Chapter 30 #2
It took us twice as long as it should have to get the tree up, given we took frequent breaks to give each other orgasms, but we got the job done. Not to mention, we even had help from Bob. Thanks to his generosity, three of my bras are artfully draped over our classy Douglas fir.
That definitely made for an interesting conversation with my family when we hosted Christmas Eve dinner at our house a few days ago.
“Sweetheart, I’m glad to see you’ve ‘chilled out’ a bit, like you kids like to say,” Dad had remarked, giving our tree a once-over like a high school mean girl.
“You know, limited checklists, less organizing, fewer over-fluffed pillows . . . all progress.” His eyes slid to the bras dangling off the branches and then to Bob, snoring near the fireplace.
“But letting the dog turn Christmas into a lingerie yard sale might be taking things too far, don’t you think? ”
I’d pursed my lips because what Dad didn’t know was, just that morning, we’d caught Bob marking one of the lower branches with a well-aimed tinkle.
Let’s just say once we cut the branch off and cleaned up the floor, I had to light some additional cinnamon-scented candles just to make the house smell extra festive before everyone arrived.
Patton leans over to glance at the glossy photo spread of us from Cabo with a headline that reads, Hollywood’s Heartthrob Jumps Headfirst into Fatherhood with Estranged Ex.
Despite all the security, the pictures are from our afternoon walk on the beach in Cabo. I wasn’t even showing back then, but sure enough, there’s a red arrow directed at my then-flat belly.
The caption reads: Insiders speculate that the couple is expecting not just one, but three babies!
Could this be a ploy for ex-wife Nisha Arora to claw her way back into the glamorous life of the multi-millionaire, multi-award-winning actor?
Sources say she’s been in dire financial distress, having seen her come out of a homeless shelter.
I snort. “Oh, please. First of all, that wasn’t a baby bump, that was the burrito I inhaled for lunch.
The only real food I was able to keep down all weekend, mind you.
Second, ‘dire financial distress’?! I love how, apparently, I’m gunning for your bank account.
Joke’s on them because I’m only in this for the orgasms and foot massages. ”
Totally not the whole truth, but I can’t deny that the pregnancy hormones have made me insatiable. I literally want the man twenty-four/seven.
Anyway, unlike my sister, who hates everything to do with being in the spotlight, preferring to stay as far away from the media as possible, I’ve never been too bothered.
Even when Patton and I were married, I’d wave at the hidden camera poking out from a bush or smile at the flashing lights when we stepped out for dinner.
It was part of being with someone as high-profile as Patton. It still is.
Do I enjoy being watched or having dumb articles written about me? No, but I also don’t stress about it, and I definitely don’t let it get to me.
For all intents and purposes, they’re just doing their job. Sure, they’re spreading rumors, but in the end, that’s exactly what they are: rumors. As long as the close small circle I trust knows the real me, I don’t give two shits what anyone else thinks.
“Just orgasms and foot massages, huh?” Patton tickles the bottom of my foot, making me squeal. “And here I thought you were with me for my Adonis looks and irresistible personality.”
“Please. Your personality is seventy percent ego and thirty percent historical trivia.”
He clutches his chest like I’ve physically wounded him.
“You’re telling me you didn’t find it fascinating that men with mustaches in the Victorian era used special cups so their mustaches stayed dry?
Or that Americans called hamburgers ‘liberty steaks’ during World War II because hamburgers sounded too German? ”
“Yes. Riveting. Truly, you’re the master of pillow talk.”
He tickles me again. “And seventy? Babe, my ego should get at least ninety-percent. It’s my best asset!”
“Dear God, what if our child inherits your humility? Or your obsession for random facts.”
Still chuckling, he pulls me closer so my back is to his chest. Placing a kiss on my temple, his hand finds my belly.
It’s something I find him doing often, even waking up with his hand at my belly protectively.
“I hope she inherits everything else from you, because then she’ll be perfect, just like her mom. ”
I look up at him. “I’m going to need you to kiss me now.”
I feel the movement inside my stomach as soon as his lips drop against mine, like she knows her dad’s hand is right there for her to touch.
Both our gazes drop to where his hand rests, and Patton starts to rub his thumb on the spot where he feels her.
“She’s saying hello,” I whisper.
“Hey, Starlight.”
I smile, feeling a rush of warmth flood my chest. “Starlight? You haven’t called her that before.”
“Not out loud. I guess I wanted to test it out. I call you Little Borealis so . . . Starlight feels like her.”
I press my hand over his. “It does. It’s a perfect nickname.” I run the tip of my nose over his scruff. “Now, about that kiss.”
His eyes darken as they meet mine, his fingers finding their way to my hair, and I melt into him.
The gentle twist of his fingers inside my hair sends currents down my spine as his mouth claims mine, sure and insistent.
I tilt my head, letting him deepen the kiss, hungry for more of his taste, the delicious scrape of his scruff against my skin, and the way his heartbeats quicken underneath my palm.
When he groans, I swear the sound travels straight through me, settling deep inside my chest where it mingles with all the love I have for this man.
We’re both breathless when our lips part, our foreheads resting against each other as our breaths collide. I can’t help the soft laugh that bubbles out of me. “How do you make every kiss feel like that?”
“Like what?”
I shake my head, searching for the right words. “Like I’ve just run every red light and somehow made it out alive.”
He chuckles. “I guess you can add that to my repertoire of all the reasons you’re with me.”
“You mean right next to the orgasms and foot rubs?”
“Precisely.” He looks into my eyes for a long moment, his thumb tracing my jaw. “I love you.”
I place my hand right above his heart, feeling its steady and solid rhythm beneath my palm. Here with me. “We’re a forever kind of thing.”
A hint of surprise flits across his features, noting I said the words he’s been whispering for weeks, before they soften and his lips find mine again. “That we are, Little Borealis.”