by Lacey Black
“It was. Maybe you can read it to me sometime soon. It could be mutually beneficial to both of us,” I tell her, a sly grin on my face.
“I have a feeling it would take us forever to read the book,” she quips.
“Probably, but damn, won’t it be fun working our way to the end?”
“You’re bad,” she says, snuggling into my embrace a little deeper.
“Only with you.”
“How’s work going, Dean?” Emma asks, her eyes twinkling with humor.
“Fine,” I reply, clearing my throat.
“Actually, Grandma, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your little stunt you pulled a while ago?”
“Oh? And which stunt might you be referring to?” she asks sweetly. Of course, I notice her use of the term which, which tells me she’s a regular with the stunts.
“Oh, you know, the one where you added a bunch of zeros to the end of my profit sheet, essentially setting me up for tax fraud.” Everyone around us gasps.
Instead of the sheepish, guilty look I would expect to see on Emma’s face, I see her eyes gleam with something naughty, her smile one of victory. Shrugging her shoulders, she replies, “It worked, didn’t it?”
“What?” Payton and I both say at the same time.
“You two. I knew that hot young man would check everything over before submitting it, and I knew he would call you,” she says to Payton.
“So you set us up?”
“Of course I did! My granddaughter was in the market for a good car mechanic, and by God, I found her one,” Emma proclaims.
“A what?” Ryan asks, as confused as I am.
“I’m not a mechanic,” I say as Payton’s face flushes forty shades a pink.
“I’m not so sure about that. Aren’t I right, Payters?” Grandma asks. All eyes turn to the woman on my lap, whose eyes are wide and her mouth hanging open.
“You’re a sneaky little ol’ woman,” she finally says when she regains her composure.
“But I was right, wasn’t I?”
“How did you know?” Payton asks.
“What in the world are they talking about?” Jaime leans over and asks me.
“No clue,” I tell her honestly.
“Grandma knows everything, Payters,” she says with a coy little smile. “Everything.” They share a look, and even though I have no idea what they’re really talking about, understanding and love passes across their faces.
“Yeah,” Payton whispers sweetly.
“Everything,” Emma says loudly. “I even know about Lexi’s motorcycle ride, Abby’s trip to the preacher’s house, AJ’s extra innings in the dugout, Meghan sneaking in through the bathroom window when I locked her out of the house, and Jaime’s stargazing down by the Bay.”
Gasps are heard from all directions, as the girls’ eyes all bounce from person to person. Shock is written all over their faces, as Grandma just grins and gazes down lovingly at my daughter beside her.
“What is she talking about? What stargazing?” Ryan asks.
“We’ll discuss it later,” Jaime mutters, glaring back at the elder woman.
I’m sure they will. By the way all of the girls are casting their eyes downward, I imagine those instances are probably pretty juicy. And Grandma with juicy details probably isn’t the best situation for all involved.
Catching movement out of the corner of my eye, I glance over and see Meghan arriving to the gathering. Even though we’ve all been here for three hours, she’s just now getting here.
“She went back to work this week,” Jaime says, still sitting on Ryan’s lap beside us.
“Dr. Adams has been wonderful through this whole ordeal,” Abby adds.
Everyone watches Meghan, trying their best not to be noticed, as she busies herself at the food table, getting things ready to go once Brian takes the burgers off the grill. The sisters all glance at each other, their worry and heartbreak written all over their faces.
I found out from Payton that Meghan works as a dental assistant at a small practice in town. Dr. Adams gave her as much time off as she needed after Josh’s death, and has been very supportive and sensitive to her situation. She took just over three months off, and according to Payton, is bored at home and tired of staring at the walls. She’s still in the house that she and Josh rented before he passed away, and I’m not sure she’ll ever be ready to relocate.
Time will tell.
* * *
At the end of the evening, Payton, Bri, and I set out to head home. Those that are left at the gathering all give hugs, and before we can make it to my car, Grandma Emma stops me.
“Here,” she says, stuffing a white gift bag into my hands.
“What’s this?” I ask, moving the tissue paper aside.
“Not yet,” she chastises, smacking my hand. “Wait until you get home and can open it with Payters. Alone,” she adds with a wink.
Why am I afraid of this gift bag?
Before I can turn away, I’m engulfed in a bear hug from a pint sized little ol’ lady. She’s freakishly strong. And in true Emma fashion, it’s only a few seconds later when I feel her hand on my ass. She gives it a quick little squeeze before releasing me. I get another wink before she walks over to Payton to say goodbye.
Not giving it anymore thought, I help Bri get loaded into my car and head towards my place. There are not many cars on the road, even though it’s barely eight o’clock. Unless you’re down at the beach or in downtown, the rest of the town seems to close up when the sun goes down.
Reaching over, I grab Payton’s hand. “You staying with us tonight?” I ask, bringing her hand to my lips.
“Mmmmm,” she purrs like a kitten.
“Yeah, stay with us tonight, Payton. Daddy can make us cheesy eggs and toast for breakfast,” Bri chimes in from the backseat.
“Who am I to pass up cheesy eggs and toast?” she asks, giving my daughter a smile over her shoulder, which makes Bri cheer.
“You know,” I say casually, though my throat is lodged in my throat. “You could just stay with us. All the time.”
I’m testing the Payton waters right now, not really sure how this is going to play out. Sure we’ve mentioned forever in conversation, but never really sat down and talked about moving in together or anything beyond that. I wasn’t planning on broaching the subject tonight, however. It just kinda slipped out, and now there’s no way I’m taking it back.
But if she doesn’t want to move in yet, I’ll respect that. We’ve come a long way in the last few months, and I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. Not that this would, but the idea of us is still a new concept for my fiery brunette.
“Like all the time, all the time?” There’s a hint of panic in her voice.
“That is what all the time means. But if you’re not ready, that’s okay. I just thought that since you’re at my place most nights anyway, we could just make it easier on you. You know, save on gas and stuff.”
“Save on gas.”
“Are you going to repeat everything I say?” I ask, smiling across the front seat at her.
“Yes.” She’s quiet for a few minutes, and I decide to let her think. When Payton needs to work something out in her head, I’ve discovered it’s best to give her time to digest before I push her to talk. So I sit back, not letting go of her hand, and drive home.
Inside, she helps me get Bri into the tub and cleaned up for bed, while I throw in a load of laundry. I’ve also learned to let the girls be during bath time. I’ve always loved helping my daughter with her bath, but there’s some sort of bonding between those two, and it always happens at bath time. I’ll admit, I got a little jealous the first few times Bri requested Payton help her with her bath, but after seeing both of their smiles when they were done, I decided to step aside and let them have their moment together.
When I’m almost done emptying the dishwasher, I hear the familiar footfalls of the woman I love. There’s already a smile on my face when I feel her arms wrap around my waist, h
er cheek pressed against my upper back. “The princess in bed?”
“Waiting on her daddy to come kiss her goodnight.”
Turning in her arms, I wrap my own around her shoulders and pull her in tight. “I should go in there,” I say, my lips finding her forehead all on their own.
“Mmhmmm.”
I give her another kiss before heading off to tuck my daughter into bed.
After a quick story, I make my way to my bedroom. Payton’s already in there, naked, except for this sexy lace negligee. The sight of her makes me stop in my tracks in the doorway. It’s a rich purple color that makes her tits look ten degrees of amazing. My cock is already hardening and I haven’t even entered the room.
“What about my shoes?” she asks, slowly walking my way with a hypnotizing swing in her hips.
“What about them?”
“I have a lot of them. I would need ample space to store them,” she says as she places my hands on her luscious mounds.
“Yes, very ample,” I stutter, my eyes riveted to her breasts as if they held state secrets.
“And what about my makeup? I might need more than one drawer in the bathroom vanity to keep all of my products,” she continues, sliding her hands up my chest, pushing my shirt up as she goes.
“You can take every damn drawer in the bathroom. Hell, I’ll build you a bigger bathroom.”
She offers me a victorious little smile before helping rid me of my shirt. As soon as it’s gone, my hands return to the gorgeous lace-covered tits in front of me.
“And what about HGTV? Are you willing to lose the remote every night so I can have my fix of home improvement shows?” she asks, reaching down and unbuttoning my shorts.
“You can watch whatever you want. I’ll be too busy watching you.”
This smile is award winning. “Such a charmer,” she says before leaning in for a kiss. Her lips are soft and plush and taste like berries. This seems to be her show, so I stand there and let her lead. Her kiss is almost exploratory, slow and tentative, and her hands continue to roam across my bare chest and shoulders.
“Okay,” she whispers against my lips, her little tongue snaking out and licking across the seam.
“Okay?” I repeat, my brain short-circuited with lust.
“Are you going to repeat everything I say?” she mimics from early on the ride home, and I can’t help but laugh. Payton pulls back so I can see the brightness in her emerald eyes. “Yes, I’ll move in with you. It’ll probably take me a little time to sort through things, and my lease isn’t up until July.”
“Well, I think I’ve waited this long for you, I could survive another two months.”
“And I’ll still be over here all the time. Not only do I love your daughter as much as I love you, your French toast skills are killer,” she says with a saucy grin.
As I move her towards the bed, much happier and lighter than I’ve felt in a long-damn time, she sees the white gift bag on top of the mattress. I threw it on there when we got home while the girls were having girl-time in the bathroom.
“What’s that?” she asks, sliding on the bed and reaching for the bag. “Is it for me?”
“It’s for both of us, I believe. Your grandma gave it to me before we left.”
“My grandma?” she asks, her hands stalling on the bag. I can’t tell if she wants to throw it across the room or dive into the blue tissue paper. “Last time she gave a gift, Jaime and Ryan got a cat.”
I join her on the bed. She gives me a look before slowly pulling the tissue paper out and looking inside. I can see a few things, but nothing I can really tell what it is. When she reaches inside the bag, she pulls out a notecard. Removing it from the envelope, she reads it aloud.
When the time is right, I know there’s a baby in your future. Until then, enjoy each other. And enjoy a little extra assistance for makin’ the baby. According to the old wives’ tales, these can all be used to help boost fertility. Good luck and enjoy! And if you ever have any questions about the sex, just call your dear ol’ grandma. I’m very knowledgeable. ;)
Love Grandma & Grandpa
PS: The honey is not actually inserted into the vagina.
I stare down at the card, almost deathly afraid of what is inside the bag. Payton seems just as nervous as I am.
We told her family about her PCOS last month, and everyone was extremely supportive, as I knew they would be. Lexi cried, and Payton told me afterwards that she’s been trying to have a baby with Chris for a few years now. With Payton’s diagnosis, Lexi’s ready to go back to the doc and have herself checked again.
“Honey? Why in the world would she think you would put honey in your…place?”
“Why would she ever think I would call her for sex advice?”
We stare at each other for a few moments before bursting into laughter. “Come on, let’s see what the ol’ woman got us.”
She pulls out a baggy containing a small, shiny rock in a dark grey color. There’s another notecard taped to the bag, and she reads it out loud. “This is a moonstone, used to increase fertility. The tale is that you wash it with cold water, picturing all of your worries washing away. Then place it on a windowsill during a full moon to recharge it. After it’s charged, carry it in your pocket. That’s it. Oh, and sex. Have lots of sex.”
I offer her a small smile as I reach into the bag, pulling out a small jar of organic honey. Of course, there’s a note attached to the jar as well. “Honey is believed to boost fertility. The old wives’ tale says eating honey mixed with a bit of cinnamon will increase blood to our reproductive organs, preparing them for conception. That’s code for sex.”
Payton glances in and pulls out a white porcelain figurine of a woman. “Of course,” she says to me, smiling as she reaches for the attached notecard.
“What?”
“I already know what this is. She gave something similar to Jaime and Ryan for a housewarming present. It’s a fertility goddess statue. You’re supposed to touch it for fertility luck. Though, the one she gave Jaime wasn’t porcelain.” Payton rubs on the statue before setting it aside.
Together, we glance down and find one last item in the bag.
I pull out a notecard, but it’s not attached to anything. Glancing at her, I read. “According to the old wives’ tale, the best way to ensure fertility is to conduct the ritual baby dance under the full moon. Now, I’ve been practicing this dance on your behalf, even though the full moon is actually tomorrow night. Practice makes perfect, Payters. Remember that. Anyway, head outside and let the music of the night sway you into a dance. You can do it naked, which is how I’ve preferred thus far. Let your body naturally move, letting yourself go, your mind clear. And if that doesn’t work, follow it up with the sex. Now, go! Be free! Sex it up and make the babies. We love you, Grandma and Grandpa.”
She’s silent for a few moments, pulling my attention towards her. “Don’t you find it weird that your grandma was practicing the baby dance?” When I glance down, I see she’s holding the stone in her palm, the faintest smile on her lips.
“I can’t believe her,” she mumbles.
“It’s all pretty wild, right?”
“You should have grown up with them,” she quips goodheartedly.
“So, honey on our toast tomorrow, right?” I ask with my own smile.
“Definitely. But you know what I think?” she asks, setting the bag and all of the stuff down on the nightstand.
“What’s that, sweetheart?”
“We should dance.”
“Dance?”
“You know, together. Because practice makes perfect.” Payton throws herself against me, knocking me down onto the mattress.
“This is my kinda dance,” I say as she straddles me, my arms sliding up her outer thighs.
She’s a goddess as she stares down at me, her hair hanging over her shoulders and almost touching my chest. Her breasts almost spilling from the top of her lace negligee, she’s the vision of perfection. My woman. The wom
an I love.
“This is my favorite dance, too,” I say reaching the junction of her legs.
“Best. Dance. Ever.”
I pull her down to meet my lips, hungrily and full of love. She’s everything I didn’t even realize I wanted in a woman, in a friend, in a partner. Eventually, I’ll make it official, but right now, I think we’ll just enjoy the hell out of fertility dancing in my bedroom. Even if we never conceive a baby, I’ll be happy as long as she’s by my side. She’s all I need: her and my daughter.
Before she can say a word, I roll us over so that she’s flat on her back. I’m nestled between her thighs, my erection clawing through my pants. She looks up at me with a look of lust mixed with love. It’s my favorite look on my favorite woman.
She’s panting beneath me and we’re just getting started. Started on making love, but also starting something much bigger, much greater in the universe. There’s no need to dissect it right now, because as long as she’s in my arms, I know I’ve got all I need.
Tonight, yes.
Tomorrow, definitely.
Forever, God I hope so.
“This is my kinda night.”
Epilogue
Payton
It’s a Summer sister tradition that on the first Saturday of each month, the six of us get together. We take turns picking the location or activity, anything from margaritas and a movie to wine and painting classes at the small gallery uptown. One thing, though, is as certain as the sun rising over the Chesapeake Bay every morning; there will be alcohol involved.
Always.
Tonight, we’re enjoying the glorious June night by playing bags in the garden at The Beaver. Jaime voted for putt-putt golf, but we all vetoed her choice as soon as we saw a set of beanbags boards open. We are three teams of two, and the drinks are flowing like the salty water of the Chesapeake Bay. Laughter rings out over the sounds of the beanbags hitting the boards at our feet.
But the best part about tonight? Meghan is here, and Meghan is smiling.
After only a bit of begging, pleading, borrowing, and then even more begging, which may or may not have included siccing Grandma on her, she finally agreed to join us for our monthly sisters’ night out. We felt it important to change up the routine, so I stopped by and picked her and Abby up.