And the hot lash of his release hit my skin.

  This new chapter of my life, it wasn't nearly as tough as the ones that came before. It wasn't lonely or sad or defensive. It was dirty and messy, rude and lusty, and safe and loved. It was everything I'd ever wanted.

  Epilogue

  Linden

  Three years later

  We named them Sawyer Reuel and Savannah Eowyn.

  It surprised me when Jasper suggested names that called to mind her home state but home wasn't something she needed to avoid anymore. The middle names were straight out of The Lord of the Rings and I was very pleased about that win.

  Maybe it shouldn't have but the discovery we were having twins came as a shock. It knocked Jasper right over. She wanted everything to be perfect for them, everything to be just so, and that meant the first five months of her pregnancy were mayhem.

  We put an addition on the house because she insisted we needed more bedrooms, more bathrooms, more space. More of everything. She had to paint and decorate and prepare—and then change it all and do it again. We took the classes, read the books, learned everything there was to know while my mother clucked about not worrying because these things came naturally. I had to gently ask her to stop filling my wife's head with any of that you'll know what to do nonsense. That wasn't Jasper's operating system.

  The other two and half months of Jasper's pregnancy were also mayhem because the doctors put her on bed rest. If there was ever a time when she had to ask for help and lean on other people, it was then. She managed as well as anyone could manage nearly three months of confinement. Magnolia developed a schedule so that my siblings and their partners, plus our friends, were constantly dropping in to visit with Jasper while I was working. Some of them got really good at making fancy toast during that time. My brother-in-law was still a convert. My mother kept trying to make sandwiches but we forgave her that because she was there for us every minute of those months.

  The twins spent two weeks in neonatal care until they reached fighting weight and we brought them home. I was glad we'd read all those books and taken all those classes but my mother was right about knowing what to do. I didn't tell her that but she was right. I understood what to do when I held them. It was the same way I understood what to do when I held Jasper.

  They were almost one year old now and Magnolia's boys, Elijah and Ethan, were three. No kids for Ash and Zelda yet but they were busy looking for a home outside the city now that they were finally married. Jasper was lobbying hard for them to move in next door, into Midge's cottage. I didn't think it would happen but I couldn't deny it would be nice to have them there.

  It would give that impossibly old black cat someone new to stalk.

  We had nine crockpots in our pantry and two styles of toaster oven on our kitchen countertop, and six different baby carriers for walking in the woods. That was our life now and I loved it more than I could explain.

  Magnolia and I worked together every day and this partnership was one of her best ideas and my best decisions. Commitment and responsibility weren't nearly as awful as I'd imagined. Jasper was the executive director of a community activism organization because world domination was only a matter of time when it came to my wife. She also hosted book (wine) club meetings every month, grew a mean kitchen garden, and had a standing pedicure date with her friends.

  I loved the complex simplicity of it. The order and the routine but also the chaos. Babies were fucking chaos and they knew it. I even loved the noise, the ever-present noise of people and crying and what the fuck was that? and living. Living was loud—and so was love—and I treasured it all more than I could explain.

  "There you go, you little Hobbitses," I said, setting Sawyer and Savvi back in their crib. We had two cribs. We had two of everything. Still, they only slept when they were together. "You have full bellies and clean diapers. You can sleep for another few ho
urs." Savvi babbled at me indignantly. "Then, you can play quietly but it's too early for us to wake Momma."

  Sensing the cause was hopeless, Sawyer flopped back to the mattress and shoved his thumb in his mouth. He always gave in first. His sister was a different story. After a pause, Savvi brought her blanket to her chest and wobbled over to her side.

  I watched them as I backed out of the room. They'd babble to each other for a few minutes but they'd nod off after that. The trick was making sure they believed it was sleepytime. If they thought their Momma was awake, rattling around the kitchen and fixing toast, they'd throw all of hell and damnation at me until I picked them up and allowed them to toddle free.

  I climbed back into bed beside Jasper. Her hair was half in its usual bun, half out, and her plaid shirt had slipped down her shoulder. It was my shirt but it was hers. Anything that was mine was hers.

  "Did they settle down after their bottles?"

  "Mostly," I replied, tucking her ass into my lap. "They'll be all right in there for an hour or two if they don't. They can talk to each other."

  Jasper reached for the video monitor on her bedside table. The screen showed the twins were lying on their sides, facing each other. Sawyer still had his thumb in his mouth but that didn't stop him from babbling to Savvi. She had the blanket under her head and yammered back at her brother with a quick kick of her little legs.

  "They're the cutest things in the world," she whispered.

  "I know." When she continued watching, I took the monitor from her hand and returned it to the table. "They'll still be cute in an hour."

  "If you're trying to tell me you won't be grumbly and growly for me in an hour, I'm going to have to disagree with you there, husband. You're grumbly and growly all the time."

  "You're right about that, Peach. I am." I kissed that exposed shoulder all the way to the base of her throat. "Always."

  Thank you for reading! I hope you loved Linden and Jasper! If you’d like to read a baby brunch bonus chapter featuring Jasper, Linden, Magnolia, Rob, Ash, Zelda, some Walsh family friends, and (of course) Grandmazilla, sign up at https://geni.us/BATBBC

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  Also By Kate Canterbary

  The Santillian Triplets

  The Magnolia Chronicles — Magnolia

  Boss in the Bedsheets — Ash and Zelda

  The Belle and the Beard — Linden and Jasper-Anne

  Vital Signs

  Before Girl — Cal and Stella

  The Worst Guy — Sebastian Stremmel’s story ~ coming soon

  Benchmarks Series

  Professional Development — Drew and Tara

  Orientation — Jory and Max

  The Walsh Series

  Underneath It All – Matt and Lauren

  The Space Between – Patrick and Andy

  Necessary Restorations – Sam and Tiel

  The Cornerstone – Shannon and Will

  Restored — Sam and Tiel

  The Spire — Erin and Nick

  Preservation — Riley and Alexandra

  Thresholds — The Walsh Family

  Foundations — Matt and Lauren

  Walsh Family Spinoff Standalones

  Missing In Action — Wes and Tom

  Coastal Elite — Jordan and April

  Talbott’s Cove

  Fresh Catch — Owen and Cole

  Hard Pressed — Jackson and Annette

  Far Cry — Brooke and JJ

  Rough Sketch — Gus and Neera

  Get exclusive sneak previews of upcoming releases through Kate's newsletter and private reader group, The Canterbary Tales, on Facebook.

  Acknowledgments

  The Belle and the Beard is my twenty-first published novel.

  I can only speak for my own creative process and the labor of love that is telling the stories of the people in my head, though I’m comfortable saying it doesn’t get easier. The stories, the journeys, they couples—they’re all different. No two are ever written the same way.

  And I’m extremely grateful to the people who put up with me as I discover the new ways I’ll create each day. I’m thankful to loved ones and dear friends who allow me to continue figuring this out.