Beauty from Love
Page 58
I’d like to call for a case status when Addison leaves, so I look at the clock and calculate the time change in my head. Bummer. It won’t work out today. I’ll have to wait until morning to catch Mr. Drake during office hours.
Addie and I laugh and catch up for hours. It’s good to be with her. I feel like we’ve spent too much time apart, although we’re living in the same town, only fifteen minutes between us.
I like the Addison I’m seeing. Motherhood is good for her. I guess it’s true—a baby really can change everything.
26
Laurelyn’s second week of bed rest has been uneventful and her late-morning appointment with Dr. Sommersby went well. Her cervix is unchanged—no bleeding, leaking, or contractions—and the baby has grown well since her last scan. It finally seems everything is getting back on track with this pregnancy. Except no sex. “Since you’re officially released from bed rest, can I take you out to lunch to celebrate?”
“That sounds really good.”
Eating anywhere besides our living-room couch will suit me. “Where do you want to go? Sheridan’s? Or what about that new hibachi restaurant? I’ve heard their sushi is amazing.”
She’s grinning. “I really want a big, fat, juicy cheeseburger and a huge order of fries with a giant chocolate shake from that fifties diner on the square—the one you took me to last year.”
Ah, yes. She was my companion then and things were still new. That morning was when I learned her real name and then she danced for me later that evening for the first time. It was a very memorable day and the recollection nudges me in the cock, encouraging him to wake up. But I have to learn how to get that under control. I’m going to have a really long drought ahead of me.
We walk into the diner and nothing has changed—still a black-and-white-checkered floor with fifties décor. The aroma of freshly dropped french fries and frying hamburgers hangs in the air. “Want to sit at the bar again?”
“Probably not a good idea. I don’t think they’ll be very comfortable for my back so I’d rather sit at a booth.”
We choose one directly behind the spot where we sat a year ago. “I want to put some music on. You already know what I want if the waitress comes by.” She walks toward the jukebox and I watch her bum sway side to side. Even pregnant, my wife is smokin’ hot.
She isn’t gone long before she returns and I hear a familiar tune playing overhead, although I can’t immediately place it. She’s smiling and I know she wants to play name that tune, a game I can’t win with her. “I know this song but the name hasn’t come to me just yet—hold on a sec.”
I listen for a moment and then it hits me. “‘I Only Have Eyes For You,’ but I don’t know who sings it.”
“The Flamingos, silly.”
“Of course, how could I not remember? Oh yeah, maybe because I’ve never heard of them.” She’s a musical genius. “I can’t believe I married a musical Wikipedia. Is there anything you don’t know about music?”
“Possibly, but I haven’t found it yet.”
Our food arrives and L doesn’t hesitate to jump in. She takes a huge bite of her cheeseburger and ketchup drips down, landing right in the center of her swollen, pregnant cleavage. She was already beautifully endowed but the pregnancy has given her a little extra boost. Her tits look even more spectacular.
She looks down at the ketchup in the cleavage and then back to me. She licks her lips to clean the smear of ketchup from her mouth. “You’d really like to lick that off, wouldn’t you?” My cock immediately awakens at the thought of my tongue running down into that cleft.
I put my cheeseburger on my plate and lean across the table to look into her eyes so she understands my seriousness. “I haven’t been inside you for three weeks and it doesn’t look as though I will be anytime soon, so you can’t say things like that to me. It’s torturous.”
Her chewing slows and she puts her cheeseburger down. “Abstinence isn’t going to be all that pleasant for me, either. I enjoy sex too.”
I hope she doesn’t get mad at me for what I’m about to say. “I sort of have this hysteria that started when we left the doctor’s office. It’s sinking in that it will be months before I’ll have you again.”
She uses her napkin to wipe the ketchup from her cleavage. “I’m sorry. I thought I was being cute.”
I don’t want to sour her mood. “You are terribly cute … and that’s the problem. I want you but can’t have you.”
Her smile returns and I know we’re fine. “I’ll try to keep the cuteness to a minimum, then.”
“That’s probably best.”
We change the subject of sex back to music and L tells me about every song playing overhead. “I chose this one because I love it so much, but they made a mistake putting it in the jukebox because it wasn’t released until the early sixties.” I listen and recognize “Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis Presley.
“I really like this song too.” I get up from our booth and put my hand out to her. “Dance with me.”
She looks at me as though I’ve lost my mind. “This is a diner. People don’t dance here.”
“Maybe others don’t but you and I do.”
She giggles and slides out of the booth. I grasp her hand in mine and place my free one on her lower back. “I wouldn’t do this if it weren’t almost empty in here.”
The only other customers are an older couple admiring us from the corner booth. “They see how in love we are and it reminds them of how they were once like this too.”
We sway to the tune of the song and I hold her close. “I couldn’t help falling in love with you.” She smiles and I kiss the top of her head.
I hum the words I don’t know and whisper-sing the chorus as we sway. I return to humming when it comes to the next part I should know, but don’t. “I’ve never heard you sing before.”
“It’s not really my forte.”
“No, it’s not. Your singing sucks,” she laughs.
“Thank you for breaking it to me gently.”
“I doubt I’m breaking anything to you.”
She’s right. I can’t sing worth a damn. “I’ll bow out gracefully from the job of teaching our swarm to sing.”
She stops swaying and looks up at me. “Sure you still want several after all that’s happened with this pregnancy? This problem with my cervix isn’t going away. I’ll need a stitch every time and will be on pelvic rest for the entire pregnancy.”
Addie and I laugh and catch up for hours. It’s good to be with her. I feel like we’ve spent too much time apart, although we’re living in the same town, only fifteen minutes between us.
I like the Addison I’m seeing. Motherhood is good for her. I guess it’s true—a baby really can change everything.
26
Laurelyn’s second week of bed rest has been uneventful and her late-morning appointment with Dr. Sommersby went well. Her cervix is unchanged—no bleeding, leaking, or contractions—and the baby has grown well since her last scan. It finally seems everything is getting back on track with this pregnancy. Except no sex. “Since you’re officially released from bed rest, can I take you out to lunch to celebrate?”
“That sounds really good.”
Eating anywhere besides our living-room couch will suit me. “Where do you want to go? Sheridan’s? Or what about that new hibachi restaurant? I’ve heard their sushi is amazing.”
She’s grinning. “I really want a big, fat, juicy cheeseburger and a huge order of fries with a giant chocolate shake from that fifties diner on the square—the one you took me to last year.”
Ah, yes. She was my companion then and things were still new. That morning was when I learned her real name and then she danced for me later that evening for the first time. It was a very memorable day and the recollection nudges me in the cock, encouraging him to wake up. But I have to learn how to get that under control. I’m going to have a really long drought ahead of me.
We walk into the diner and nothing has changed—still a black-and-white-checkered floor with fifties décor. The aroma of freshly dropped french fries and frying hamburgers hangs in the air. “Want to sit at the bar again?”
“Probably not a good idea. I don’t think they’ll be very comfortable for my back so I’d rather sit at a booth.”
We choose one directly behind the spot where we sat a year ago. “I want to put some music on. You already know what I want if the waitress comes by.” She walks toward the jukebox and I watch her bum sway side to side. Even pregnant, my wife is smokin’ hot.
She isn’t gone long before she returns and I hear a familiar tune playing overhead, although I can’t immediately place it. She’s smiling and I know she wants to play name that tune, a game I can’t win with her. “I know this song but the name hasn’t come to me just yet—hold on a sec.”
I listen for a moment and then it hits me. “‘I Only Have Eyes For You,’ but I don’t know who sings it.”
“The Flamingos, silly.”
“Of course, how could I not remember? Oh yeah, maybe because I’ve never heard of them.” She’s a musical genius. “I can’t believe I married a musical Wikipedia. Is there anything you don’t know about music?”
“Possibly, but I haven’t found it yet.”
Our food arrives and L doesn’t hesitate to jump in. She takes a huge bite of her cheeseburger and ketchup drips down, landing right in the center of her swollen, pregnant cleavage. She was already beautifully endowed but the pregnancy has given her a little extra boost. Her tits look even more spectacular.
She looks down at the ketchup in the cleavage and then back to me. She licks her lips to clean the smear of ketchup from her mouth. “You’d really like to lick that off, wouldn’t you?” My cock immediately awakens at the thought of my tongue running down into that cleft.
I put my cheeseburger on my plate and lean across the table to look into her eyes so she understands my seriousness. “I haven’t been inside you for three weeks and it doesn’t look as though I will be anytime soon, so you can’t say things like that to me. It’s torturous.”
Her chewing slows and she puts her cheeseburger down. “Abstinence isn’t going to be all that pleasant for me, either. I enjoy sex too.”
I hope she doesn’t get mad at me for what I’m about to say. “I sort of have this hysteria that started when we left the doctor’s office. It’s sinking in that it will be months before I’ll have you again.”
She uses her napkin to wipe the ketchup from her cleavage. “I’m sorry. I thought I was being cute.”
I don’t want to sour her mood. “You are terribly cute … and that’s the problem. I want you but can’t have you.”
Her smile returns and I know we’re fine. “I’ll try to keep the cuteness to a minimum, then.”
“That’s probably best.”
We change the subject of sex back to music and L tells me about every song playing overhead. “I chose this one because I love it so much, but they made a mistake putting it in the jukebox because it wasn’t released until the early sixties.” I listen and recognize “Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis Presley.
“I really like this song too.” I get up from our booth and put my hand out to her. “Dance with me.”
She looks at me as though I’ve lost my mind. “This is a diner. People don’t dance here.”
“Maybe others don’t but you and I do.”
She giggles and slides out of the booth. I grasp her hand in mine and place my free one on her lower back. “I wouldn’t do this if it weren’t almost empty in here.”
The only other customers are an older couple admiring us from the corner booth. “They see how in love we are and it reminds them of how they were once like this too.”
We sway to the tune of the song and I hold her close. “I couldn’t help falling in love with you.” She smiles and I kiss the top of her head.
I hum the words I don’t know and whisper-sing the chorus as we sway. I return to humming when it comes to the next part I should know, but don’t. “I’ve never heard you sing before.”
“It’s not really my forte.”
“No, it’s not. Your singing sucks,” she laughs.
“Thank you for breaking it to me gently.”
“I doubt I’m breaking anything to you.”
She’s right. I can’t sing worth a damn. “I’ll bow out gracefully from the job of teaching our swarm to sing.”
She stops swaying and looks up at me. “Sure you still want several after all that’s happened with this pregnancy? This problem with my cervix isn’t going away. I’ll need a stitch every time and will be on pelvic rest for the entire pregnancy.”
