Page 63 of Sometimes You Fall

Scottie:Does that offer to fulfill my cravings still stand?

I sit up in my chair eagerly, holding my phone between my knees as I type out my response.

Me:Absolutely. What do you need?

Scottie:An orange popsicle.

Me:That’s very specific.

Scottie:No commentary needed. Can you bring me a box or not?

Me:Your wish is my command, babe. Be there soon.

I launch from my chair, change into a pair of clean jeans, slap a ball cap on my head, grab my keys, and head for the grocery store. Scottie’s request tells me she’s letting me in, albeit in a small way, but still. I’ll take it.

I race through the store to the freezer section and grab the first box of orange popsicles I see—the classic Big Stick variety, a favorite I remember from the days of chasing down the ice cream truck in my neighborhood. I pay for the treats and then try not to speed as I cross town and pull into Scottie’s driveway.

The curtains on her mother’s front window move, drawing my attention over there as I get out of my truck. I’m sure her mom knows about our situation, but I’m curious what her thoughts are and wonder if maybe she can talk some sense into her daughter.

One obstacle at a time, Grady.

As I knock on Scottie’s door, the bag rustles in my hand, stirred by the breeze sweeping across the front porch. The door swings open, and there’s Scottie, stealing the breath from my lungs and making my dick ache, longing to show her just what she does to him.

She’s fresh from the shower, wearing an oversized gray t-shirt and navy sleep shorts, with her hair wrapped in a towel. Her skin is glowing, her feet are bare, her toenails painted a soft yellow, and I can see her small bump just underneath her shirt.

Mine.

“Special delivery for Scottie Daniels,” I announce, holding up the bag. She motions for me to come in while I simultaneously will my dick to calm down.

A heavy sigh of relief escapes her as she smiles. “Thank you, Grady. I can’t explain why these sounded so good, but when my brain locked onto these, I couldn’t think of anything else.” I follow her into the kitchen, and she takes the bag from me, setting it on the counter. “When I was pregnant with Chase I had the same craving. Maybe it means I’m having another boy.”

“That might be true, but all the books say every pregnancy is different.” She takes the box of popsicles out of the bag and her face falls. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

Her eyes stay locked on the box of Big Sticks for so long that I’m afraid she’s fallen asleep with her eyes open. But when they finally meet mine, they’re full of tears. I react immediately, closing the distance between us. “Shit, Scottie. Are you okay?”

She brushes a tear away. “Um, yeah. I just…”

“What?”

“These aren’t the ones I wanted,” she cries, sobbing into her hands, falling apart right in front of me.

I have no idea what to do in this moment except pull her into my chest. “Fuck. I’m—I’m sorry.”

Her words are muffled as she buries her head in my chest. “I wanted the ones with the two sticks, you know?” She pushes back from me, gesturing with her hands as if holding a popsicle with two sticks. Tears flow down her cheeks and snot drips from her nose.

“Why didn’t you say that?” I ask, bewildered by the intensity of her reaction.

“You should have just known!” she yells back at me, shocking me. “You’re supposed to know!”

I hold my hands up in surrender, not sure what else I’m supposed to do. Here I was thinking I was saving the day, being of use like I told her I wanted to be, but I wasn’t prepared for this reaction. “Scottie…”

She stands there, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I just…”

I pull her gently back into my arms. “Everything’s going to be okay,” I murmur. Before she can say anything else, I decide that maybe a distraction is what she needs. So that’s what I give her. I tip her chin up so I can look into her tear-filled eyes, and then I slant my mouth over hers, swallowing her gasp.

But then, without a moment’s hesitation, she wraps her arms around my neck and meets my tongue thrust for thrust, moaning and burying her hands in my hair, knocking my hat off my head in the process.

I back her up into the fridge, knocking something off the top of it, but it doesn’t faze us. My cock presses against my jeans, begging to be let free just as I reach down and pick up her leg, wrapping it around my waist. She pushes her pussy against my cock, rubbing herself along every inch of me she can reach as we grasp for one another, with so much tension and need in the kiss that it feels like we couldn’t have stopped this if we tried.

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