Through the Wooden Door

by K Carr

  Connor wrapped his arms around Jen and bent his lips to her ear as Rose started to shepherd Meg out the living room. “Are you ok?”

  She turned around in his arms then laid her head on his shoulder. “I think so. I’m tired.”

  He tightened his arms around her and pressed a kiss against her forehead. “I’ll get dinner sorted then straight to bed for you.”

  “Ok.” Jen didn’t pull away as he expected her to. She stood there in the circle of his arms and inhaled deeply.

  “Do you know what?”

  “Hmm?” Jen leaned back in order to look at him. “What?”

  “I think we’re going to be ok.” he said. “I really do.” She ducked her head and lightly patted his chest before pulling away. Connor caught her wrist, saying with much more firmness, “I promise, we’ll be ok.”

  “Ok,” Jen flashed him a quick smile and tugged her wrist free from his flimsy hold. “I believe you.”

  Connor scratched his Adam’s apple, watching her hurry after Rose and Megan. She didn’t look as if she believed him, not one bit. Well, he had time to reassure her. More than enough time, the rest of their lives to be exact. He followed her out the living room and the four of them congregated in the kitchen.

  “Ok,” Connor walked over to open the fridge and check what was available to cook. “How about steak for dinner?”

  “Can we get food from that place?” Megan asked.

  “Which place, Meggie?” Connor sought clarification. He moved aside a tub on the middle shelf. “Hey we’ve got loads of broccoli here. I can do a nice broccoli salad with the steak.”

  “The place,” Megan emphasized. “The one with the green bag.”

  “Green bag?” Jen had pulled one of the stools out for her mom and was now pulling one out for herself. “You mean the one with the flower on it?”

  “Yes,” Megan nodded enthusiastically at Jen. “That one, Mom. Can we get food from there?”

  “The Thai place?” Connor shut the fridge door and spun around towards the island where Jen and Rose were sitting. “Is that the one Meggie’s talking about?” Jen answered his question with a nod. Connor chewed his inner cheeks, slightly insulted. “Don’t you like my broccoli salad? It’s healthy.”

  Meg shrugged and wandered over to the centre island. “I like it,” She pulled on the stool next to Rose, awkwardly dragging it out before stepping up to plonk down on the seat. “I just like the vegetables thing, the spicy veggies. I like that. Can you make that, Dad?”

  He glanced at the three of them sat by the island. His mother-in-law, his wife, and his daughter. Jen wasn’t a carbon copy of Rose, but there was a resemblance which had filtered through to Megan’s features. He wondered about their unborn son. Cory had favoured him a lot. Connor swallowed against the tightness in his throat. Would the new baby resemble him as Cory had? What if the new baby looked like Cory? Oh god. Would Jen be able to handle that? Would he?

  “I can do the steak or we can order takeout,” Connor gave her the only two options available as he tried not to dwell on the unknown features of his unborn son.

  “Takeout,” Megan decided.

  Connor looked at Rose.

  “Takeout,” Rose said, quickly adding, “As long as it’s not too greasy, or salty.”

  “It isn’t, Grandma,” Meg assured her with a knowing tilt of head. “Mom and I ordered it last week when Dad was late-” she stopped abruptly then giggled when Jen gave her a pointed look as if to say ‘shhh, it’s secret’.

  “And you, sweetheart?” Connor walked over to where Jen sat. He started rubbing her neck. “Do you want takeout?”

  “I don’t mind,” she murmured then flashed him a small smile. “The food is nice from that restaurant.”

  “Ok,” He bent forward to press a kiss against her head. “I’ll get the menu and order some food.” Before he moved off to go find the menu, he ran a hand down her back and patted her butt, well out of anyone else’s eyesight. Jen snorted under her breath and he stepped away with a smile on his face. They would be alright. They had to be.

  “Grandma, what shall we call the new baby?” Meg started rotating the seat of her stool in semi-circles.

  “We’re a long way off names,” Jen warned her as she got off her stool and stretched. She followed him over to the counter where they kept the recipe books and takeout menus, and plucked the menu out before he could.

  “Thanks.” He winked at her and she winked back. They were going to be ok.

  And he needed to up his prayers of gratitude.

  Chapter 15

  “A what?” Connor stuck his head out of the en-suite. “I’m sorry, but what did you say?”

  Grunting from discomfort, I swung one leg out of bed then eased myself into a half-sitting position before swinging my other leg out of bed and finally sitting up. My third trimester always sucked ass, add to that it wasn’t even 7am yet.

  “Home birth,” I grumbled then tried to stretch, but the pressure it put on my tummy meant I couldn’t do a full out ‘feel the bones pop and settle back into place’ stretch. I could only do a third trimester stretch, which didn’t give the same type of relief, and it sucked ass. “I’m thinking of maybe doing a home birth this time around.”

  Connor walked out the en-suite with a towel slung around his shoulders while slowly fixing another towel around his waist. He looked at me as if I was missing a few marbles. “A home birth, like actually have the baby here? At home?”

  “Yes, Connor,” I rolled my eyes, irritable for no other reason than the fact I couldn’t stretch the way I wanted to. “The clue is in the name.”

  He scowled at me then grinned. “Someone’s cranky.”

  “I can’t stretch.” My complaint came with a pouty mouth. “And I want something savoury but sweet at the same time.” I started tapping my bare feet on the carpet in frustration. “And I feel as if I need to poop but I pooped last night and-”

  “And as much as I love you,” Connor interjected. “I don’t want to talk about pooping this early in the morning, Jen. Now what’s this home birth thing you’re talking about? It sounds,” He adjusted the towel around his waist and started drying his hair with the towel slung around his shoulders. “Dangerous.”

  I snorted, it was an equal mix of reproach and amusement. “It’s not. What do you think women did before hospitals were created? It’s even in your story book,” I kept my expression blank as he sent me a quizzical look.

  “Story book?”

  I nodded as my lips started to quiver. Oh, he was going to get irritated, but why should I be the only one annoyed this early Sunday morning? “Yes, the bible.”

  Connor exhaled slowly, peering at me from under the towel as he vigorously rubbed his hair. “I’m going to pray for you at church this morning.”

  “Mhmm,” I rolled my eyes and began the chore of standing up. “Yeah, thanks.”

  Connor immediately came over to help me. When I was standing, he laid a hand over my stomach; gaze softening with delight as he gently stroked me through my top.

  “How’s my baby doing this morning?” he cooed.

  “Baby’s fine.” I flicked his hand away and he reluctantly returned to towel-drying his hair. “And Meg said she’s not going to church with you today.”

  “What?” He stopped drying his hair again. “But she said yesterday she would come to first service-”

  I shook my head, halting his words. “Changed her mind.”

  “When?” he groused, glancing at the clothes he had laid out for himself before showering. “She was definitely up for going to church this morning.”

  I shrugged and tried to do a semi-stretch, much better standing up than sitting down. “She heard me talking to Mom on the phone last night about our plans to get some more clothes for the baby and she told me last night when I tucked her in that she wants to go with us.” I shrugged again and gave him a sympathetic look.

  “But today is the day they sort out who’s doing what for the specia
l Christmas service. They have to decide well in advance. She said she wanted to be in the choir this time and-”

  “Nope,” I scratched my neck, then my shoulder. My skin felt thin and itchy this morning. “I don’t think she wants to do that anymore, hon.”

  “Yes, she does.” he contradicted me. “I know she does.”

  I raised a sardonic eyebrow and slowly shook my head. “She does not. Didn’t she tell you about the little tiff with – ugh – what’s the kid’s name?”

  “What tiff?” Connor undid the towel at his waist and started drying the few remaining drops of moisture on his body. He had dried off in the bathroom after his shower but missed a few spots it seemed. I wasn’t complaining. Oblivious to my salacious gaze, he roughly rubbed his chest. “With someone from church?”

  The kid’s name popped into my head amidst my thoughts of marital relations, and my quickly dwindling positive reaction to Connor’s sexy body. “Darla.”

  “You mean Harper? Meggie’s friend from Sunday school?” Connor was now rubbing his right side and flashing me in the process.

  “Darla, Harper,” I did another semi-stretch. “Same thing. Anyway, this Harper told Meg that her parents said people need to be better Christians or God would destroy the earth again,” I widened my eyes in mock-horror. “Harper said her parents said all these droughts and storms and earthquakes – these are all signs from God and we need to listen,” I was grinning at how ludicrous it sounded. “Meg told her it had nothing to do with God and everything to do with climate change and how we’re destroying the earth ourselves.”

  Connor paused, mouth hanging open with begrudging humour fighting for release on his face. “She didn’t.”

  I nodded. “Yes, she did; told Harper we only have ourselves to blame if the earth goes boom because we damaged it by being greedy.”

  “What happened next?” Connor tossed the towel at me. I caught it and wriggled my eyebrows at him. With his hair all wild from his previous towelling, and the other towel slung around his neck – ah. Connor remained a good-looking man.

  “Harper called her a non-believer and threatened to tell the Sunday school teacher. Meg called her a dummy and told her to read a book.”

  “No,” Connor covered his mouth with one hand. “She didn’t.”

  I nodded and shook the towel out so I could fold it in half. “She did. Remember how Mom and I were talking about how the human race has similar characteristics to a virus?”

  Connor squinted at me. “When was this?”

  I slung the partially folded towel over my arm and waved his question away. “You must not have been home yet. Anyway, we were talking about it and Meg was there doing her homework and she asked Mom if humans were bad for the earth.”

  Connor started shaking his head already. “Really, Jen?” His mouth was twisting into a frown. “Really? What did your mom say?”

  “Nothing but the truth,” I said in my mother’s defence as I handed the towel back to Connor. Then mischievously teased, “And isn’t telling the truth one of the major plotlines in your story book?”

  Connor huffed and moved off towards the chair where he’d laid out his clothes. He tossed the towel I had just handed him on the floor. “Disrespectful.”

  I laughed while silently thinking his treatment of the towel was also disrespectful. “I’m sorry, you’re right, but back to the girls; Meg told Harper she should learn more about the earth and how we can save it by recycling and planting trees,” I smiled to myself. “She’s sweet. I keep telling her the big companies are the ones driving the pollution and as much as we try to do our part it could never counteract the pollution being caused by the big companies.”

  Connor spun around, hand on waist and scowling at me pretty hard. “That’s such a defeatist attitude towards it, Jen. Don’t tell my Meggie that.”

  I shrugged and started rolling my head around my neck. Oh, it felt good. “It’s the truth though.”

  Connor walked over, still only wearing the one towel around his neck. He placed one hand behind my neck and gently rubbed. “Nice?”

  “Mhmm,” I closed my eyes, enjoying the light massage.

  “So Meggie doesn’t want to go to church with me because she had an argument with Harper,” he summarized. “And now by default I’ve got beef with Harper and her parents.”

  I guffawed in amusement, loving the fact he understood the unspoken rules. “Uh hmm, don’t talk to them until this thing between Meg and Harper blows over, ha, if it ever does.” I advised. “Do the shoulders, babe.”

  He did as I demanded with a low chuckle, then I felt the whisper of his lips against my cheekbone. “I find you incredibly sexy right now,”

  I leaned back and cracked one eye open as Connor continued to rub my shoulders. He wagged his eyebrows at me then let his gaze drop. I instinctively followed his gaze and snorted at the apparent proof to back up his words.

  “There’s something about you when you’re pregnant,” he murmured as his hands slid down my arms. “It turns me on, more than usual,”

  I had both eyes opened now, and a tiny smirk appeared on my lips. History had proven he was being truthful. Connor did seem to get extra handsy when I was pregnant. “You know,” I began, pausing when he started playing with the band of my pyjama bottoms. “They’ve actually done research on that.”

  “Mmm?” Connor stuck one hand underneath my top around the back while the other edged the side of my pants down. “Interesting.”

  “They say there are a few reasons behind it,” The air hitched in my throat when he caught my earlobe between his teeth.

  “Really?” he murmured distractedly.

  “Yes,”

  “Is one of the reasons deriving enjoyment from watching one’s wife climax multiple times?”

  I arched an eyebrow. Multiple times? I was lucky if I managed to orgasm once before feeling discomfort due to my girth. “Uh, that one didn’t come up in this particular study, but,” I shrugged. “Who knows, you might be right.”

  Connor suddenly stuck both his hands underneath my top and began running them up and down my back. “So sexy.”

  “Hormones,” I advised. “The report said it could be due to the increased hormones in a woman’s body during pregnancy; makes your skin glow, your hair gets extra luscious and vibrant.”

  “Mmm,” Connor pulled me as close as the bump allowed us to get and lowered his head so he could kiss along my shoulder.

  “Or the fact you’re fertile,”

  “Mhmm,” he took a tiny nip of flesh and I squeaked. “Fertile, yes.”

  “Because you’re pregnant,” I explained. “It shows you’re healthy, a breeder, potential mates look at those things sub-consciously.”

  Connor raised his head, squinting hard as he drawled, “Potential mates? Ain’t no potential mates besides me. Do other people eye you up too? That’s weird, Jen. Point them out to me if it happens when we’re out.”

  I snickered. “Says the man who gets extra horny when I’m pregnant,”

  “It’s my baby inside you,” Connor huffed in exasperation. “I’m allowed. It would be weird if I was lusting after some random pregnant lady,” His eyebrows shot up. “It would be too damned weird if some random guy was lusting after you.”

  “Anyway,” I continued. “That could be the reason, the fact it shows fertility.”

  “Ok,” Connor nodded. “Fertility, got it.”

  “But you do have people who want to do you just because you’re pregnant,”

  Connor was back to scowling. “So you’re admitting guys have been eyeing you up? Jen, you need to tell me when it happens-”

  “Not me,” I snorted, then moaned when he started gently kneading my lower spine. “Oh, that’s nice. I meant there are specific groups of people who actively seek out pregnant women, women impregnated by someone else mind you, to have sex with, it’s their kink.”

  “Huh,” Connor grunted.

  “Don’t judge,” I lightly chastised. “To each
their own-”

  “It’s a weird kink,” he stated and now used both hands to massage my lower back.

  “You know,” I was grinning. “There are people who pay for breast milk,”

  Connor’s scowl deepened. “I hope you’re talking about medical usage, for premature babies and whatnot,”

  I slowly shook my head. “Bodybuilders.”

  “Shut. Up.” he growled.

  “It’s supposed to help them with their gains.” I shuddered. “I would happily donate to a hospital, but the thought of some random adult guzzling my boob juice,” I shuddered again.

  Connor sighed, loud and hard. I peered into his blue gaze which immediately dropped before returning to my face. He lowered his gaze again and I followed it. Oh. His previous hardness was fast disappearing. Releasing a sound of mild irritation, he said, “Thanks. Now neither one of us is going to come this morning.”

  I leaned into him, or as much as my stomach allowed me to, and kissed the underside of his jaw. “Sorry?”

  “Do that again,” he murmured.

  I kissed his jawline this time.

  “Mmm,” Connor gripped my hips. “Again,”

  I smiled and kissed the base of his throat which elicited a husky sound from him. He pulled back so he could angle his head down and claim my mouth in a deep kiss while his hands slid from my hips to palm my ass.

  “I think we’re back in business,” he said.

  “I don’t know what you think is going to happen,” I warned playfully. “But I very much doubt it aligns with how I’m feeling right now.”

  “Not frisky?” he cajoled, resuming the peppering of my face with soft kisses.

  “Not as frisky as you,” I clarified.

  His eyebrows shot up, framing his hope-filled blue eyes. “So a bit frisky?”

  It was best to nip this in the bud. “It’s not been that long since we last-”

  “Three and a half weeks,” Connor cut me off, already giving me a slow nod of disappointment. “Yep. That’s how long it’s been, Jen.”

  I shrugged and planted my palms against his stomach, which made him groan, then gave him a little push. “I don’t feel up to getting poked with your dick, Connor.” I rubbed my extended stomach. “You’ve done enough poking, thank you very much.”