Page 74 of Flint
Everything feels warm and alive. LA has always been my home, but since I arrived in Cedar Falls, I realize that this is my true home. Being with the man I love, my brother, and the found family who have embraced me. I lean my head against Flint’s shoulder for a second and say, “I’m happy.”
His arm tightens around me instantly, almost like the words hit him physically.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He kisses the top of my head.
I feel the rumble of his chest when he speaks. “Good.”
The baby kicks again and I let out a startled yelp. Flint immediately starts guiding me towards one of the chairs beneath the canopy. “Sit.”
“You’re extra bossy now that you’re a husband,” I mutter.
“Just lookin’ out for my old lady.”
He helps me lower myself carefully into the chair like I’m made of glass instead of hormones and stubbornness. The second I’m sitting, relief spreads through my lower back. “Oh, that feels good.”
“Told you.”
“Okay, you were right. Don’t get used to it.”
Too late. The smug look on his face says he absolutely will. He disappears for less than a minute before returning with a mason jar full of ice water and extra lemon slices floating inside.
“You remembered.”
“You’ve wanted lemons in everything for the last four months.”
I take a mouthful. It’s good. “I cried over lemonade last week,” I admit.
“It was good lemonade, though,” he agrees solemnly, like that justifies every emotional pregnancy moment I’ve had.
He crouches beside me again, one forearm resting over my thigh while I drink. The sunlight catches the silver in his rings and the dark ink winding down his arm. He’s beautiful in a real way. Strong enough to protect, gentle enough to nurture.
“You keep staring at me like that, and people are gonna talk,” he murmurs.
“Am I not allowed to undress my husband with my eyes on my wedding day?” I ask.
“Wanna undress me with your hands?”
I laugh softly. I’ve been horny as hell for the past few weeks and the idea of sneaking off with him is appealing.
His expression changes. Gone is the light teasing, replaced by something else.
“What?” I ask.
His hand slides over my belly again, almost unconsciously. “Just thinking.”
“Dangerous.”
“Very.”
I smile, but it fades a little when I see the emotion lingering in his eyes.
“I didn’t think I’d ever have this,” he says.
Something squeezes painfully around my heart. I know it was hard for Flint growing up, especially after his mom died. Then there was all the things he saw while he was in the military. Sometimes I forget how miraculous normal happiness probably feels to him.
