by Zoey Derrick
I wait very impatiently for the best part of this service, but before that, we exchange our rings, and the ring she’s given me is beautiful and simple: black gold surrounding a wide platinum band. I slip her ring on her finger, and it’s platinum, to match her engagement ring, and it locks under the heart that she’s already wearing.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
That’s my cue and I grin. I pull her close to me, and I spin toward our small audience and dip her. She squeals. “I love you.” And I kiss her, hot and needy, in front of all our friends.
FORTY-EIGHT
We spend the rest of the evening with our friends inside of Blu; everyone is having a great time. It is a surprise to see Jessie behind the bar, and it is good to see him again.
We spend the evening dancing, including a dance with Cami and her father, and for our dance, she serenades me with her own acoustic rendition of “When I Look at You.” And I have to admit, she sings it far better than Miley Cyrus. Throughout the night I notice that she seems happier than I’ve ever seen her, and I’m so happy he came — for her if no one else.
Bobby is the first to leave.
“Take care of my girl,” he tells me as he takes my hand.
“I intend to.” He pulls me into a hug and I’m surprised by it.
“I’d always hoped you two would find each other. I knew from the moment I met you that there was something special with you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He pulls back and embraces Cami. “I should’ve never stifled that beautiful talent you have. You’re beautiful and I am so honored to have been here today.”
“I’m glad you were here too. Thank you,” she whispers, and I can see that this is a very emotional goodbye for her. She knows that she can see her father again, but there is always that chance that she never will.
After Bobby leaves, I take Cami into the lobby of the hotel.
“Are you okay?”
She smiles through her tears. “I will be. I didn’t know that he’d attended my graduations, and more importantly, I was angry that he was there and I didn’t know it. But today, having him here makes up for all of that. Thank you, Tristan, for telling him. I know you couldn’t make him come, and if he hadn’t shown up, I’m not sure I would’ve missed him. But having him here means a lot to me.” She hugs me.
I use my hand to lift her chin. “Anything for my wife.” She smiles and blushes as I use a new term. My heart fills with pride and joy, knowing that this woman is mine forever.
It is nearly midnight before Cami and I escape to our penthouse suite. “How are you feeling?” I ask her. I noticed a little while ago that she was a little restless.
“I feel amazing,” she says, and she comes toward me. “Now I want to feel even more amazing.” She pushes me back on the bed, but she’s not satisfied to have me sitting and she pushes me back. She hitches up the skirt of her dress and straddles me. She brings her lips to mine, and her kiss has my head swimming. She smells amazing, like the ocean and Cami. A scent I’ve come to love, especially when we’re here.
I feel her hands move along my chest, and the cool air of the room comes through as she unbuttons my shirt. When she’s reached the last button, her lips come away from mine and she begins kissing down my neck to my chest. Her tongue flicks across one of my nipples and the small barbell running through it warms and cools quickly. She kisses her way to the other and does the same thing.
Then she moves up my chest and kisses my dragon, and I can’t take it anymore. I begin pulling up her dress and find no resistance – she’s been careful to pull it up so she’s not kneeling on it — and I love that. The dress clears her body quickly, and I am met with her beautifully full breasts. “No bra, Mrs. Michaels?” I tease — I knew she wasn’t wearing one — and she smiles, then kisses me. I kiss her back, but I want to enjoy the view a little longer so I push her back and up.
She is wearing the nipple rings I gave her. The diamonds are surrounding her nipples and the rings are helping to keep her nipples hard, and I love it. Though the rings are a little small, when my tongue grazes one she trembles, and I know they’re super sensitive and I like it, and I’m glad she does too.
She arches her back so that her chest is thrust forward, and I take that as my cue to continue. I take ahold of both of them and bring her to me, licking, kissing and sucking. She moans, and my erection strains against my pants.
My hands come away from her breasts and slide along the soft skin of her body, and she shivers and I can feel the goose bumps rise along her skin. My hands slide around to her back, and I feel a very soft ribbon along her back and my finger traces the line. “Something blue,” she breathes.
“Something borrowed?” I ask.
“The comb in my hair.”
“Something new?”
“My ring, my dress, my panties.” She smirks and kisses me.
Our dance of kisses and tongues continues until I can’t take it anymore and I need her, so I roll her over onto her back, and now I am hovering over her, holding my weight above her, and she arches her back, desperate to feel me against her. I look down the line of her body, beautiful and glowing. Her bump is more pronounced, sexier than anything I could’ve ever imagined, and I begin kissing my way down her body until my tongue finds her warm, wet center, and she comes apart under my tongue.
I roll her over slightly and bend her leg so she can brace herself, and I begin kissing along the curve of her hip, down along her back, until my mouth finds the end of one of her ribbons and I pull. The ribbon comes undone, and I take it in my hand and gently pull, watching as goose bumps form again as she feels the silky ribbon sliding along her back. She moans, and my hands begin to glide along her body and I roll her back over. She props herself up on her elbows. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” she breathes, and I stand up, unbuttoning my pants and finally freeing my straining erection. I lean over her and hook her white lacy panties in my hand, and she lifts her hip. I slide them down her legs and add them to the growing pile of clothes on the floor.
She slides up the bed and I watch her move. She is so beautiful and it’s hard to believe that she’s my wife. These last six months have been a whirlwind of ups and downs. But the ups definitely outweigh the downs, and I love her more every day.
Soon we will be parents and will be living lives with careers and a family, both of which I never imagined I’d have in my life, but now that I do, it’s heady, overwhelming, but oh so amazing.
I climb up onto the bed between her waiting legs, and in a matter of moments, I am sliding home. “You’re my life. You are my everything. You are my wife and I have never felt more complete. I love you, Cameron Michaels.” I kiss her slowly, full of passion and needy desire. Her answering kiss is just as strong and powerful, and I am lost to her, lost in her, and I never want to be found.
FORTY-NINE
May 28th, 2013
Five Months Later
The last five months have been pure bliss. Tristan, my husband — that still sounds strange, but it is a very good strange to hear — has been my everything. He’s been there every day, and in everyway possible, and we’ve never had a fight that we haven’t bounced back from stronger.
I’m a whale — or at least I feel that way, and for good reason. Yesterday was my due date, but nope; this stubborn little one is deciding to hang out a little longer. I was relieved when I didn’t go into labor yesterday, if only for the reason that I didn’t want a beautiful day to be tainted by the memory of two years ago. The day that Bobby, my father, disappeared from this world. Sure, if you would’ve asked me back in December how I felt about it, I’d have told you I didn’t care. But since Tristan and I were married on Tarah’s beach five months ago, Bobby and I have grown closer than we ever were.
Though our communication is severely limited and consists of emails, we communicate nearly every day, and it is an amazing feeling.
Life around us is blooming and blossoming. Mick an
d Beau were married on Valentine’s Day, just like they wanted, and what made it even more special was that they were married at Blu Phoenix, our jointly owned bar that is now open and booming with business. Tristan arranged to have two private shows play opening weekend with two of Nashville’s biggest stars. It was perfect and beautiful, and ever since then we’ve had artists dying to play our intimate little venue, and Blu Phoenix is turning a major profit.
Tristan and I now live nearly fulltime in Los Angeles. Though I’m not a fan of it, our house is nearly done, our baby is almost here, and he is busy acting in and producing Finding Forever. Complements of a great working relationship with the writing staff on the movie, he’s made some changes to the script, changes that are more like our own life than they were before. Though I have to admit, the original script was pretty damn close. After I read it, I understood a lot more about Tristan and how he feels about me and why things were and remain so important to him.
We were able to wait until award season to announce our marriage and pregnancy, and since then I’ve gained my own celebrity, both in fashion and in the fact that I’m Mrs. Tristan Michaels. Quietly leaving the house we’re renting has been more of a challenge due to the impending “baby watch.”
“Oomph,” I groan as another contraction strikes. I check my watch, a beautiful Rolex given to me by my husband on our one-month anniversary and also as a first-day-on-the-job gift. Eight minutes. It might be time to start making some phone calls.
I click the intercom button on my phone. “Rayne, can you come in here, please?”
“Yes, ma’am.” After two heartbeats, she is in my office.
“I need the car,” I say to her.
“Is it time?” I nod. “Yes, ma’am. Do you need help?” I shake my head and she leaves. I stand, grabbing my phone, and I dial Vinnie’s extension.
“Hello, Cami.”
“Hi, Vinnie, can you grab Trinity and come into my office, ASAP?”
“On our way,” he says, and he hangs up.
It doesn’t take but a couple of minutes for them to arrive, and when they do, I am leaning over the desk, breathing slowly through another contraction.
“You all right?” Vinnie asks.
I nod, rather dramatically, then look at my watch. Still eight minutes. Good.
“The car is here,” Rayne says as she comes into my office.
“Thank you,” I say as my contraction calms down.
“You two are in charge. I’ll let you know what happens, or at least after it’s happened. But don’t expect me back until at least August.”
“Absolutely. You need some help?” Vinnie says, concerned. I look at my watch.
“Nope, I have about six and a half minutes before another one strikes and I’m sure Rayne is holding the elevator.” I grab my bag from the table behind my desk and walk toward them. “I’ll let you know when I’m available for emergency situations, and you can draw up a press release once Tristan, the baby and I are at home.” I look at my watch. Less than six minutes now.
“Good luck,” Trinity says, and I smile at her and Vinnie as I leave my office. Rayne, as I expected, is holding the elevator for me.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” she asks when I step inside.
“I’m great, and going to have a baby. But I don’t need a scene outside.”
She nods and the doors close. I pull my phone from my purse and check my watch. Four minutes.
I clear the elevator, walking as quickly and as tall as I can manage. I don’t need anyone in the lobby or out on the sidewalk to suspect anything other than that I’m leaving the office. It’s three in the afternoon.
I climb inside the car. “Cedars-Sinai,” I tell the driver, and I look at my watch. One minute.
I look at my phone and the picture of Tristan and me on our wedding day. It’s one of our shots from the penthouse. Tristan is down on his knees, holding my belly in his hands, looking up at me as he kisses my bump. Breathe, Cams.
Eight minutes.
The contraction passes a little faster than the last one did. But I keep an eye on my watch, concerned the next one might be coming faster. I press Tristan’s name, and the phone starts to ring. No answer, as I expected. He is deep in filming Finding Forever. I try Travis, who is also in the movie. No answer. “Oh, for hell.” Now Tyson.
“Cami, are you all right?”
“Nope, I’m headed to the hospital now.”
“How far apart?”
We’ve practiced this a million times. “Eight minutes, but getting stronger. Where is he?”
“He’s filming, but he saw me answer the phone. I’m looking at him now.”
“What’s he look like?”
“Total panic mode.” He laughs and I join him.
“No panicking, it’s not allowed.”
“Good luck with that one, darlin’,” he says. “We will be on our way.”
“See you soon.”
We hang up. I call Beau.
“Finally,” she says into the phone, and I laugh. I look at my watch, and nearly five minutes have passed already.
“Forgone conclusion.”
“So you’re not in labor?”
I laugh. “Yes, I am.”
“Yay!” she shouts. “We’re on our way.”
We hang up.
Mick and Beau are in Phoenix, but a flight leaves Phoenix like every half hour, so I have no doubt they will be airborne within the hour and at the hospital within three. Which should still be plenty of time.
Tristan and I still do not know what we are having. We both decided that there are very few surprises in life and that this should be one of the few we keep ahold of. Breathe.
I check my watch: six minutes. I breathe through the contraction, which is stronger and more painful than the last.
The car pulls up in front of the hospital and I can see photographers off in the distance. “Shit. Can you go inside, act normal, and grab a nurse or three?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He climbs out of the car. This baby is the hottest ticket in Hollywood right now and I’m hoping like hell we can get inside quickly.
My driver returns with three nurses in tow. I open the door. “Are you all right?” the nurse asks.
“Yes, I’m in labor, but I need a screen. I don’t need the paparazzi catching this.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the nurse says. They are well-versed in celebrity arrivals and they manage to extract me from the car and get me into the wheelchair without alerting the press. We’re inside and on our way to Labor and Delivery in no time flat.
******
Tristan
******
I’m wringing my hands together as Tyson drives to the hospital. To say that I’m freaking out is probably an understatement. It’s time, it is finally time to meet my son — or daughter — and... “Oh my God, I’m freaking out.”
Tyson laughs. “She’ll do great, you’ll do great. Just relax.”
I start to think about all the things we’re not ready for. The house isn’t done; the nursery certainly isn’t done. But our rental is well-prepared for Baby Michaels’s arrival, and I relax a little.
We’ve been filming my scenes nonstop since we got here. I made it very clear to them that I would be taking off for a few days when the time came, and they were understanding and made some adjustments. We finished nearly all of my scenes, and I wasn’t on set when Tyson got the call, but I didn’t have my phone.
“We’re almost there,” Tyson says. “I’ll pull into the parking garage. Best chance to avoid a scene.”
I nod and hope that Cami got in without one too. My phone doesn’t go off with any new alerts, so I’m assuming we’re still under the radar for now.
We finally arrive and Tyson leaves me to go park the car, and I practically run to the third floor nurses’ station. “Mrs. Michaels?” Both of the nurses stare at me; they know exactly who I am, and I am extremely thankful for patient confidentiality and the fact that they can’t go running to the
press.
“Room three,” the one says, and points to my right. I move quickly to the door of the room and I hear some commotion inside; I open the door and Cami is there on the bed. Her knees are up and there is a nurse between her legs.
“Cams?”
“Hi, beautiful,” she says, and I want to cry. She’s in labor and calls me beautiful.
“Hi beautiful yourself.” I come to stand next to her, opposite the nurse, and she’s pulling her hand out and removing her glove.
“You’re about five and half centimeters,” she says as the glove snaps, and I jump. I feel Cami’s hand on mine. Then the sound finally registers: I can hear a heartbeat. It’s quiet, but still there.
I look at Cami and give her the best half smile I can manage. “How are you doing?” I ask her.
“I’m better now.”
“Oh.”
She smiles wide. “Epidural.”
I laugh. “Well okay then.” She looks to her right.
“Watch the top line.” I do, and it is nearly peaked at the top. “That is a contraction, and I am feeling nothing except a little pressure.”
“How far apart?”
“About three minutes.”
The nurse comes over to the bed; she is holding something that looks a little like a crochet hook. “I’m going to break your water. You won’t feel too much, but the contractions should increase in frequency and they will intensify.” I watch as the nurse goes back to where she was when I came in and does something, then I hear a popping sound of sorts. “Nice and clear. Don’t move, we’ll change the sheets under you.”
Cami grunts a little and I look at her. “She wasn’t kidding. Feel?” she says, taking my hands. She places them on her belly, and it is hard as a rock. But after a few heartbeats it softens a little. I don’t remove my hands because I’m looking at Cami; then suddenly her belly hardens again and I look to the contraction monitor and, sure enough, she is peaking again.
