To Have

by M. L. Pennock

  “Stell, I don’t want perfect.” I look at her. Really look at her — the creases at the corners of her eyes, the shadows beneath them that tell me she hasn’t been sleeping well again and it’s probably all my fault, I see the stud earrings she wears and wonder why I never noticed them before; I take in everything about her. “I want you. You need to tell me if this is too much right now, though.”

  “It’s not too much. God, Brian, I don’t think there could ever be too much of you, of Britt. I feel like you belong with me.”

  I’m blown away by the honesty in her remark and want to spend the rest of the night kissing her, loving her. She’s going to change me, but only for the better because her imperfections are a perfect fit for me and I’m flooded with an indescribable need to find her the most perfect-for-her Christmas gift.

  “So what you’re saying is you want to own me? Like a toy? A belonging?” I ask her, teasing to break the seriousness because the last thing Stella needs right now is serious. We can deal with serious tomorrow.

  The laughter that trickles out of her makes my spine tingle.

  “I’m going to tie you up and keep you forever,” she says, easing back into the comfort we’ve found with one another.

  “Now that’s something I could truly enjoy,” I say, grabbing one of those stud earrings between my lips and flicking the flesh with my tongue.

  I feel her sigh before I hear it and the movement of her body against mine makes me wish we had the house to ourselves. I’ll make it up to her tomorrow. We can do serious and sexy all in one day.

  Stella deserves a seriously sexy Sunday and I plan to make it happen.

  “You’re drinking wine,” Steph says from the doorway. “You’re drinking.”

  I notice her face fall; even in the short time it seems she knew we were possibly having a baby she built it up in her head.

  “I’m drinking,” Stella responds to her sister, tucking herself under my arm. “It’s okay.”

  I wasn’t the only one to notice Stephanie’s reaction. It’s one of those things I can’t fix for them. I want to but I realize now that I can’t even try to fix it. They’re having a silent conversation and I’m not part of it, but I can make one suggestion that will get us through the evening and calm our nerves.

  “Come on, ladies. We have a bottle of wine to enjoy,” I say, grabbing the plates off the counter again as Stella tucks the bottle under her arm and picks up our glasses. Walking into the dining room, I notice Britt asleep on the couch in the living room. “Looks like it’s a sleepover tonight.”

  ***

  “Bike? Check. Lego sets? Check. New clothes, more crayons, a new baseball bat and balls. What else should we get him?” Stella has gone all out helping me shop for Britt’s Christmas gifts. She’s picked up a few things for her sister and parents, but mostly the day has been about my boy.

  I think she’s almost as in love with him as I am and the feeling squeezes my heart just a little, making me short of breath. She’s a natural. The night before comes back to hit me, like a punch straight to the solar plexus that leaves you flat on your back wondering what the fuck happened. We haven’t talked about it, though we’ve skirted around the topic. I think it’s a conversation that will come with time, but we’d both prefer that time come sooner rather than later.

  “Bri? Did you hear me?” She pulls me out of my thoughts and back to the present. “I think we should get him a helmet to go with the bike. Make sure he’s safe when he’s riding, especially if he’s going to ride on the sidewalks. They’re not in the best condition ...”

  I stop her voice with my lips — right there in the middle of the mall, I pull her to me mid-sentence and kiss the hell out of her, putting our love on display for anyone who walks by and all the people who have to change their course to get around us. I don’t know why she thinks she isn’t perfect.

  “I love you,” I say breaking away from the warmth of her mouth but holding her face still in my hands. “I love how much you love my son. I love how much you care about us. Let me love you in return for forever?”

  “Is this,” she starts and stops. She swallows. She opens her mouth to speak and closes it again. “Did you just ...?”

  “I might have. It depends on what you say.” I lean my forehead against hers, gently pushing my hands into her hair and saying a silent prayer she’ll be mine, that she’ll let me have her for eternity.

  “And if I say ‘slow down, cowboy, maybe we should take our time getting there’?” She asks. Her voice is soft, tender, and it scares me because there’s a possibility I’m screwing this up. She might stop being hypothetical. She might actually say no.

  “Then I’d have no other choice than to wait for you,” I say, regretfully. “Just don’t make me wait too long. Please?”

  She’s silent and we’re still standing in the middle of the mall with my head against hers. I breathe in the scent of her perfume and collect myself before opening my eyes.

  “You okay?” Stella smiles as she takes in the emotions playing out on my face. I nod, making her giggle because our foreheads are still mashed together. “Good. Because I want to help pick out any sort of jewelry you were thinking of buying me.”

  I couldn’t have heard her right.

  “I don’t really like yellow gold, but white gold and I get along.” I lift my head and stare at her. “Diamonds are pretty, but sapphire matches your eyes, especially right now. You’ve got your sexy eyes on, Brian. You’re undressing me with your eyes. I see you doing it. Should we maybe come back to look at jewelry?”

  The heat rises in her cheeks.

  “If we don’t go to the car now, we’re going to have to find a very secluded bathroom, and you’re way better than kinky sex in a mall bathroom.” The deep tone of my voice catches her off guard and she stutters out something incoherent as I turn and begin ushering her to the exit closest to where we parked.

  We’re almost to the Tahoe when Stella pulls on my arm and brings me to a dead stop. I follow her gaze to a couple pulling an infant carrier out of a car and snapping it into a stroller. Her grip on my forearm is tight enough I cry out and try to release her grasp. It’s like her hand is locked around my arm.

  “Stell? What’s the matter?” I ask as I try to gently pry her hand from around my arm before she bruises it.

  “It’s them.” I have no idea who “them” is, but I don’t feel this is the time to question it or why they matter. “I feel like I should go thank them for simultaneously ruining my life and giving me a chance at something real and amazing.”

  The ex? That can’t be who that is, can it? I look at the couple again as the woman pulls a pink blanket over the carrier to keep the wind off the baby. The man sees me staring at them, then his eyes trail down. To the love of my life; to the former love of his.

  “Stella?” he asks, surprise in his voice. He turns to the woman and says something we can’t hear while adjusting the diaper bag slung over his shoulder. Then he takes a step in our direction and I feel every muscle in my body go tense.

  I’ve never wanted to hit someone I just met, but there’s a rage deep inside me that I can’t explain. It’s not a “defend her honor” kind of rage. This is more a “you broke her and hurt her and you don’t deserve her forgiveness” rage. But she’s Stella, and Stella, I know, has come to terms with the ending of that relationship.

  She’s hardwired to forgive.

  “Hi, Keith. How are you? Congratulations on your new addition,” she says, gesturing to the stroller with a smile. Then, not out of her character, she speaks to the woman as well. “Hello, Beth.”

  Beth looks nervous and starts fidgeting with the stroller handle after giving me and Stella a short wave. She looks timid and shy. The exact opposite of Stella.

  “Good. We’re doing well. The baby came a couple weeks early, so this is our first real adventure out before it gets too cold. You look good,” Keith says to her, reaching behind him to scratch his head, like he has something he wants
to say but not sure how to bring it up.

  It’s like I don’t exist, so I clear my throat and eye him up. That rage is still burning deep in my stomach.

  “I’m Keith,” he says holding his hand out for me to shake.

  I do. I shake it just long enough and hard enough to make sure he knows I already don’t like him.

  “Brian.” That’s all he needs to know. I can feel the vein in my temple starting to throb.

  “Right. I saw the story about you that Caryn wrote,” he says, eyeing me cautiously, then looking at Stella again, “I should go, get Beth and the princess out of the chill. It was nice to see you, Stell.”

  “You too, Keith,” she says.

  As we turn and finish walking to the car, she says quietly to me, “You were posturing. He’s not competition, Brian. You’ve won me fair and square.”

  “I wasn’t posturing. I know you’re mine. I just don’t like that he hurt you,” I say curtly, swallowing hard as I try to settle the anger I still feel. It’s anger like I haven’t felt in years — not since Britt was deserted by his egg donor — and I’m not sure how to put into words what that feeling is like for me.

  “Please, don’t be short.” She leans back against the passenger door, grabbing the front of my Carhartt and pulling me to her. “You might be mad at him for what he did, but I lived it. I survived that storm alone. I survived that, Brian, and now you have me, all of me.”

  I do. She’s mine. Placing my hands at the top of the door, I lean into her, pressing my body fully against her frame.

  “I like that you’re mine. Let me show you how much I like it.”

  She lifts her chin as if her mouth is searching for me and I drop my head down, seeking out the sweetness of her tongue against mine, her teeth nipping gently at my lips. Stella knows what her teeth do to me and I retaliate in kind, grinding my pelvis into her slowly, seductively, pinning her to the side of the truck.

  “We’re wearing too many clothes,” she says, breathing heavily and shoving her hands into my jacket, grabbing the T-shirt underneath.

  “It’s chilly out here,” I say, pulling her against me and reaching for the handle to open the back door to my truck. “Maybe we should continue this conversation inside?”

  “Uh huh,” she says, nodding her head and turning around to climb up into the back of the Tahoe, panties peeking out from under the skirt she’s wearing along with her knee-high boots.

  The things this woman does to me, I think as I adjust my jeans and climb up behind her, closing the door after me.

  I’m barely sitting down before she’s straddling my lap, that skirt fanned out to cover us both, and she’s reaching between her legs to find my zipper.

  “Let me help you with that,” I say, a lazy smile falling into place across my lips as I pop the button on my pants and lift my hips up to meet hers. I release the teeth on the zipper. My hand brushes against her bare skin and she lets out a soft appreciative moan. “You’re naughty. Here I thought you were going to make me work a little harder.”

  “No way. I need you, Brian, I need you inside me and I need it fast and hard,” she says, releasing a raspy breath as I lift my hips again to push my jeans and boxers out of the way.

  “Jacket. Inside pocket.” It’s a command. I’m not usually demanding of her, but we haven’t had a chance to talk and I don’t want either of us to feel any guilt until we do. She reaches into my jacket while I make quick work of nibbling along her jaw until I hear the unmistakable sound of the foil wrapper being torn open. Leaning back, Stella lifts off me and slowly rolls the condom down my thick shaft, squeezing the base of it before stroking her hand back up and positioning herself above me.

  I grab her behind, urging her gently down onto me. I know she said she wants fast and hard, but I always want everything with Stella to be slow and gentle and perfect. She has other plans.

  Stella rests her hands on the seat I’m sitting in and starts rocking back and forth on me, lifting up on her knees and plunging back down in piston-like movements, the shock of the force bringing me to the edge quicker than I have since I looked through a copy of Hustler for the first time when I was thirteen.

  I lift up to meet her and feel her muscles constrict around me, her head drops back and a low moan escapes her lips as her hands slide down my chest. I grab her hips as she steadies herself, gripping my knees behind her, and take over where she left off, the angle of her body engulfing mine bringing us closer.

  “Come for me, Stella,” I demand, beg. I feel how close we both are to jumping off that cliff. I need her orgasm. I want to feel her body rock and pulse around me. Slamming my hips into hers once more sets her off like fireworks on the Fourth of July. I pull her face to mine to swallow her cries and muffle my own as my cock erupts in spasms deep within her body.

  Her tongue licks along my bottom lip, lazily trailing along the flesh and eliciting a low rumbling moan from my throat. I press up into her, despite the fact I’m coming down from my own orgasm, and she cries out from the contact, her skin sensitive from the tremors that wracked her body moments ago.

  “That has to be a record for us,” she says, still catching her breath. Her eyes close and a smile plays at the edges of her lips as she lays her head on my shoulder, nuzzling into my neck while I draw figure eights along her spine. I feel her chest start to shake, a laugh working its way out from between her lips. “Did you really try to command an orgasm from me?”

  “Does that not do it for you? I’ve read some trashy romance novels and it works for them every time. I’m shocked you can’t come on command. I thought everyone could do it.” I can’t hold back my laughter and we hold onto one other as our breathing returns to normal, our bodies still melded together beneath that flowy skirt of hers until it feels we need to pull ourselves apart and climb into the front seats for the drive home from Rochester.

  “Thank you ... for today,” Stella says as we come up to a stoplight on the edge of town. We’ve both been quiet since leaving the mall; she spending a majority of the trip worrying her bottom lip, me just worrying.

  I reach for her hand and ask her what’s on her mind because I know there’s something going on in there.

  “I know things are still new with us. It’s been, what, five weeks since my divorce was finalized? So, yeah, this is still really new. But it doesn’t feel that way. The minute you stepped back into my life it felt like that missing piece had been recovered, and I fell in love with you quickly and I fall in love with you more every day because I have you and Britt.” She bites her lip. “But, it doesn’t feel, I don’t know. It doesn’t feel totally complete.”

  I give myself a moment to wrap my head around what she said, forgetting we’re sitting at a stoplight until I hear the horn blaring behind me. Shaking myself free of the fog, I ask her, “What would make it complete?”

  “Everything about that pregnancy test last night felt right, except for the result. I want a family ... with you. I want to make Britt a big brother, Brian.”

  Thank God we live in the middle of nowhere. I pull the Tahoe onto the shoulder of the road and throw it into “Park.” Twisting to look at Stella, my left arm resting on the steering wheel, the conversation hits home.

  “You want to have babies with me? Are you telling me that everything I was feeling last night you felt, too?” She looks me in the eyes, searching them, for what I don’t know. “I was scared to death if that test was positive you’d never forgive me, Stell. I think part of me was convinced it was the last thing you wanted, even though the rest of me watched your reaction. I could see how much it hurt to not be pregnant.”

  “I want to make babies with you, Brian. I want to go to sleep every night with you next to me. I want to be your wife and the mother of your children. All of your children.”

  I reach across the console separating us and pull her to me, locking my gaze on her.

  “Really? You want to marry me and Britt?”

  “More than I’ve wanted anything in my
life.”

  Stella

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  We’re keeping it all under wraps until Christmas.

  The decision was quick and conversation brief before it turned into a make-out session while we were sitting on the side of the road for who even knows how long.

  That came to a halt when we heard a tapping on the window and I peeked over Brian’s shoulder to see a newly familiar face — Officer Max Wyatt. I just put his picture and the Chief’s “welcome to the community” message about him in the paper last week.

  This isn’t how I figured we would meet.

  “Officer Wyatt, how are you?”

  He eyes me suspiciously, and I see his hands move to his hips, his mannerisms both professional and authoritative. Brian’s already reaching past me for the vehicle registration as I continue talking so he maybe won’t draw his weapon thinking ... well, I don’t know what he would be thinking. I’m not usually in this situation. Cops don’t pull their guns unless they feel they have to, right?

  I let my mouth do the talking.

  “I’m Stella, the editor at the local paper. I just ran an article about you and recognized you from the photo the chief sent me. Welcome to the community,” I say, putting on my best “no, I wasn’t almost fucking my boyfriend in this car ... again” smile.

  He’s still eyeing me, but takes Brian’s license and registration, glancing at it with minimal interest.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too, Stella and,” looking at the license again, “Brian. Everything okay? I was on my way back to the station and saw you on the shoulder. Wanted to make sure you weren’t having any car trouble.”

  He clears his throat, a blush creeping up from his collar.

  “No, no car trouble, officer,” Brian says, smiling. “We were just having a really important conversation and felt it would be safer to pull off the road to finish it than risk anyone’s safety.”

  “Well, I do appreciate that,” Max responds, an accent I can’t place tinting his words. It’s not southern, that’s for sure. “Just don’t make out too much longer. Someone else is bound to come through here soon.”