45. Kai
Cordelia is sitting on the sectional with her feet kicked up, eating ice cream out of the container while watching TV. When we got back from the church a few days ago, I started reevaluating the security of this house. Cordi’s questions made me think about how secure this one is. It has good vantage points based on the way it sits, but it’s not perfect, and I need to improve it before the baby.
I grab a spoon and sit down next to my wife, digging into the strawberry ice cream. I swear she hardly notices I’m here because her eyes are glued to…the shirtless Thor on the TV. I slip the spoon in my mouth as I look between the TV and Cordi as she watches.
“You know, babe, I have a six-pack, too, if you want to stare at it. All you have to do is ask.”
Cordi nods absently as she takes another spoonful of ice cream. She’s always been like this with movies she likes. She gets locked in, and it takes some random thing to pull her out.
I take another spoonful of ice cream and slowly slide my hand up her thigh. She shifts but doesn’t seem to care. I like that she wears dresses a lot. She says it’s easier than trying to find pants, but I just consider it easier access.
Stopping my hand at the apex of her thighs, I watch for any sign of life, and her eyes slowly turn to mine. “If you’re going to start something, then you better make sure you can finish it, daredevil,” she taunts.
I graze my fingers across her, and she gets another spoonful of ice cream. “Is that a dare?” I ask her.
Her lips wrap around the spoon, and she crooks an eyebrow, then dips into her ice cream again.
“I don’t know, Kai, is it?” I grab the pint of ice cream from her hands and stab the spoon into it, setting it on the coffee table. Every movement basically hurts all the time, but I don’t care. I’ve developed a high pain tolerance over the years. But most of all, I miss my wife. I pull her feet so she’s lying on her side and lie on the edge of the sofa next to her, pressing every inch of my body against hers.
She delicately drags her hand up my side, and I fight the shiver rolling up my spine and grab her chin to pull her in. Cordi leans into the kiss, and without thinking, my hand goes to the back of her head, dragging my hand through her hair.
She smiles against my mouth and says, “I missed you.”
I nibble her lower lip and kiss her. “I’ve missed you, too.” I slide my fingers over her again, and she sighs into the touch.
Cordi reaches for my shorts and pushes them down as I kick them off. They go sailing somewhere across the coffee table. “Help me,” she commands, trying to straddle my thighs. I grab her thigh while she leans onto my shoulders. I sit up so my back is against the couch, and my feet are on the rug.
Sliding my hands back under her dress, she grabs the hem and pulls it over her head, tossing it off to the side. Her seven-month pregnant belly keeps us apart but doesn’t stop Cordi. She grabs me and, without any warning, seats herself, making both of us groan at the same time. “I’m going to need a nap after this,” she sighs and moves her hips. I burst out laughing, and she smiles, kissing my bobbing throat. “I love that sound,” she says into my ear before nipping the lobe.
“And I like this one,” I say, thrusting my hips up. Her head tilts back on a moan, and we forget everything else going on for the moment. I make love with my wife, memorizing every movement and gasp of the way her beautiful body moves. I am in awe of her. I finally have a sense of hope that everything could be finally falling into place.
***
I hear a low beep and jackknife out of bed. The perimeter security. If something that weighs more than ten pounds crosses it, the low tone alerts me. It’s low enough that anyone outside wouldn’t hear it.
Someone is here.
I check my phone, hoping it’s my brothers, while grabbing my pistol from the bedside table and rifle from under it. No texts. It’s not them. I quickly type out our distress text and send it. Then I lean over to Cordi and cover her mouth so she doesn’t speak. Her eyes spring open, and she grabs my wrist until she realizes it’s me. I lean into her ear and whisper, “Someone is here. Get in the bathroom and grab the shotgun from behind the door. If I am not back in ten minutes, call the police. You do not open that door unless it is me, my brothers, or the police. Do you understand?” She nods under my hand, and I pull away. I look at her one more time with her glittering eyes staring back at me. I hate that this could be what I think it is. I will die before I let them get to her and my boy.