37. Archer
ARCHER
“Damn, dude. There’s gonna be like…a baby in this thing,” Z says, staring down at the bassinet beside the bed. “In just a couple of weeks, we’ll have a small human being hanging out with us… Forever.”
“Yep,” I say, bemused, as I screw in the final piece of the changing table my parents gifted Allie at the baby shower.
Zander came over this afternoon to help me put it together, along with a rocking chair and a couple of storage bins for all the baby stuff Allie and I have accumulated over the past few months.
Luckily, the main bedroom in the guesthouse is spacious, so we had plenty of room for all the new furniture—for the baby—until we move after I’m drafted.
“Man… Are you not flabbergasted? I’m going to be an uncle.”
“Z, this isn’t news. We’ve known for several months now.”
“Yeah, but seeing everything makes it so real.”
“I know.” I groan, as I roll over and stand up, finished with the dresser.
My brother helps me drag it against the wall beneath the window and move the rocking chair into the corner.
The way early morning sunlight filters through the window will land directly on that chair, and I think Allie will really enjoy it when she’s nursing.
“Amor,” I call through the closed bathroom door. “You almost ready?”
“No!” her muffled response echoes back.
Zander’s brows furrow as his brown eyes dart between the closed door and myself.
I shake my head. “She’s fine. Why don’t you head down to the cove, and we’ll meet everyone there when she’s ready?”
Z snorts. “Sounds good. I’ll let the rest of the family know.”
“Thanks,” I say as he leaves the bedroom. “And thanks for helping me today.”
Zander peers at me over his shoulder, a million-dollar grin flashing beneath his mustache. “Anything for you, bro.”
Since we’re so close to the draft, and Allie’s due date is only a few weeks after, plus Liv and Lou are back in California, we planned a beach day for everyone.
Allie doesn’t know it yet, but her parents are driving down too.
It’s been a couple of weeks since her baby shower when she last saw them, and the more pregnant she gets, the more she seems to want to be babied herself.
Despite how much I spoil her, she preens when her parents are around, waiting on her hand and foot.
“Allie Cat.” I rasp my knuckles against the door. “You okay?”
“No,” she mutters. “But you can come in.”
As I turn the handle, I find Allie standing, completely naked, with her back braced against the counter, and a pile of swimsuits on the floor at her feet, and a shaving razor in her hand.
She’s looking down, frowning.
“What’s the matter, baby?” I ask. “Does the new suit not fit?”
“No.” She sighs. “It does. I just hate it. I want to wear my neon pink bikini and be hot.”
“Okay, where’s your bikini?”
Her head snaps up, brown eyes bugging. “I can’t wear that, Archer. Look at me!” She waves to her stomach. “I’m a planet.”
I swallow down a laugh, because I know she’s being serious, and I want her to feel like her feelings are valid.
Stepping into the bathroom, I stand in front of her, grasping her cheeks as I tilt her face to mine.
“You are so beautiful, Allie. Bikini, or one-piece, or sweatpants, or completely naked. You’re beautiful, and your body is perfect. ”
She pouts. “Moms can’t wear bikinis, can they? Isn’t that like…frowned upon? This massive belly on display?”
“You can wear whatever the fuck you want, Allie. You can show off your belly if you want to. And no matter what you wear, you’re still gonna be the sexiest goddamn woman on the planet, okay?”
Allie’s self-confidence ebbs and flows on a daily basis now.
Some days she’s incredibly proud of her body and all the changes it’s handling, the life it’s creating.
Other days, she’s overwhelmed by the differences she’s seeing, or she puts pressure on herself to fit into some proclaimed societal standard she thinks a pregnant woman has to follow.
I’m proud of her body every day, but especially on the days she’s not.
I’m her voice of reason in the moments she’s unsure, because I know, deep down, Allie’s as unapologetic as ever in what she wears and how she lives. Once I clear the haze she gets stuck behind, it’s easier for her to grab hold of that innate self-assurance she’s always possessed.
A soft smile clusters at the corner of her mouth as her eyes flutter to the floor, lashes fanned out over freckled and flushed cheeks. “Okay…but there is another issue.”
“Let me fix it, baby.”
“I haven’t seen my feet in weeks.”
I pull back slightly, head tilting in confusion.
Allie continues, “You obviously don’t seem to have an issue with my…situation downstairs, but like…” She lifts her eyes, huffing. “I can’t go down to the beach flaunting a 1970s bush, Archer.”
My brows fly upward, and I’m fighting with everything to swallow down the cackle that wants to leave my mouth, but my lips tremble with a smirk.
“And I’m not ashamed of my body hair, okay? But it’s really lookin’ like a jungle down there, and I’m not comfortable with that, either.”
My smirk morphs into a grin now. “I can fix that.”
Her eyes narrow as she pops a brow. “No, you can’t.”
“Baby.” I press my lips against her forehead. “I know your pussy inside out. I’m more qualified than anyone to be its landscaper.”
“Oh my God, Archer.” She hides her face in her hands. “Not the landscaper.”
I laugh, kissing her nose. “Go sit on the tub.”
She lets out an exasperated exhale as I move away and she steps up to the tub, spinning around. “So help me God if you cut me—”
“I’ve got steady hands, Amor.”
I whisk the razor off the counter before opening the storage shelves behind the mirror and grabbing my shaving cream. “Were you already trying to shave earlier?” I ask.
“Yeah, but I couldn’t see a damn thing and I got scared.”
I turn around, Allie is sitting at the edge of the tub, all of her soft, smooth, glowing skin on display. I slowly drop to my knees and crawl toward her, grasping her thighs and spreading them open.
I eat Allie’s pussy almost every night, and honestly, I don’t give a fuck whether she shaves or not. I haven’t thought twice about it, but I understand why she would want to be a little more trimmed before we head down to the beach.
Plus, I want to ensure she’s comfortable in her body right now, in whatever way that looks.
“Turn the water on for me,” I say, nodding toward the faucet.
She flicks it on, and I pool it in my hands before splashing over her center, then squirting a dollop of shaving cream into my palm.
“You can leave a tasteful little landing strip, or something,” she says.
“I’m going to leave the letter A because Archer owns this pussy.”
A deep, rumbling laugh bursts from the other side of the door, startling Allie and me both. As the sound settles, I immediately recognize it as my brother.
“What the fuck do you want, Z?” I shout.
“My timing is fucking phenomenal,” he bellows. “I ran into Macie and Dom outside, so I thought I’d bring them in to see Allie before we go to the beach.”
Allie gazes down at me, eyes wide as she hisses in a hushed tone, “Why are my parents here?”
“I was going to surprise you,” I murmur.
A wide, girlish smile erupts on her cheeks. “Hi, Mama!” she calls out. “Hi, Daddy.”
There is a grunt, a sigh, and then Macie mutters, “We’ll just meet you outside, Bee. When Archer is done with his A.”
Allie scrunches her nose as humiliation funnels through me, only dissipating when a soft giggle leaves her lips.
“You’re on nipple patrol,” Allie says as we make our way down the stairs that line the cliffside above Celestia Cove, adjusting her pink bikini top beneath the white mesh cover-up she’s wearing.
At the bottom, a tent is set up with chairs, beach towels, and coolers laid out beneath it. The distant echo of Reggae music floats across the shoreline, and a few surfboards dot the waves in the distance—Willow, Weston, Leo, my sister, and Livia, if I’m not mistaken.
I hold Allie’s hand as we step into the sand and walk under the tent. “Sorry we’re late, Archer had to shave my vagina.”
“Allie,” I hiss beneath my breath.
“What? Zander would’ve said something if I hadn’t. I just beat him to the punch and ruined whatever stupid joke he was crafting in his head.” She nods to where my brother leans back in a lounge chair, arms crossed as he pouts. “See?”
My mouth quirks because she’s absolutely right.
“We didn’t ask,” my mom mutters from Zander’s other side, my dad beside her.
“Allie Bee,” Macie calls, across the tent from my family, sitting with Penelope, Carter, and Dom. “Come sit with me.”
My aunts, along with August and my grandparents round out the group, sitting in the sun. Allie and I make our rounds, hugging everyone before we make it to her parents. Dom refuses eye contact with me, but he at least offers a side hug before slinking back into his chair.
I sprawl out on the beach towel in front of my mom, digging through her beach bag for sunscreen. “How’re you today, Bub?” she asks.
“Good,” I say, finding the bottle of SPF and generously pouring a dollop of it into my palm. “Excited to relax for once.”
I pull off my T-shirt before lathering up my chest, arms, and face.
“Allie,” I call, shaking the bottle in her direction. “Sunscreen, baby.”
I toss it toward where she sits with her parents across the tent, and Dom catches it one-handed before passing it to her. My instincts want to insist that I lotion her myself, but I don’t want to smother her. I also don’t want to pop a hard-on in front of everyone.
My mom lets out a whistle, watching Allie shimmy out of her cover-up. “She’s about to pop.”
I shouldn’t have encouraged her to wear that pink bikini because I’m going to be hiding my boner all afternoon now anyway.
I smile, watching her. “I know.”
“Are you excited?”
I turn back to Mom. “Does excitement feel like fighting the urge to vomit every second of the day?”
Dad cackles, clapping me on the back. “When you’re having kids it does.”
“Then, yeah. I’m excited.”