I move faster, harder, obeying her demands. Her moans grow into screams, and I think about the windows being open to air out the fumes. The thought of someone hearing us adds to the excitement. I release my grip around her wrists and lower my mouth to her breasts.
“Don’t stop,” she cries out.
Sweat is beading up over my body, dripping down onto hers, but it isn’t until one single drop falls to her rose-bud nipple that I lose all control. I release and unravel. I fall to the side of her body, curling her into me. I touch the drop of sweat that landed on her nipple and drag my fingers down her breast. August's body jerks against mine; her cries sound tired and weak as she falls against my chest in a mass of erratic breaths.
I can see why this might be better than a glass of whiskey.
“No more whiskey,” she says. “Just this.”
“I might be able to help you with that,” I tell her.
“Good because right now, I have the urge for another drink.”
The painting took a little longer than I expected, even with August’s “help.” At least it's done now. We’re both still covered from head to toe, even after the shower we just took.
“I’m starving,” August says. “We should go get a dry, dark burger.”
“It is far too soon to tell you how perfect you are, isn’t it?” I ask her.
“It’s never too soon to hear that,” she says with a flirty little smile.
Sometimes when life is perfect, everything just falls into place. That’s where I feel like I am right now. I don’t want this Sunday to end.
Hunger spoke louder than our desire to scrape paint off our bodies, and we still look more presentable than half the others at Kenny’s.
The place is empty tonight. “What in the hell happened to you two? Did you go paintball shooting today?” Luke asks.
“Nah, man, I’ve been sprucing up my house because that call came in,” I tell him.
Luke looks shocked. He slaps his hand down on the bar top and lets out a choked laugh. “What?”
“The call came in,” I tell him again.
Luke shakes his head with a look of disbelief, and he jumps over the bar top and throws his arms around me. “You’re getting a kid?” he screams.
Knots tighten in my chest as I try to answer him. “Yeah, man. It’s happening. At least I think it is. I’m praying nothing goes wrong.”
Luke screws up my already messy hair. “This could not be happening to a better person.”
“Guys, Chance is getting a kid!” Luke screams out. I’d be worried if anyone knew me outside of this bar, but I think the news is safe in here. Even though most of them could care less, a round of applause echoes between the walls. “Dude, we have to celebrate.”
“Yeah, man, I’m still in shock.”
“What do you think about all this?” Luke asks August.
She’s beaming when she answers him. “He deserves this, and I’m over the moon for him.”
“Damn straight,” Luke shouts. “Annabelle!” I didn’t realize Luke’s wife was here tonight, but she walks out of the kitchen.
“What’s all the commotion out here?” she asks. “Oh, hey, Chancey.”
“Chance got the call, baby.”
Annabelle’s hand’s cup over her mouth, and her eyes fill with tears. “You serious?”
I give a quick nod because the emotions are starting to run high, and I need to keep my act together. “Yeah, anything could still happen, but it’s a nine-year-old boy.”
Annabelle climbs under the bar top door and throws her arms around me, squeezing the air out of my lungs. “You are going to be the best dad in the entire world, Chance,” she says. “I just know it.”
