Chapter 44
forty-four
Willow
Forget my friends’ idea for an anniversary vow renewal—which caught me totally by surprise—this wedding is just massive foreplay. When we’re not glued to each other on the dance floor, Noah’s hands are on my thigh. On my bare shoulder. Lightly squeezing my nape. Down my bare back.
When we’re finally in our bedroom, he locks the door and growls, “Where were we,” as he firmly presses me against the wall and drives his hand up between my thighs. I know exactly what part of the evening he’s talking about. The one where he had me half-naked against the farm wall.
Wetness pools between my legs as my mind insists on holding on to the suggestion Kiara made that we have a renewal of vows. Any lingering doubts I may have had of Noah’s true love for me disappeared at his murmured “that’s a great idea” and it’s not impossible I’ve been planning—
“Spread for me,” Noah orders, throwing his glasses on the couch. His white shirt is open at the collar, sleeves rolled up, hair messed up from our heavy kissing in the car, a walking sex symbol.
“Show me how wet you are.” His gaze dark with desire, he dips down and suckles my neck while his fingers plunge into me.
All thoughts of any conversation gone, I hike one leg over his hips, straddling his thigh to ease my need. I might come just looking at his corded nape flexing as he dips deeper, giving my nipple a bite through the fabric.
“Surprised that little dress of yours isn’t soaked through.”
It’s been a concern of mine, too, but not anymore. “You like that dress?” I whisper in his ear, wanting him to talk dirty to me.
He grunts as he lifts his head back up, lust hotter than I’ve ever seen. “Such a fucking tease.” With anxious hands he pulls on my updo, hairpins flying out, then kneads my head, combs through my hair with strong fingers, inhaling it with a touch of mad obsession.
My fingers fumble with his leather belt, my pussy clenching at the sound of the pant zipper I pull down, freeing his bobbing cock. Finally holding him in my hand, I stroke him, my thumb pad wiping precum. I give him a last stroke, then lock eyes with him as I lick my thumb.
He jerks my hand out of my mouth and gathers my wrists above my head.
“Spread for me.” I hike my leg higher on him.
His jaw grazes my forehead, shivers from his stubble running down my spine.
His breath is labored. “That’s my good little wife.
Take it,” he says as he enters me, his heat and friction making my knees weak. “Take your husband deep.”
“Harder, Noah, harder.”
Something dangerous passes through his gaze. “Careful what you wish for.” Something I could get addicted to.
“P-please.”
He cups my throat in a careful hand. “Yeah, beg for me, little wife. Beg.” His thumb rakes my ear, his palm clenching for an answer.
“Please fuck me harder,” I whisper, straining to keep my eyes open to watch his desire, his need for me.
He rams into me, neck tense, jaw set, beads of sweat pearling on his forehead. “Such a sweet, sweet, cunt.” With his free hand he unzips my dress. “Greedy little cunt.” Then he cups my ass, the fabric of the dress messing with our connection.
The tear of fabric.
He pulls himself back an inch or two, looks down at my naked body wrapped around his, shreds of my dress on the floor. “That’s better.”
He’s still fully clothed, dress pants straining at his hips, formal shirt clinging to his sweaty torso as he fists my hair, pulling my mouth to his. “God I love how you taste,” he murmurs. “I love everything about you.”
“Babe,” I blabber. My orgasm is so strong it strikes me like lightning, arches my back, stretches my legs, interminable seconds of high-strung pleasure followed by the softest mellowing.
Limbs like cotton, mind checked out, I feel Noah carrying me to the bed.
“Fuck, that was beautiful.” He fans my hair around my face on the pillow.
With weak hands, I start to unbutton his shirt.
He sits up. “Let me,” I say, sitting up to face him.
“Let me undress my husband.” Making quick work of the rest of the buttons, I run my hands on his torso, from his pecs down to the dusting of hair.
I press one finger on him and he lets himself fall back, hands behind his head, a small smile on his face.
He toes his shoes off while I get him quickly entirely naked, then kiss my way up his thighs.
My mouth closes on his dick, and he hisses. “I’m not gonna last long,” he says.
I lock eyes with him. “Then let’s make it count. I heard someone liked my ass,” I say as I straddle him reverse cowgirl.
“Ah fuck, babe.” He grabs my butt cheeks in his hands, then sits up to grope my breasts. His mouth comes down. “On your knees,” he orders.
That’s fast becoming my favorite three words.
The mattress dips beside me as the aroma of coffee dispels my dreams. I open an eye and see Noah in pajama pants, the Mrs. Callaway mug of coffee in his hand, lid off, that dusting of hair on his stomach teasing me awake. “Hey,” I say, smiling.
“Hey yourself.” He places the coffee on the nightstand and kisses me softly, then brings me against his chest, stroking my hair on my bare back. “You okay?” he asks, his voice unsteady.
I look up at him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
His eyes seem to search something in my gaze. “I don’t know—I… the wedding… yesterday…” He blinks sadness away. “I wish I’d given you that.”
I cup his face, stroking his stubble, the pad of my thumb on his lower lip.
“Noah… You’ve given me so much more. Do you know how much it means to me that you let me hold you at night?
That you’re trusting me with the family store?
” I’m so absurdly happy that he has a tight prenup which gives me absolutely no right in the estate.
I love Noah for who he is, not what he has.
I don’t care about things. More often than not, they come between people.
“You gave me a whole family, and your heart. I never dared dream of that.”
He leans in for a deep kiss.
Before too long we’re interrupted by a series of soft knocks at the door. “That’ll be Lucius,” he says with a chuckle.
Lucius is the second-floor robot vacuum cleaner. Edward is in charge of the first floor, and Rosalie the upstairs.
“Did I tell you Zach is working on a staircase model?” Noah asks as he dips his kisses from my neck to my breasts.
“I’m sure he is,” I breathe. “Adapting his stair-climbing wheelchair contraption to the little guys?”
“Something like that.”
After a quick shower, we come downstairs late and walk up to brunch set up on the patio. Calla and the pups greet us with wagging tails. Across the garden, Beck comes out of the barn, scratching his belly as he stretches.
Lane is at the table, reading a book. She smiles feebly at us. This must mean she’s going through with sharing her personal news this morning. I want to tell her it’ll be alright, because I know it will. But I can understand her apprehension.
“What happened to you, Lanie?” Noah asks as we take in the basket of fresh croissants, the apple cider donuts, the steaming coffee pot. He leans over her to kiss the top of her head. “Didn’t party hard enough last night? Or are you too used to hangovers now?”
She shrugs. “I was up early, so I took Myrtle to see her future house, and Chris sent me back with all this. One thing led to another…” She glances at me nervously, a small smile on her face. No hangover for her, but her brothers don’t know why yet.
“Myrtle?” Beck asks, ruffling Muffin’s hair as the pup jumps to greet him. “I thought Muffin was called Muffin because he was going to live at the bakery.”
I laugh. “Nope. Skye said Muffin was a great name but it couldn’t be her dog’s name.
” I count on my fingers all the reasons she came up with.
“It’s too obvious for a bakery. The dog would be confused every time they talked about muffins.
And finally, she decided Muffin was a boy name, and she bonded with our little girl pup from the beginning. ”
“Myrtle sure liked the smells there,” Lane says, petting the dog. “They already have a system to keep her out of the bakery.”
Noah strokes my forearm. “Whenever you’re ready, then,” Noah says.
I take a deep inhale, trying to organize my thoughts. It’s hard for me to accept that Myrtle should move to her new home. Yet I know it’s time.
“You’re going to be uncles,” Lane blurts, interrupting my train of thoughts.
Beck, eyes bloodshot, high-fives his brother. “Dude, good job.” Then he turns to his sister. “Wait. How d’you know?”
Noah, his hand still up from the surprise high-five, glances at me with a frown, then moves his gaze to his sister, his forehead smoothing as understanding dawns on him.
I place my hand on his thigh and give him a squeeze. Shock and a thousand questions are painted on his face. As he clears his throat to talk, Lane shoots him a warning look.
Before he can say anything, I stand, round the table, and pull her into a hug.
“That’s wonderful news, honey.” I lock eyes with Noah over her shoulder, watching him as he rubs the spot where his glasses normally rest, then relaxes as he realizes it’s really not the end of the world.
It’s actually the beginning of a new one.
“How the fuck did that happen?” Beck blurts as he catches up.
“You missed the lesson on the birds and the bees?” I tease him as I release Lane.
“Fuck,” Beck says. “I did not see that coming.” He leans over the table. “Are you okay?” His gaze searches his sister’s.
She gives him nothing for a beat or two, until her eyes brighten and she bites her trembling lip. “I’m fine,” she whispers.
He stands abruptly, Muffin scurrying from under his chair with a soft yelp, and rounds the table to take Lane in his arms. “Who’s the fu—the father?” he asks as he nearly smothers her.
I’m not surprised by Beck’s reaction. He’s always acting a little goofy and immature, but he loves fiercely. I’m convinced his mostly irreverent attitude is a front to hide how big his heart is.
“I don’t wanna talk about him,” Lane says, her voice muffled from Beck’s embrace. “Not yet.”
Beck takes a long inhale, clearly struggling to keep his opinions to himself—and mostly succeeding. Finally, he pulls back from her. “You need me to talk to him, just say the word.”
Lane wipes a tear. “I’m fine, really. I don’t know why I got all emotional all of a sudden.” She smiles brightly at Beck, then turns a hesitant gaze to Noah.
Noah stands to hug her while Beck sits back down. “Congratulations, Laney.” He strokes her back. “What do you need from me?” Noah, always the caretaker.
“Just maybe more of your hugs,” she murmurs, nestling deeper in her older brother’s comforting embrace. I know everything that’s going on in my husband’s mind right now, how worried he must be for her. I’m so proud of how he’s handling it.
Noah rocks her gently. “I’ll always be there for you.”
“I know,” she whispers back. “Thank you.”
I refill everyone’s hot drinks while Noah sits back down, and we all take a deep breath.
Lane glances at me, mouthing thank you and giving me a small but genuine smile.
I smile back at her. Is it crazy that I can’t wait to hold her baby in my arms?
I held Ivy at Alex and Chris’s, and it was just the most overwhelmingly loving experience ever.
“So, what’s the plan?” Beck asks.
As Lane explains how she’ll be working from home for a while, Beck goes into builder mode, verbally drawing a sketch of where he could install a nursery and a home office in the other aisle of Lilyvale.
“How about health care?” Noah asks. “And an ob-gyn. You need to get on that tomorrow. Maybe this place in South Burlington where Alex went. Chris said they were great. We can ask about doulas and midwives around here. You need to get your team together.”
Lane glances at me, and I smile back at her, blowing her a kiss. She’s getting everything she needs from her family right now, and I couldn’t be happier that I’m part of it.
“Lane will be alright,” I say to Noah that afternoon. We’re on a long walk up Hunger Path with the dogs while Beck and Lane are taking measurements and discussing the ideal orientation for the nursery.
He barely reciprocates my tug when I slide my hand in his. “Yeah. Eventually.”
“Oh, honey. It’s not the end of the world.”
“Isn’t it, though? For her? God knows I was hoping she’d stay in Emerald Creek. Do something here. But not like that. Not as a fall back.” A small animal rustles in the fallen leaves, and Muffin barks, looking at his mother.
I take a deep breath. “She’ll be fine.” In the end.
A cloud obscures the sky, and I wrap my shawl tighter around my shoulders.
“And who’s the father? And what’s that shit about not wanting to talk about him?!” Noah continues.
Good question. “She’ll come around.” I hope. “Give her a little time. It’s a shock to you, so imagine how she feels.”
“You’re right.” He wraps his warm arm around my shoulders and kisses the top of my head. “Why would she have unprotected sex with someone who’s not fit to be a father?”
“No birth control is one hundred percent fail-proof,” I answer, feeling the need to defend her. We keep walking in silence, watching the dogs sniff around, hearing only the sound of fallen leaves cracking under our hiking boots.
“How long have you known?” Noah asks, glancing at me.
Does he feel left out? I never want to come between him and Lane. “Just for a few days. She needed to talk and—”
“It’s fine.” Noah’s gaze is intense on me. “It’s great, actually. I’m… Without a mother, or another sister, you’re all she has, babe.”
His emotion seeps into me. “She has you, too, and Beck. Maternity is not only a woman’s thing.” His reaction about putting her birth team together alone proves that Noah gets it.
“I know. It’s just… you’re so easy to talk to. I can be a bit stiff, and Beck is always looking either for a prank or a fight. I see how you are with her when you guys talk about her job search. She needs someone who will just listen.”
“Now that you have the whole picture, it’ll be easier for you to understand her.”
We reach the high point of our trek and stop on the flat top of the hill.
As we catch our breaths, we take in the scenery at our feet.
Emerald Creek, nestled in a bend of the eponymous river, plumes of smoke billowing from a few chimneys, the delicate peals of the church chiming the top of the hour wafting to us.
Even Calla and the pups are taken by the serenity of the moment. They’re quiet and almost still.
Calla turns her big head to me, and I swear… she’s smiling.