The Hero and the Fat Girl (New Hampshire Bears #3)

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The Hero and the Fat Girl (New Hampshire Bears #3) Page 16

by Mary Smith


  “Ditto. Stand up.” He lightly pushes me up, and I reach for my clothes, but he tells me to leave them. “We’re going to shower,” he says as he rises off the couch.

  “Together.” I gasp.

  He smirks and takes my hand, leading me to the bathroom. “Maybe we can use the tub next time.” He kisses me lightly on the lips.

  He goes into the bedroom and grabs our bag of toiletries. I stand in the bathroom, shaking slightly. I’ve had sex with him, but a shower seems so intimate, and I’m nervous.

  “Hey.” He places our items on the counter and takes me in his arms. “What’s wrong?”

  “Another first,” I simply say.

  “Do you not want to?”

  “I do, but I feel very exposed,” I tell him truthfully.

  “It’s just me.” He kisses my forehead. “No one else. I’ll take care of you.”

  I nod, laying my head on his chest. I remain there for a good minute as he rubs his hands up and down my back, calming me.

  “I’m ready.” I pull away from him.

  “Okay.” He smiles.

  Remington turns on the shower full blast. It’s a rainfall shower head with six shower jets along each wall.

  “Ready?” He steps in and holds out his hand for me.

  I place mine in his, and he gently pulls me into the warm shower. All the shower heads massage my skin, making me loosen up a bit.

  “I’ll wash your hair.”

  I turn my back to Remington. He positions me under the shower head, wetting my hair. After he lathers it, rinses it, and pulls me against him, I tense up. My back is on his chest. I can’t see his face.

  “Want to try something new?”

  I’m not sure exactly what he means.

  “Put your hands on the wall.” His tone is gentle but firm.

  I do and try to control my breathing. I’m not sure if this is a good idea or not.

  “Relax,” he whispers in my ear.

  The water still sprays around us. Remington first works my breasts, tugging on my nipples. My body, on it’s own, pushes against him. He lightly nips my collarbone and trails his fingers down my stomach, finding the spot where I ache the most.

  “I’m going to slide inside you.” He pushes in between my legs. Remington grunts, and suddenly, it’s him in my ear.

  I gasp and tense up. “Stop.”

  Instantly, Remington releases me and steps back. “Are you okay?” He gently turns me around. “Are you okay?” He repeats his question.

  “I have to see your face,” I blurt out, and tears fill my eyes.

  “Okay, I understand. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking clearly.” He hugs me. “I’m sorry.”

  I nod, and we finish our shower. Remington dries me off, even my hair. He helps me get into the fluffy white robe.

  “I should apologize to you.” I sit on the edge of the bed.

  “Why? You have nothing to apologize for.” He sits next to me. “I pushed, and I knew better.”

  “If I see your face, I don’t have any flashbacks,” I explain. “When you grunted near my ear, I couldn’t see your face. It reminded me…” I trail off. I don’t want to ruin our time together, even though I’m pretty sure I already have.

  “Maxima, you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. I should have known better. It’s my fault. Not yours.”

  I nod. “I’ll try to be better.’

  “Huh? Better at what?”

  “You know…sex…things…positions you like.” I try not to blush, but this is something we need to talk about.

  “Our sex life and positions are just fine. Trust me. I think the only thing we need to talk about is birth control. I’m assuming you’re on the pill. I can’t feel a diaphragm or IUD. We most definitely haven’t used a condom.” He chuckles.

  I pale. How is it I can be smart and such a buffoon at the same time? This is something I should have told him day one. I stare at him, opening and closing my mouth several times, trying to find the right words.

  “What is it?” He furrows his brow. “Tell me, Maxima.”

  “I can’t.” I shake my head with a large lump in my throat, cutting off my words.

  “You vowed not to keep any secrets from me. I can handle anything you tell me.” He takes my hands in his. “Just open to me.’

  “I can’t have kids.”

  Remington’s face drops, and the sadness is clear on his face. I’ve disappointed him.

  “I bled a lot after I had the abortion. When I was finally able to make it to a real OB/GYN appointment, she told me there was a lot of scaring. I wouldn’t be able to have kids.”

  He remains quiet.

  “I should have told you. I swear with everything going on, I forget to mention it. I’m so sorry.”

  He nods.

  “You can be mad at me Remington.”

  “I’m not mad. I am sad because I always pictured myself having more children.” The pain in his tone breaks my heart. “However, Arabella is very full of life, and I’m sure she’ll keep us on our toes for the rest our lives.” He gives me a hopeful smile.

  “Not the greatest way to start a honeymoon, is it?” I try to joke, but it doesn’t come off like it.

  “This is the greatest honeymoon.” He kisses me fully. “How about we get dressed and explore? Maybe find some food?”

  “Sounds good.”

  We spend the rest of the day, and into early evening, shopping, eating at a small diner, and exploring the town of Lincoln. The morning fiasco seems behind us. We hold hands, kiss, and act like every other married couple in the world.

  It’s perfection.

  “You think Arabella will like these?” I spread out the three outfits we got her.

  “Yep.” He stretches out on the other side of the bed. “She’ll love it just because you gave it to her.”

  I smile. “You don’t think it’s because of my impeccable fashion sense?”

  “That too,” he chuckles.

  I fold everything up and lay on the bed, placing my head on Remington’s chest. He rests his hand on my hip, making me feel secure.

  “I had fun today. Thank you.”

  “Me too.” He kisses me.

  Even though it isn’t late, my eyes grow heavy, and soon, I’m fast asleep.

  Chapter Twelve

  Remington

  I cut into my waffle as I try not to drool while staring at my beautiful wife. We both fell asleep and slept until almost dawn. I can’t remember sleeping that long…ever.

  So we find a restaurant and order a big breakfast. But my eyes are still on Maxima. She’s wearing a sleeveless blouse, and she left the top two buttons open, allowing me to gaze at her sexy cleavage.

  Damn, she’s making me hard.

  “Can I get you two anything else?” the waitress asks.

  “No, I think we’re good,” Maxima answers, and the waitress leaves us alone. “Do you have any plans for us today?”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “Well,” she hides her smile behind her hand. “I bought a swimsuit yesterday. Maybe we can lounge poolside for a bit?”

  “Perfect.” Seeing Maxima in a swimsuit will be the highlight of the day.

  I pay for the bill before I drive us back to the hotel. She changes in the bathroom, and I’m glad I brought my swim trunks. Actually, I’m glad she suggested this because I really had no plans. Well, maybe sex, but I doubt I should blurt that out.

  I fucked up yesterday trying a new position on her, and I knew better, but my dick was thinking for me, and I had no self-control. I tell her repeatedly I won’t hurt her, but then I pull some bullshit that ends up scaring the shit out of her.

  The hardest part of the day was her telling me she couldn’t have children. I wanted more kids, especially with Maxima, but if it isn’t meant to be, I’ll be okay with it. I have to be.

  “Ready?”

  I turn and see Maxima standing near the couch, but in a dress.

  “Where’s your suit?”<
br />
  “Under my cover-up.” She points. “But I’m hoping I don’t look bad in it. I can’t remember the last time I was in a bathing suit.”

  “You’re going to be stunning.” I take her in my arms. “I dare anyone to say differently because I’ll break their nose.”

  “My hero.” She smirks, giving me a small kiss.

  “My wife.” I peck her one more time. “Let’s head down.”

  The pool isn’t crowded considering how hot it is. One of the attendants told us there weren’t a lot of people at the resort this week.

  I find us two lounge chairs. I pull my t-shirt off and stretch out on one. My eyes land on Maxima as she removes her cover-up.

  Holy shit.

  Maxima is in a one-piece black polka dot swimsuit. The back is open all the way past the small of her back. Her curves and breasts are perfection, and I have to adjust myself and pull my eyes away before I leap on her right now, in public.

  “Would you please put lotion on my back?” She’s holding a tube of sunscreen.

  “Sure.” I swing around and she sits on the edge of my lounger. As I rub the lotion in, I think of everything else but her soft skin and banging curves.

  “Thank you.” She finishes her legs and arms and then stretches out on her lounger.

  I study her thick thighs, small waist, flat stomach, and the best breasts God gave any woman. I close my eyes and just focus on the heat on my skin. I slow my breathing because if I keep thinking of how amazing Maxima’s body is, I’m going to blow in my trunks.

  “Were you wild and crazy in college?” Maxima’s question make me pop my eyes open.

  “What?”

  “You heard me.” She rolls onto her front, letting her back get some sun.

  “No, not really.” I turn on my front. “Hockey was where I spent most of my time.”

  “You didn’t graduate, right?”

  “No, I was drafted by the Liberty Eagles and moved to Maine.”

  “Then you met Rickie.” It’s not a question.

  “Yep.” I nod. “You know the rest.”

  “I do.” She rests her chin on the back of her hand, facing forward. She’s quiet for a few seconds before asking, “What’s your number?”

  I stare at her for a second. “You mean what I think you mean, right?”

  She turns to me. “Yes.”

  “Seven.”

  “Really? Only seven?” she actually gasps.

  “I’m not a man whore.” I chuckle.

  “I didn’t mean you were.” She blushes. “I thought it’d be more.”

  I shake my head. “I lost my virginity to the girl I dated in high school. Lasted less than a minute, if I remember right.” She giggles. “There were two girls in college. Both of whom I dated. Rickie, and after her, I dated a chick in Liberty for a bit. Then, when I was traded here, there was someone for a sort while, but it wasn’t serious. Mainly, just fun. You’re lucky seven.”

  She bites her lip. “I like number seven.”

  “I love number seven.”

  Maxima blushes.

  “Hey, since this is our last night, you want to grab dinner somewhere fancy?”

  “I didn’t pack anything for it. I thought maybe ordering in and just watching the sunset. If you want.”

  “That sounds much better than my idea.”

  She smiles and then faces forward, closing her eyes and relaxing. As do I.

  Dinner has been the best. My steak is cooked to perfection with all the trimmings. Maxima says the same about her chicken parmesan. We’ve already finished one bottle of wine, and I’m opening the second one as we head out to the balcony. The moon is just beginning to shine as I take a seat. We had missed the official sunset, but it’s fine.

  “May I?” Maxima asks pointing at my lap.

  “You want to sit here?”

  “Never mind, I’m too heavy.” She starts to sit next to me, but I tug on her arm.

  “Sit on me. You’re not too heavy. Stop saying that.” She snuggles closer to me.

  “It’s hard for me, baby.”

  I know she’s tipsy when baby comes out her mouth.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m fat.”

  I sigh deeply. I push a strand of hair away from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. “Explain to me why you think you’re fat.”

  “Well,” she toys with the button on my shirt. “After my abortion, I ate. It sounds strange to some, but I’m an emotional water. I fell into a deep depression, but continued to go to school. I’d found a job working in a copy room and kept eating. I reached two hundred and fifty pounds. My health got worse, but I didn’t care.”

  “But you started losing weight.” I hold her tighter. “How come?”

  “When I moved to Manchester and got my job at the firm, I began to feel a little more normal. I started going to the doctor regularly, and I was being diagnosed with all sorts of stuff. The prescriptions were piling up, and I realized I didn’t want that to be the way I went out. Caryn was a huge help as well.” She rest her head on my shoulder.

  “I’m glad you’re here.” I kiss her forehead.

  “I can’t believe we’re married.” She giggles. “Oh baby, that means I have to change my name.” She sits up.

  “You can if you want.”

  “You don’t want me to?” She tilts her head.

  “I would like you to, but I’m a man of the modern age. Not all women want to change their names. Do you want to?”

  “I do.” She beams. “Maxima Keck has a lot of baggage. Maybe Maxima Rosin will be a whole new beginning.”

  “I like the sound of Maxima Rosin.” I cup her cheek.

  “Me too.” She leans in and kisses me.

  The taste of the sweet wine tickles my tongue, and Maxima grips my shirt tighter. I grab her ass and pull her closer to me. I want to rip her clothes off and pound into her, but I know I can’t…no…I won’t do that to her.

  She pulls away from my lips and cuddles closer to me. I won’t dare tell her my legs are asleep, because I don’t care when she’s this close to me.

  Maxima begins to rattle on about her file copy job in Boston. I’m not sure why she’s telling me every fine pointed detail, but I listen intently. We both polish off another glass of wine each as the moon rises higher in the sky.

  “Take me inside.” Maxima moans against my lips.

  We both rush back inside to the bedroom. I want to do everything to her, but stop when she tugs off her shirt and then her pants. She’s in a deep red lace bra and thong. I’m hard as a rock at just seeing her breathtaking body.

  She steps up to me and unbuttons my shirt, pulling it off. Next, she works on my pants, and within seconds, I’m naked in front of her. She drops to her knees, but I back away from her.

  “Maxima, no.”

  “But I want to try again.” She almost pouts.

  “You can, another time.” I pull her back to her feet. “Tonight, I just want it to be us. Us making love to each other.”

  “You’re a poet.” She giggles.

  “No.” I cup her face. “I’m your hero.”

  Her face is glowing. “You are my hero.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you.”

  For the rest of the night, I showed her just how much I did.

  Maxima lays her head back against the head rest as we cruise down the interstate. She and I haven’t stopped smiling. These couple days together have been wonderful and last night was the best.

  “Remington,” she glances at me.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m sure you think it’s silly for me to call you my hero, but you are. No one, especially a male, has ever been as close to me as you. Since sleeping in your bed, I’ve not woken up screaming from a nightmare. You keep me grounded. Even though, I’m…I guess you can say shy on some subject matters, you bring out a confidence in me I didn’t know existed. Plus, you gave me a family. I love Arabella. I love your parents and sister. I even l
ove your Bears family. I never thought this type of happiness would happen for me. Our relationship might have started out strange, but I believe we can make it for the long haul.”

  Tears spring up in my eyes, and I blink them away. Her confession, her words, rings deep in my soul. Being called a hero, especially from my Maxima, means more to me than anything. Sure, I’ve been called a hero of a game, but this is my wife. My true love.

  “I love you.” Those are the only three words I can manage to get out. I kiss her knuckles and clear my throat. “You know, after Rickie, I never thought I’d find my soul mate. I even began to wonder if all women were like her: liars, cheaters, and just out for money. It’s one reason why I didn’t date a lot after her.”

  “I can understand your reasoning.”

  “I started off wrong, and I’m lucky you gave me another chance to prove I am a good guy and not a liar who only wanted sex from you.” I hope she knows how much I mean every word. It’s the truth. I love her.

  “I may not completely understand why you just didn’t tell me the truth, but Arabella’s well-being will always be first in both of our lives. We both said we would start with a clean slate and we are.” She leans over the console and kisses my cheek. “But just to let you know, I only agreed to marry for the hockey tickets.”

  I burst into laughter, as does she. I have an amazing wife.

  Arabella is practically running circles around us because she is so excited. Mom, Dad, and Cora seem to be the same way, making me wonder how much junk food my family ate while we were gone.

  The next day, I wake up to Maxima cooking breakfast. Mom and Cora are in the kitchen with her, laughing about something, but stop when I come in.

  “Are you telling another childhood story?” I ask, making them laugh again. “That’s a yes.”

  “Oh, I can’t help it. You were a gullible child,” Mom says.

  “He really was,” my sister adds.

  “Hey,” I point to Cora. “You were, too. I had you convinced you were adopted.”

  “You thought you were an alien,” she counters.

  Okay, I can’t argue with her there. She really did convince me, after we watched the movie Aliens. Man, I was gullible.

 

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