And she never misses an opportunity to tell her brother why he’s wrong. I think she’s my hero. Smart, corrupt, future leader that she is.
Harry, on the other hand, is so good-natured. I haven’t decided if he’s being nice to his sister by giving in to her, or if he’s that oblivious and easy-going. Either way he doesn’t stop smiling.
Since I never thought I’d get married, I definitely never thought about having kids. Maybe committing to a puppy one day if I get a little lonely, a thought I’ve had more often since my best friend found the love of her life. Because a puppy can’t leave me; I need to feed it.
But I could see how people want to do this. For the entertainment value alone really, these kids rank up there with reality TV.
Like when Harper whispered to her brother that every time someone farted, part of their insides flew out of their butt, and if they did it enough all their insides would be gone, and then Harry spent the rest of the drive trying to keep a fart in until Beau figured out what happened and set the record straight.
I laughed so hard my stomach hurt when Harry let out a loud, smelly toot, the look on his face a combination of bliss and satisfaction. And then I made eye contact with Beau, who was trying to keep it in, and started laughing all over again.
Fart humor really is ageless.
But it’s easy to say that on a good day like today, when we’re all having a good time at a family outing. I’d probably think differently if I had to deal with the hard work: bad days and body fluid emergencies and crying with no easily discernible cause. Maybe I should ask Priya if she’s thinking about having kids. I’d get all the benefits of spending fun time with the rugrats without doing any full-time commitment.
Even though I bet she won’t unless I tell her it will be good for business and help her make more sales.
After we drive around the track twice and eat so much popcorn and hot chocolate that I bet I’m going to hear about a shortage on the news tomorrow, it’s time to leave. The kids are out. Beau and I have to carry them back into the truck after the last loop around the track, neither kid waking up through the move. I miss being that heavy a sleeper.
We say good-night to Annabelle and Tucker, who are heading to a hotel for the night as well. I climb back into Beau’s truck, where all my stuff like my glittery metal water bottle, lip balm and hand sanitizer have made themselves at home in their new location: Beau’s center console. They look comfortable there.
“Did you have fun?” Beau asks, driving us to the hotel.
“It was a lot of fun. Still can’t compare to a New York Christmas though.” Before he gets too big for his britches.
“I’ve got time, Baby Girl.” He grabs my hand and kisses it, then doesn’t let go as he sets our hands on the center console.
I wait for the familiar surge of panic at the thought of the future and Beau, even if it’s only about later this week. But it doesn’t come. My stomach is calm and I think I’m evenexcitedabout what other adventures the man has planned for me.
It must be something in the air. I’m not used to this much fresh air; it’s really doing things to my head.
“We’ll see.” It’s the best that I can manage at this particular time, affected as I am with the fresh-air sickness.
Twenty minutes later, Beau pulls up to a large brick building, complete with its own veranda and rocking chairs. He handles check-in and takes our bags in hand, directing me to the elevators. He leads us to the room and then drops the luggage off just inside the door.
“We’ve got another amazing Christmas activity scheduled for tomorrow, so we should probably rest up.”
I look at the inviting, fluffy white sheets and grab his hand. “Then you better be quick.”
Without discussing it further, we each start ripping off our own clothes, not ready to take the time to slowly undress each other or savor the parts that we uncover.
Undressed and condom on, we clash in the middle of the bed, Beau getting me under him in record time while kissing me. I feel his hand on my clit, sliding through the slight wetness he finds there and making it increase. We both display a bit of urgency in our actions, whether it’s so we can rest up for the next day of Christmasing, or whether it’s because our time is limited, or maybe because we haven’t had a bed for this in a while, I don’t know.
All I can do is enjoy where we are now.
A short time later, he pushes into me inch by inch, the frenzy not making him any less careful with me, a gentleman in every circumstance. A short time after that he starts to thrust, and then I’m coming. Not very long after that, he comes, collapsing next to me.
He kisses the top of my head, chest heaving, and I’m glad we didn’t bother turning any of the lights on when we came in. Because it is beyond me to try to get up, even to save the environment.
We stay on top of the covers, getting under them beyond us too. Despite how physically satisfied I am, I feel a prickle of unease with the recent development of settling into time with Beau without more...well, unease.
I wake up snuggled in warmth surrounding me on all sides. I expected the warmth under me and to my side, but the warmth on top of me does make me wonder. I lift my head up to see what’s causing it and see I’m wrapped in the comforter I fell asleep on.
“Mornin’,” Beau says from next to me, also under the sheets.
“Good morning.” I snuggle back into the warmth, pressing a kiss on his chest to thank him for getting us under the covers.
“You’re gonna love the surprise today.” Beau sounds uncharacteristically smug and I peek up at him. His eyes stay closed, but his lips are twisted into a “I’ve won” smile.
