by Dinah McLeod
Dean's brow creased with concern. “Is everything okay? What's going on, Shelby?”
“Nothing's wrong...exactly.”
“Then what is it, exactly?”
I smiled weakly, took a deep breath and felt my butterflies take flight. “I just hope you'll be happy, that's all.”
Dean was starting to look downright impatient. “Happy about what? Spill already or we will be going back to the bedroom for another spanking.”
I couldn’t help but be amused and my smile was genuine this time. As gruff as his voice was, he was caressing my thigh and I could see from the look in his eyes that if we went to the bedroom for anything, it wouldn't be for another spanking. “You're going to be a father again.”
Dean blinked at me, his face still and uncomprehending. I watched, waiting with bated breath for him to speak. “Say again, please?”
“I'm pregnant.” The words were spoken softly, but they were said with pride. For all my earlier freak-out, I had been growing more and more excited about having another child. I’d wished for a long time that we’d had more kids and now it was finally happening.
He blinked at me again before grinning. “Are you kidding?”
I tilted my head to the side, trying to get a read on him. “No.”
“How long have you known?”
“Not long,” I hedged. I started to duck my head away from his suddenly stern gaze.
“How long, Shelby?”
“About two weeks,” I admitted.
He was silent for several long minutes. Then, “Shelby Davies! I ought to tan your hide for keeping this secret to yourself!”
“I was always going to tell you! The timing was just never right.” I halted, leaving all the reasons left unsaid.
Dean shook his head ruefully; he knew them all without me having to say a word. “I guess you're right about that. I'm sorry you didn't think you could tell me, honey.” He stood and pulled me to him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and before I knew what was happening, he was whirling me around in the air. “Honey! We're going to have a baby!”
“Shh!” I scolded, giggling. “You'll wake up Morgan.”
“Let's do it!” he urged, the excitement in his voice easy to hear. “Let's wake him up and tell him that he’s going to be a big brother!”
“Yes, and a tired, grumpy one at that. It can wait till morning. That's not that far away, after all.”
He grinned at me. “I guess it isn't, but I don't want to wait. I want the whole world to know! God, Shelby, I love you so much.” He bent his head and kissed me, a kiss that I returned eagerly. I was so relieved that he was as excited—if not a little more so than I was.
“I'm so glad.”
“I'm so proud of you, Shelby. You're such a great mom. Are you ready to do it all over again?”
“I guess so,” I laughed. “As ready as I can be, I guess.”
“Crying and midnight feedings and diapers—oh, my!”
I shook my head at him, giggling. “Something like that.”
His face turned serious. “I don't know if you need to be working so much with a baby on the way. I want you to be careful, and—”
“Dean, let’s not do this right now. Can't we just be happy?”
He studied me for a moment before nodding his agreement. “I guess we can talk about it later.”
“Thank you. Now let’s get some sleep.”
“Sleep?” he cried. “How can you sleep at a time like this? Besides, I don't want to miss Morgan before he goes to school in the morning.”
I checked the clock on the wall. “That's almost four hours from now!”
He waggled his eyebrows at me. “I have some thoughts for how to fill the time while we wait.”
Chapter 5
“Let me tell him,” Dean had asked, his eyes pleading with me to understand.
I’d been disappointed, and perhaps he’d known I would be. Somehow, I’d envisioned a nice, delicious dinner over which we would tell him together. I hesitated, but only for a second. “All right.”
I was rewarded with the biggest smile I’d seen in a long time. “Thank you,” he’d said, pulling me to him for a long, lingering kiss that had gone on for close to half an hour.
It was only two days later, and I’d just waved goodbye to the two of them from the front porch before wrapping my arms around myself to ward against the chill and going back inside. It was an off day for me, and without the two of them here I honestly had no idea what to do with myself. I could clean, sure—when could the house not use a little picking up? I could curl up with a good book, or...
I honestly didn't know. The truth was, I was more than a little nervous over the idea of the two of them being alone. They hadn’t had many nice things to say to each other in a long time, and I highly doubted that what Dean had to tell him would make it any better.
I ran through all the things I could do in my mind but only one thing stuck out: sleep. I couldn’t deny that I was tired. I was pulling longer hours at Dairy Queen lately and running constantly. I still got up early every morning to see Morgan off to school and Dean off to work and the truth was, I was exhausted.
The idea of my warm, plush bed sounded so good I found myself wandering back to my bedroom without giving it another thought. Before too long I was back in between the sheets and closing my eyes. Even with the darkness behind my lids, I found I couldn't stop my mind from racing. What would Morgan say when Dean told him? Would he be upset? I was pretty sure he would be. After all, what teenage boy liked hearing that his mother was pregnant? Especially when things weren't exactly perfect at home.
With a sigh, I turned to the other side of the bed, but I didn’t find sleep any easier. I pulled the pillow out from under my head and flipped it, hoping that the cool side of the pillow would lull me to sleep. When that didn’t work, I’d nearly resigned myself to getting back up when a thought hit me. It was so outrageous for a person like me to even consider that I giggled aloud and then looked around at the empty room, feeling embarrassed. There was one thing that had always gotten me to sleep even when it was at its most elusive. Something I hadn't done in years, even in spite of the trouble Dean and I had been having.
I was normally the kind of girl who waited patiently, who didn't take matters into her own hands, who let the man take control...Ooh, I loved it when he took control. Just the thought of it had my juices dampening my panties. I closed my eyes again and reached down to pull off my lounge pants. Once I’d thrown them off, I rubbed my hand over my panties, finding the light touch on my pussy to be erotic—even more so when I imagined it was Dean touching me. With his image in my mind, I slid a finger inside my sheer bikini panties to explore my arousal.
My finger plunged into the wetness and I gasped aloud. I’d forgotten how warm it could feel, how delicious and naughty. I wondered what Dean would think if he could see me now. Would he find it naughty, the kind of naughty he wanted to flip me over his lap and spank me for? Or would it be the kind of naughty he wanted to watch? Maybe I should confess my sin and see what he said, I thought, adding another finger to the one that teased my clit with slow, tantalizing circles.
I could see it in my mind’s eye and picture waiting until after dinner, until we were alone in the bedroom. I would stand before him with downcast eyes and flushed cheeks as I murmured my secret to the white shag carpet.
“What?” he'd say, his voice somewhere between a gasp and a whisper. Feeling the pulsing of his cock, Dean would clear his throat and ask, louder, “What did you say?”
“I was a bad girl,” I would admit, softly, looking into his eyes.
“What did you do?” he’d ask, practically begging me to say it again.
“I played with myself while you were away, Sir,” I'd admit, trying to look away again.
Dean wouldn’t have any of it, though. He’d stand up, towering over me, and take my jaw in his hand. He’d scold me with his eyes and still unable to resist the lure of my mouth he’d bend his he
My breath was coming in fast, ragged gasps as my fingers danced to the scene my imagination created. I could see him pushing me toward the bed, ripping my pants down. I could practically feel him spreading my legs apart with a hungry force that I would find exciting. I could feel him plunging inside my wetness and claiming me as only he could.
The thought had my fingers working faster and faster, toying with my wet folds until I arched my back and came, gasping his name. I could feel him falling beside me, spent from his own orgasm. I could feel the press of a kiss on my forehead and hear his murmured declarations of love.
“Now, see?” he'd whisper huskily. “Wasn't that better than your fingers?”
* * * * *
Dean
I wondered what Shelby was doing right now. Maybe it had been a bad idea, not bringing her along. As it was, Morgan had barely said three words to me and the only constant sound in the car had been the sound of the radio. I’d told him that I wanted to spend some time with him, but he had seemed less than thrilled. I could hardly blame him. I wasn’t known for being the best dad as of late. Hell, if I was honest with myself, I knew I’d never been the dad Morgan needed.
I glanced over at him. He was staring out the window morosely, his chin in his hand. It was funny, everyone always talked about how closely we resembled each other, but I’d never been able to see a shred of myself in Morgan. I had been Army born and bred from the beginning, but Morgan was made of different stuff. Of course, part of me had always hoped to have a son to follow in my footsteps, but another part of me was vastly relieved. I didn't want to have to worry about him on every tour, dreading every phone call while he was away. And I knew better than anyone that danger could come even if he got back home safely. It would kill Shelby.
When I’d realized my own fears about Morgan enlisting in the military, I had to wonder how she’d been able to do it all these years, and so well. She'd done an admirable job for eighteen years, keeping everything together while I was away. She’d practically raised a son all by herself, which was no small feat. Not only that, but he was a good boy. Yes, his hair was too long, and yes, I'd always question his political views, but he was a straight-A student. He'd never been in trouble with the law—hell, he'd never even had a detention! Yes, it was what I’d expected, but from what I was learning, it was also very rare. I even knew of families in the military who couldn't say the same about their own children.
Yes, she always managed to hold everything together. People always assumed that I, being in the military and all, was the glue that kept us together, but in truth, she was our rock. Without her, we would crumble. It was humbling to realize. I hadn't done nearly enough for her, or been as grateful as I should have been. Shelby was good at so many things, especially things like this. She’d know exactly what to say. What had I been thinking, suggesting to her that I take care of it myself, and alone?
Morgan had seemed suspicious at the start, now he just seemed bored. I tried to tell myself that it was an act—that he really did want to spend time with me, but if that was the case, he was a pretty good actor. And if he didn't want to spend time with me, well, I couldn’t really blame him, could I? The only reason he’d agreed at all, as far as I could tell, was because I told him he could decide what we’d do. He’d given me an address but forbidden me to look it up. I wasn’t used to getting orders from my own kid, but I’d resisted the urge to investigate. You had to give to get, right?
Not that I wasn’t as nervous about the destination as I was about the talk. It was probably a tie between the two.
“Should we be getting there soon?” I asked Morgan, not because I really needed him to tell me—I had a GPS, after all—but as a means to fill in the silence.
“Yep.”
“Somewhere you've been before, I take it?”
“Yep.”
“Morgan, don't say 'yep' it sounds disrespectful,” I said in a warning tone.
“Okay.”
I bit back the lecture that sprang to my lips. Now really wasn’t the time. “So, how's school?”
“Hasn't changed since the last time you asked.”
That did it. “You know, young man, it wouldn't kill you to be civil.”
“This isn't civil?” For the first time since this car trip started, he turned to look at me. “I'm sorry, Dad, I was just imitating you. I thought this was civil.”
I clenched my jaw to keep from yelling at him, which was my first instinct. I was beginning to think I needed to ignore my first instincts where Morgan was concerned. It took a couple of measured breaths before I could respond. “Look, Morgan, I'm trying here. You need to meet me halfway.”
“Trying to what, exactly?”
“To make everything up to you.” I knew the words were inadequate, but what I hadn't counted on was my son’s lack of response. He went back to staring out the window as though he wasn’t even interested in my apologies, much less anything else I had to say. “Listen, I know we're different—”
“And you don't like me very much.”
The words were mumbled, but loud enough for me to make them out. I felt emotion ripple through me as sharp as if I’d just taken another bullet. “That's just not true,” I managed, my voice gruff with the pain his words caused.
His only response was a snort of disbelief. “You sure about that?”
“Positive,” I replied, my voice firm. “Morgan, you're my son. Maybe some days you wish I wasn’t your dad and I’ll admit there have been days when I’ve wanted you to be more...”
“Like you,” he interjected. “And days? Try years, Dad.”
If I hadn't detected the pain his voice carried I might have dropped it then and there. “Morgan, you're a great kid.” I winced as soon as I heard the words come out of my mouth. “Excuse me, Son, I’m sorry. You’re not a kid; you haven’t been for a while. You’ve become a great man."
I could feel his eyes back on me. His voice was decidedly causal as he asked, “You think so?”
“Son, I know so. And look, I really am sorry. I’ve been too hard on you, I know that. If I could turn back time, I’d do it in a heartbeat, I swear to you. I know you don’t have any reason to believe me, but Morgan, that’s all I've got.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his nod and I relaxed a bit, loosening the tight grip I had on the steering wheel. My palms stung with the imprint of the steering wheel cover, but I didn't care. The only thing I was thinking about was his response.
The silence was even worse than before. Morgan kept his eyes on the trees that were whizzing by as I drove and rather than forcing him into a response, I decided to let it drop.
“So, where are we going?” I tried again.
Morgan sighed. “Dad, seriously, do you have to be in charge of everything? Can't you ever have fun, just once?”
I blinked at the question, caught off guard. I couldn’t remember the last time I'd had “fun," at least not in the sense that Morgan meant. To me, “fun” was training my troops, “fun” was keeping everyone alive and in one piece. I’d learned long ago that being in the Army wasn't what Hollywood made it out to be in the movies. “I can have fun.”
“Yeah,” he snorted in response.
“I can,” I insisted. “I know how to have fun.”
“Whatever, Dad.”
My mind raced trying to find a way to connect with him. “Let me prove it.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. How about we put money on it?”
“Yeah, right.” He was trying his hardest to sound disinterested but I could hear his curiosity. I didn’t answer and it wasn’t long before he took the bait. “So, how much are we talking here?”
“How much do you have?” I was glancing his way and caught it when he cut his eyes towards me. “What do you say to twenty bucks?"
“Please, Dad,” he replied, trying to squelch a grin.
��Hey!” I cried at his eye roll. “What are you, like a hard-core gambler?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could detect the corners of his mouth twitching. “I've been known to take some shirts in poker.”
“Take some shirts?” I echoed.
“It means—”
“No, I got it.”
“So, what’s the deal?”
“It's twenty or nothing. Hey, if you're hardcore, you'll take it.”
He shrugged his shoulders, but it wasn't much of a protest. “We're almost there.”
“So what do I get?”
“Huh?”
“If you win, you get twenty bucks. And if I win, I doubt you've got that kind of cash, so what do I get?”
“What do you want?” he asked, suddenly suspicious.
I had to fight back a smile. “I don't know. Let me think about it.”
The GPS directed me to make a left turn and it put us right in a parking lot. I looked at the slightly run-down metal building and regretted not Googling before I'd agreed to drive us here. Which was precisely why he’d vetoed it, I suspected. We both got out of the car and looked toward the building.
“So,” I said, trying to sound lighthearted. “What do they do in there? Cook drugs? Sacrifice virgins?”
“Dad,” he deadpanned. “C'mon. Like I know any virgins.”
I rounded on him with full intentions of dressing him down until I saw the smile twitching on his lips. Shelby was right. He definitely had a sense of humor that took some getting used to. “Okay, so?”
“Come on.”
We walked toward the building together and the closer we got, the more skeptical I became. The tin roof looked to be precarious and the side of the building was covered in rust. Still, we’d made a bet and I doubted it would be very “fun” if I insisted we turn back. Besides, I’d faced insurgents—what could he be asking me to do that could compete with that?
When we hit the door, my jaw dropped. Literally dropped. I could feel Morgan’s eyes on me, but I couldn't look away; I was in awe. You’d never know it from the battered exterior, but the inside was bustling with activity.
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