Very Merry Wingmen: A Holiday Collection

by Daisy Prescott

  “It’s not staying,” John grumbles.

  “Honey, she loves it.” Mirroring her daughter’s actions, Diane scratches his beard.

  “We don’t have room. She has a million toys and the baby’s going to have more stuff. We’re becoming the old woman who lived in a shoe.”

  Diane glances around the room’s jumble of toys and furniture. “I don’t think we’ve reached that level yet, but we could use more space.”

  “You thinking of moving?” The thought never occurred to me. John’s always lived on Sunlight Beach in his uncle’s cabin. It’s not huge, but it’s not a tiny shack either. And it’s right on the sand. One of the few non-mansions left.

  “Never, but I want to expand the upstairs,” Diane says.

  “And I don’t want to be one of those people who puts a huge house on a small lot,” John argues.

  By those people, he means summer people. Seattle people who “weekend” on the island in huge homes that sit empty for the majority of the year.

  “How big are you talking?” I study the open concept kitchen, dining area and living room with a view over the bay.

  “Not a mansion. Another bathroom. Maybe add a bedroom.”

  “Doesn’t sound unreasonable,” I agree with Diane.

  “We have a baby coming.” John states the obvious like we’ve forgotten.

  “You wouldn’t live here while there’s construction. Move out. Hell, you could live in Ellie’s place until summer while she’s in Arizona.” I offer a solution he hasn’t asked for, but that’s what we do. We fix things, including problems, whether we’re asked to or not.

  “See, John? There are options. Maybe not this winter, but next year could work? I’m not up for being sleepless and homeless.” Diane mouths “no” while shaking her head.

  “We’ll see,” John says, and I know he’ll agree if she really wants this. He lives for her happiness. The old softy.

  CHAPTER 3

  O n my way home from John’s, I swing by Sal’s Pizza in Freeland to pick up an order Hailey called in for dinner. When I walk in to the restaurant, I interrupt Roslyn and Dan in the middle of an intimate conversation.

  “I’m fine. Doctor is worried about my ‘advanced maternal age’ because I’m over thirty-five. Jeez, like I don’t know I’m facing down forty, you have to label me old on all my paperwork?” Roslyn’s a force on a normal day when she’s not pumped full of hormones. Her eyes flash with annoyance.

  I swear the hairs on my arms prickle with the tension in the room.

  “Love, your sugar levels are elevated,” Dan says. He’s her husband, the island pizza guru, possibly Batman, and a silver fox according to every woman I know, including my mother and Gramma Ellie.

  Ros sticks her tongue out at him. “Still within the normal range.”

  Dan stares at her with his dark eyes and she glares right back, lost in a silent contest of their own. Giving up, he spins around to face the ledge separating the front counter from the open kitchen.

  I’m picking up a pizza for my own pregnant wife. I don’t have all night to let them battle for dominance.

  “Is that my pizza on the counter?” I speak up and point to the box sitting under the heat lamp. Not that Dan can see me because he doesn’t have an extra pair of eyes on the back of his head.

  “No,” he says, not glancing at me. “Yours is still in the oven.”

  “Okay, well, maybe I’ll take a seat and let you two finish whatever it is you’re doing.” After saying hi, I slide around Roslyn and head toward the first booth.

  “I’m fine,” she whispers to me as I pass.

  “All the pregnant ladies say the same thing,” I say in the same hushed tone.

  “Then why don’t you men believe us?” She keeps her voice low and conspiratorial.

  “Because fine is usually code for anything but. We’ve been trained to protect our balls when we hear women say fine,” Dan responds loudly still with his back to us.

  Roslyn’s eyes narrow as she faces me. “Do you agree?”

  My neck itches under her scrutiny. I’m damned either way. “You’re kind of proving his point right now. Your eyes could shoot laser beams if you glare any stronger.”

  She blinks and shakes her head. “I didn’t realize I was glaring.”

  Dan dips his chin and glances over his shoulder at me. “Tom, how’re things going with you?”

  “Good. Boat business is good. We’re busy down at the yard. Hailey’s finishing up a project by first week in December and we’ll see what happens after that.”

  “If she’s anything like Roslyn, I bet she’s not planning on slowing down until the very last minute.” Dan smiles at his wife. Even I can see the love in his eyes. The man’s hopelessly in love when it comes to Roslyn. Guess when you found and then lost your love, you hold on tight if you get a second chance.

  “My hearing is fine, too,” Roslyn remarks, but there’s no malice in her voice.

  “You’ve never been sexier,” Dan says softly. “Nor more beautiful. Never have I been more conscious of my heart living outside my body.”

  Roslyn sighs. “Damn you. You can’t use your superpowers over me like that.”

  I swear she’s blushing. When I first walked in, I felt like I’d interrupted an argument. Now, I’m the awkward third on their lovey-dovey date.

  “Pizza done yet?” I ask, ready to get out of here so they can get on with it.

  “You see a box on the counter?” Behind the counter, Dan flips his attention from Roslyn to me. “How about I give you some garlic knots while you wait?”

  “If you insist.” I’m not a fool to turn down free food from Dan.

  “Are you taking maternity leave?” I ask, genuinely interested so I can use the information as leverage with Hailey.

  “I run my own PR company and there’s no way I can take six weeks of maternity leave. My clients will implode without me telling them what not to do.” She sighs. “I know they’ll be fine, but I’m not sure I can give up control.”

  “This is why your office is in the guest house,” Dan says. “At least you don’t have to commute off the island and management won’t complain if you bring your baby to work every day.”

  “Is John as bad as Dan?” Roslyn asks, resigned but smiling. “I swear the three of you need your own support group. Maybe some drumming and marching around the fire pit like cavemen would help.”

  I ignore her jab. She’s half right about us needing some guy time not involving baby talk. Or drum circles. I’ll leave that to Falcon, the island’s version of a human unicorn, or Jonah, because no one knows what he does in his off time.

  “John’s like papa bear but Diane’s Goldilocks. Or some fairy tale with an overprotective bear-husband figure in it. I need to brush up on my nursery rhymes,” I say as I try to remember the books I knew as a little kid.

  “I don’t think there are any with bear-husbands.” Roslyn scrunches up her face. “Not that I can remember.”

  “Me neither. I think you’re confusing your characters.” Dan snaps open a brown bag before filling it with garlic knots from a tray under a heat lamp on the ledge separating the kitchen from the front counter. Holding one in his tongs, he gestures at me. “Speaking of being clueless, did you and Hailey sign up for the Baby 101 class in Coupeville?”

  “Next Saturday morning. You?” I ask.

  “Same. Guess we’ll see you there.” He folds over the top of the bag and then sets it on the pizza box. “Half Hot Hawaiian, hold the jalapeños, and half sausage. Still haven’t gone over to the dark side of pineapple on pizza?”

  “Never. No fruit shall ever destroy my pizza.” I hand over my card to pay. “Can I place an order for garlic knots for class on Saturday?”

  “You want me to bring snacks?” he asks

  I shrug. “It’s a four-hour class.”

  Laughing, he shakes his head. “I’d have to bring enough for everyone.”

  “You’re right. Probably better to bring a co
uple of whole pies. Smart thinking.” I’m mostly joking, but my stomach growls with real hunger.

  “I’ll surprise you,” he says. “Flip the sign to closed on your way out. We’re closing early tonight.”

  Catching the steamy look he gives Roslyn, I take it upon myself to turn off most of the lights when I get to the door.

  Their laughter fades behind me as I eat a garlic knot on the way to my truck.

  * * *

  Saturday morning greets us with cold, misty rain dripping off the cedar trees surrounding our house. Staring out the window next to the bed, I stretch and yawn.

  “Can’t we stay home and watch YouTube videos? You can learn everything from those videos,” I whisper, trying to seduce her to my idea while spooning against her back. She’s wrapped around her body pillow, that she charmingly named Momoa.

  At first I thought she mispronounced the Disney cartoon, Moana. Of course my mind went to the cartoon given it’s been on rotation lately during our practice babysitting. Then I realized she meant the beefcake actor. And despite my efforts to get her to rename it Tom, or Tom Cat, or hell, even TC, she’s refused.

  Here we are, me, the love of my life, and Momoa, warm and cozy in our bed early on a weekend morning. And I’m expected to get up, drive all the way up the island to Coupeville, and sit in a classroom full of expectant parents all day.

  I thought registering for the shower was torture and that lasted only an hour. Maybe we can go over to town instead and test drive strollers around the mall. Sounds like a better plan to me, but I know Hailey will veto it without debate.

  Snuggling closer, I slip a hand over Hailey’s round belly and up to her full breasts. I have an idea to get out of class with distraction and delay.

  “Mmm, sensitive.” She stops my hand with hers.

  Okay, I change my route and head south. Right when I reach her hip, she shifts away.

  “Have to pee,” she mumbles into Momoa.

  Undeterred and sporting more than my standard morning wood, I give her ass a pat. “Go to the bathroom, but then come back to bed.”

  She shuffles to the edge of the mattress, shoving her body pillow behind her as she sits up. “Can’t. I need to shower and we can’t be late.”

  “I’m excellent at multi-tasking.” I crawl over to her, sweep her hair off her shoulder, and kiss the soft skin of her neck. “Shower’s big enough for both of us. I’ll wash your fun bits and you can do mine.”

  When she twists to see my face, my eyebrow waggling earns me the laughter I seek.

  “You’re incorrigible,” she says as she stands. Once vertical, she arches her back. “I swear I gained ten pounds while sleeping. Do I look bigger to you?”

  It’s difficult to tell in her loose pink and gray striped nightgown. Even after she supports her belly in her hands, I don’t see a difference from yesterday.

  “You look beautiful.” I gently sweep my hands over her middle. Something ripples beneath my touch.

  “Did you feel that?” she asks.

  “The baby?” A familiar wave of emotion slams into me.

  Hailey nods.

  Blinking rapidly because I have too much water in my eyes, I stare at my hand. “Good morning, Sprout.”

  At the sound of my voice, a baby part presses against my palm.

  “I think he just gave me a fist bump.” Even to my own ears, my voice is full of awe.

  “If that’s true, she’s standing on my bladder to do it.” Hailey grimaces.

  I feel another flutter, then the pressure disappears. “Maybe he’s doing somersaults again. I mean, how could you not?”

  “I wish he wouldn’t use my organs as the springboard.” She slips out of my reach and shuffles to the bathroom.

  “I notice you switched to calling Sprout a he.” Grinning, I crawl out of bed on my side. “Start the shower, I’ll let Nameless out and make some coffee.”

  Her gaze settles on my flannel pajama bottoms and the tent from my erection. “Okay.”

  At the top of the stairs, the wood floor squeaks. Nameless lifts his head from his bed and blinks at me with sleepy eyes.

  “Morning, dude,” I say, climbing down the stairs.

  His tail thumps in greeting before he stands and then stretches.

  I sit on the bottom step and wait for him to bound over to me. More Doodle than Lab, he still resembles a mop more than a dog. At least his razor-sharp puppy teeth are gone.

  Resting his front paws on my knees, he stands to lick my face. He’s a sloppy kisser, all wiggles and tongue with zero control.

  “Okay, that’s enough. Let’s go outside.”

  I let him out and he bounds off the deck toward the woods. While he does his business, I do mine. Once we’re done, I dole out his kibble and head back upstairs as the coffee machine does its magic.

  When I enter the bedroom, I head toward the sound of the shower in the adjoining bathroom. With a quick knock, I let Hailey know I’m back. We’re not the kind of couple who has an open bathroom door policy, so I wait for her invitation.

  “All clear,” she shouts over the running water.

  A cloud of warm steam greets me when I open the bathroom door. Quickly, I strip off my pants and T-shirt before joining her in the shower. Her hair sits on the top of her head in a soapy mess

  “You started without me.” I pout.

  “I wanted to get a head start so we have time for sex.” She grins at me with her eyes closed as she rinses the shampoo from her hair.

  “Turn around,” I tell her, grabbing the conditioner.

  While I rub conditioner into her hair, she hums and leans against me. This puts her butt in line with my erection. She knows it, too, because she slowly grinds against my cock.

  “It would seem I’m not the only one up for some action this morning.” I drop my hands to her shoulders, slowly trailing them down her arms and softly brushing her breasts with my knuckles. “I love your body.”

  “I’m a whale.”

  “Whales don’t have boobs, or curvy hips, or an ass that can make a man weep from pleasure. Or legs that are the stuff of many of my fantasies.” I drop into a squat as I touch each body part. With a soft mouth, I kiss her hip, tasting both her skin and the water pouring down her body.

  “What would whales do with legs?” she asks, bracing her hands on the shower wall.

  I run my palms between her thighs, gently encouraging her to part her legs. Clearly, I’m not doing foreplay right if she’s still thinking about whales. Less than gently, I bite her left butt cheek. Not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough she jumps in surprise. Soothing the same spot with a soft open mouth kiss, I replace the shock of pain with pleasure.

  “Turn around again,” I say, encouraging her with my hand on her hip.

  “So bossy this morning,” she says once she’s facing me.

  Her head is barely visible at this angle, my view mostly of her belly, but the amusement in her eyes is unmistakable.

  “You can purse your lips all you want, but you can’t deny you find me charming. In fact, you love me.”

  “More than I thought possible.” She tangles her fingers in my wet hair.

  I place a reverent kiss right below her navel, letting my mouth trace the dark line extending to the patch of curls. Dropping to my knees, I rest my hands on her thighs. I didn’t really consider the logistics of going down on my very pregnant wife in the shower.

  “Tom?” Hailey’s voice is quiet, uncertain.

  “I’m thinking.”

  “While staring at my bush?”

  “Yes?” I rest on my heels so I can see her face. “I finally understand the purpose of those non-slip shower mats.”

  “We don’t have to do anything.” Her face crumples with disappointment but she tries to smile.

  “Oh, I’m up for the challenge, just figuring out logistics.” I kiss one thigh and then the other to buy myself some time. “Okay, step back and brace your hands on the wall.”

  She obeys, doubt st
ill shadowing her eyes.

  Sliding my hand down to her ankle, I cup her calf. “Lift and rest your thigh on my shoulder.”

  “Are you sure?” I hate the doubt in her voice.

  “Why would I joke?” I kiss the inside of her knee.

  Again, she follows my instructions.

  “Perfect.” I meet her eyes as my fingers open her for me.

  I tease her with soft kisses from her knee to the top of her thigh. Nuzzling her with my nose, I exhale warm air across her tender skin.

  “Tom,” she pleads.

  “Hmm?” I hum against her thigh. Water pelts my back and drips from my hair. With my tongue, I trace the path of a droplet as it runs down her thigh.

  “It’s not nice to be mean to a pregnant woman.” She moans with a mix of pleasure and frustration.

  “Hmm.” My lips vibrate on her skin where her thigh ends and her ass begins. Unable to resist any longer, I sweep my tongue the length of her before swirling it around her clit. When she bucks her hips in response, I replace licking with sucking.

  One of her hands rests on my head, her fingers knotting into my hair, encouraging me.

  Slipping a finger inside of her, I curl my finger and locate the magic spot. She arches and grinds her hips closer to my mouth.

  “More,” she commands, her voice breathy and a little shaky.

  I don’t know if it’s the increased blood flow because of the pregnancy or the hormones or another unsolved mystery of being a woman, but Hailey’s more responsive than ever. Her fuse has shortened, and she goes from aroused to coming in record time these days. Not that I’m timing her. I have other things to focus on.

  Another few strokes of my tongue and a steady thrust of my fingers, and Hailey’s thighs begin to shake. With a moan, she clenches and flutters around my fingers as her body stiffens seconds before she explodes.

  I soften the pressure and slow my rhythm, coaxing her orgasm out of her. When her standing leg sags, I support it with a hand to the back of her knee. Placing a final soft kiss on her curls, I rest back on my heels again.

  A rosy flush covers her chest, which rises and falls with her shallow breaths. Her eyes are half closed and a blissful smile curls her lips.