“What is this place?” She questions as I park the Porsche in front of the building.
I turn to her, explaining, “I saw this video online where this couple found out they were pregnant and decided that for their child's birthdays, they’d paint him a plate with all the different things that he’d enjoyed throughout the year. On his eighteenth birthday, he would have a full selection of plates as keepsakes of his childhood. I know our little man isn’t here yet but I thought it would be cool to go ahead and start from age zero, maybe introduce him to us and the things we like. Plus afterward, they have a small Italian restaurant that we can grab food from.”
For a moment she doesn’t say anything and it makes me second guess my decision, “You know maybe this was a stupid idea, we can just go grab dinner somewhere else if you want.”
“No, Tatum.” Darcy’s small hands grab mine, “I love it, this was so well thought out and well I just don’t know how to respond.” My chest loosens a little, easing my anxiety over my choice.
“How about a thank you kiss? Then we go inside so we don’t miss our time slot.” I smile at her and her lips are immediately on mine. Gentle and soft, I can feel her gratitude seeping into the way her lips touch mine, the way that her body leans into mine, soft and pliant. I need to get her out of my car before I turn us around and keep her in my bed all night. Reluctantly, I pull away, her cheeks rosy and eyelashes fluttering slowly as if the kiss shook her. “Let’s get inside before I cancel our reservation and take you home.”
“Not untilafterwe paint pottery and eat pasta. Little man wants breadsticks.” She smiles, waggling her eyebrows at me.
I hop out of the car, extending my hand to assist her once I’ve reached the passenger side. Once she’s out, I intertwine her fingers with mine and we walk in.
There’s a young man, probably around twenty-two sitting at the front desk, reading a book, bright blue hair sits atop his head. He notices us, snapping his book shut before saying, “Welcome to Potters, Painters, and Pasta. Do you have a time slot reserved tonight?”
“We do, it’s under Tatum Reed.” He looks at the computer then at me then back to the computer. The smells of paint and marinara sauce mingle in the room, I find it weirdly comforting.
“Found you. So behind me, you’ll see the pottery pieces to choose from, once you've decided the one that you want, you’ll head to that corner.” He gestures towards the far side of the room. “And Zoey will get you set up with whatever colors that you want to use. Once you’ve got it painted, you’ll take the piece back to Zoey, then go through those double doors and they’ll get you set up with dinner. You’ll pay for everything on your dinner tab, just give them this ticket and we will call you once your piece is dried, fired, and ready for pickup.” He smiles, effectively dismissing us. There are no other customers and pop music plays softly throughout the room. I pull Darcy in the direction of what looks to be dinnerware, inspecting and choosing a plate.
“Should we do a beach theme? Sand and water, shells, maybe lasagna, and a Coke Icee?” Darcy asks as we head to meet Zoey at the paint station.
“I love that idea, let’s add in a hockey puck because you know little dude will be on skates as soon as he can stand if it’s up to Uncle Dom,” I retort, approaching the young woman, her onyx hair held back by chopsticks.
“Hiya, what colors are we looking at today?” Zoey asks with a bright smile on her face. Darcy proceeds to rattle off the colors she believes we will need, I toss in a forest green and aquamarine as well. Zoey hands us the plate of colors with another one of her chipper smiles.
“Let’s sit over there.” Darcy gestures towards a booth tucked into the side of the room, red plastic lines the seat and it gives us plenty of room to set the plate and paints down between us.
“Okay, where should we start?”
“I’m thinking waves then we add in all the personal touches like the Icee and hockey puck. What do you think?”
“That’s a great idea. Are you an artist along with being an author?” I ask, receiving a full-blown cackle.
“Aspiringauthor and absolutely zero artistic bones in my body.” She emphasizes aspiring, as if writing a book isn’t a big accomplishment, before beginning to spread a darker blue onto the pottery piece—I join in with a lighter attempting to give some depth to the waves.
“Baby, writing a book is a really big fucking deal. Even if it never sees the light of day, which it will, you did the fucking thing and that is something I will make sure you are incredibly proud of every day for the rest of my life.”
“I appreciate your support and willingness to help me accomplish my dreams. It means a lot to me, Tatum.” I can see her cheeks lift as she smiles softly down at our plate which honestly doesn’t look terrible.
We continue working on the plate for baby boy with my final touches including an attempt at the birth flowers of his future family, a book for his Mama, and a smiley face because I hope our little man's life is full of life and laughter. Light conversation flows between us before heading over to indulge in pasta.
Our drive home was filled with a tranquil silence, my hand had a firm grasp on Darcy’s thigh the entire way and I enjoyed the way she squirmed beneath my grasp.
“I ate so much pasta. I don’t know how there’s any more room for the baby in there.” She sighs contentedly as I pull into our parking spot.
“That linguine was to die for, definitely going to have to make another trip.”
“Good thing we have eighteen more excuses to go back!” Her laugh fills the car before she steps out, meeting me at the hood.
“That we do,” I say as I approach her, pulling her into me and in for a kiss. She immediately opens up for me, deepening our connection. Her hips grinding into mine and fuck I can’t get enough of her. “You better stop that before I bend you over the hood of the car.”
She pulls back breathlessly, “Under different circumstances, I wouldn’t complain about that but the bed sounds better. Let’s go.”
Holy fuck, I don’t think my dick could get any harder than it is now.She scurries away, guiding me towards the elevator, swiping her key card with so much fervor that I’m worried for her joints.
“Slow down Mama.” I grab her waist, pulling her ass against my front, “We have all night.” Her body relaxes into mine, the elevator dinging as we pass each floor. I can’t help but move one hand to the hem of her dress, barely caressing the skin beneath it.
“All night sounds like a long time, think you can handle me that long?” She’s not facing me but I can see the sly grin that spreads across her face in the mirror of the elevator. I find myself gripping her hip and continuing to tease her to avoid taking her against the elevator wall.
