Page 71 of False Start
He unravels from me and bops me on the end of the nose. “You’ll have to wait until after dinner.”
“Will you pour the wine?”
He works on opening a bottle of red wine while I finish sautéing the green beans and pull a casserole from the oven. “Can you believe we’ve been married three years?”
“Yes, it’s seemed like an eternity.”
He laughs. “Hardy-har-har. She’s got jokes. But you’re half naked, so I’ll let it slide.”
We make a plate and take it to the dining room where we rarely eat, but it’s a special occasion. I can’t believe we’ve been married three years. All jokes aside, time has flown by because being with Bryant is easy. We’ve only had one big argument in the four years we’ve been together, and the makeup sex was worth it.
As usual, Bryant eats off both of our plates. His appetite is bottomless being such a big guy and all. “Ben called. He’s proposing to the girl he’s dating.”
“The one he just started dating?” I ask.
“Yeah. Wendy. She’s preggers.”
I drop my fork at the news. “No!”
“‘Fraid so. I think I’m still in shock he’s having a kid before us.”
“No kidding. How does he feel about it?”
“Hasn’t hit him yet. Wants to do the right thing by the girl.”
“Babies shouldn’t always equal marriage though. He can be there and support her and the baby without putting a ring on it.”
“You know Ben, babe. He’s always wanted a big family. Somewhere deep inside, he’s over the moon about this even if it isn’t the most ideal situation to bring a kid into. Anyway, he’s coming to town and wants to do a quick bachelor party this Friday night. Are you cool with that?”
“Sure. Will you be making it rain?”
It earns me a grin. “Yes, baby, we’re going to the strip club.”
I grew up around a lot of men, and deep down most of them are dogs who want to objectify women. I accept it for what it is and only ask him to follow my one rule. “Please don’t drink and drive.”
“Have I told you how amazing of a wife you are today?”
“Nope. You’re really falling down on your game there, QB.”
We play footsie under the table and enjoy the duck with an orange glaze I prepared especially for him and our anniversary. It’s one of his favorite dishes.
“I love you, Zhanna,” he says as he pushes back from the table and throws his napkin on his plate. “The duck was wonderful. I’m afraid I’m too full to take you upstairs and have my way with you.”
I drink down the remaining contents of my wine glass and wipe my mouth before I stand from my own chair and walk over to him. “Who said we need to go upstairs?”
“Naughty, naughty Coach.”
“Hmmm, I suppose we shall see.” I throw a leg over his lap to straddle him. His hand goes straight to my hips as he pushes me down and thrusts up at the same time. He’s hard as a rock. “I thought you were too full to have your way.”
“Babe, I think you’re having your way with me right now, and I’m enjoying every single moment of it.”
I lean forward to kiss him, but he winces. “What’s wrong?”
“This isn’t the greatest position for a new tattoo.”
“You have a new tat?”
God. I love his dimples. “Yeah. It’s my surprise.”
