Page 97 of Imperfection is Beauty

Over the past six months, Scarlett had healed up nicely. She would be on medicine for the rest of her life after losing a kidney. But all in all, we would take that. Gladly.

“Yoo-hoo!” Please. Fucking hell please tell me I didn’t just hear what I think I did.

Scarlett looked up at me with wide eyes, and then in a whisper, “Please tell me my ears are playing tricks on me?”

“Marcus, boy, you better answer me. I know your home. And I know that sweet girl is here too.”

I growled.

I loved my Mama. I really did.

But no one was seeing my woman like this. Over my cold dead body.

Ever so carefully I pulled out of her, lowered my head, and pressed a kiss on the top of her nose. And there, I managed to soften my tone, to not let the temper I was known for come through and attack her. “Be back.”

Just as I lifted off of her delectable body, she grabbed my bicep, and with that one look from her ice-blue eyes, I took in a deep breath and tried to keep my temper in check.

Tugging on a pair of sweatpants, I headed out of our bedroom.

I met my Mama as she was walking up my fucking stairs, “Mama, what are you doing here?”

See, I didn’t curse at her. Barely.

“There’s something I wanted to talk to Scarlett about and then I remembered I promised you I would bring that cookbook so you can cook her that dinner. I figured she would be here, so I figured why not kill two birds with one stone?”

“And you couldn’t have called first? Or better yet, knocked, or hey, I don’t know, use the freaking doorbell?”

She waved my words away as only a southern mama could do.

“You’re my son. Boy, I carried you for nine months and had twenty-nine hours of labor to get your big ass body out of my little one. If I want to walk up into your house without announcing myself, I’ve earned that right.”

She was right, and any other day any other time while I wasn’t buried in my woman I would have understood. But not right now, I growled, “And let me ask you something?”

She sighed, “You’re wastin’ my time. I want to see my girl.”

“What did Dad do the last time I walked into the house without announcing myself and he was pounding into you at the sink?”

“He beat your ass. Why? What does it…” Then her eyes went wide.

And then, she snapped, “Why the hell did you stop? I told you I wanted grandbabies. Go back up there and get on that.”

And that was when I heard my woman’s tinkling laughter at the top of the stairs.

Turning my head to look over my shoulder, the feeling of pride swelled in my chest, her in one of my tee’s. Sure, it looked like a dress on her but what a sight it was.

In fact, it was such a sight that I turned my back on my Mama and prowled up the stairs, my eyes locked on Scarlett’s when I said, “See your freaking self out.”

“Okay baby boy, the cookbook will be on the counter. Scarlett dear, call me once he gets done planting my grandbaby inside of you. Tootles.”

“Now, where were we?” I asked her as I nipped at the delicate skin on her neck.

“Marcus, the mood is gone.” She whimpered.

“Bet I can bring it back. What do you think?” She simply smiled and nodded, that was my woman.

And yes. I definitely brought the mood back.

Once I thoroughly made love to my woman I went to clean up and get a washcloth, and when I saw her birth control package in the trash, I walked back to the room and asked, “How dirty do you like to be?”

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