by Jiffy Kate
There’s a mess of dark hair and troubled eyes looking back at me, and I no longer crave the warmth from the sun shining through the window. I crave the warmth that spreads through my body as he looks at me. It’s the briefest of moments, but it’s profound. In those few seconds of exchanged glances, I feel like I want to know him . . . like there’s something pulling me to him.
Awkwardly, he stumbles out the door, and my heart clenches. He’s gone, but everything about him is etched into my mind, giving me something to think about other than the darkness and sadness that usually consumes me when I sit in this seat.
Shaking my head to clear it of the sudden flashback from the first day I saw Tripp in the café, I realize I’m not hallucinating or dreaming. Tripp—my Tripp, my Adonis—is sitting behind the wheel of his 1967 Impala, and he’s smiling . . . at me.
He pulls up to the curb, and my heart drops out of my chest. Stepping out, he closes the door behind him and casually leans up against the car. In that instance, I get a glimpse of the old Tripp mixed with the new Tripp. There’s an air about him that exudes confidence and sureness.
I can’t stop my feet from running to him and jumping into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist.
“Surprise,” he whispers as he holds me close. His lips collide with mine, and I decide right then and there that I don’t need another thing in this entire world. I only need him. Just him.
And maybe this car. Because damn if it’s not sexy, especially with him behind the wheel.
“Best surprise ever,” I tell him, kissing his jaw and down his neck, unable to keep the public display of affection at bay. I need him. Want him.
“Wanna take a drive?” he asks, his voice husky and low . . . confident, sexy. He’s killing me in the best way.
I nod, my eyes drinking in every inch of him.
He slowly lets my legs back down to the ground, taking my hand and walking me around to the passenger side of the car. When he opens the door for me, the cockiest smirk is on his lips, and I can’t help but kiss it.
“Get in the car, or we’re never going to make it farther than this corner,” he growls.
I do as I’m told and slide into the seat, fastening my seatbelt, eager to go wherever Tripp wants to take me.
Tripp practically runs around the car, hopping into the driver’s seat and there’s no hesitancy, no nerves. Just him.
My cheeks hurt from smiling so big.
“I’m so proud of you.”
He looks over at me before pulling the sunglasses off the top of his head, back down onto his nose. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”
His hand grabs mine, and he kisses the back of it.
“My Ania,” he whispers, causing need and want to stir deep inside me. He has no idea what he does to me, the way he makes me feel—it’s intense and frightening and wonderful.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask, still trying to wrap my mind around being in this car with Tripp.
“I thought we’d go to Stanley and get some dinner and then maybe drive down to The Fly and watch the sun set over the river,” he says, checking his side mirror before changing lanes.
I nod, agreeing in silence, unable to make a coherent sentence because I’m so dumbfounded by what I’m seeing. I realize to everyone else besides me, and his family, that this would seem normal and like nothing spectacular, but it’s huge. I can’t help staring at him, in awe of him.
We continue driving down the road, the late afternoon sun ahead of us. Tripp throws his arm across the back of the seat, and I melt. I can’t take my eyes off of him as he maneuvers through the streets. I’m paying absolutely no attention to where we’re going, only to the man sitting beside me.
“How long have you been keeping this a secret from me?” I finally manage to ask.
He glances over at me, his smile reaching up to his eyes that are hidden behind the sunglasses. “Only a week or so,” he says, directing his eyes back to the road. “Ben talked me into taking a ride with him, and that’s about all it took. I realized I’m not afraid anymore. The panic was there, but I didn’t run, and that gave me the boost of confidence I needed. The next day, it was him in the passenger seat. Took me a few days to make it out of the neighborhood, but I did it and I wanted to tell you, but I also wanted to surprise you.”
“You did.” My smile matches his, and I want to kiss him so bad. I want to show him how much this means to me; how proud I am . . . how much I love him. “I love you.”
“I love you too. So much,” he says, bringing our hands back up and kissing the back of mine again.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Tripp.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day, my Ania.”
Tripp
6 Years Later
“STAY,” I PRACTICALLY beg when I feel Loren slipping out of bed, trying not to wake me, but it’s too late. The second her warm body separates from mine, I’m awake. I miss her touch immediately.
“Happy Anniversary, baby.” I pull at her T-shirt, trying to keep her in the bed. “Happy Valentine’s Day . . . Happy Reveal Day . . .”
“I love you, and yes . . . Happy everything, but I’ve gotta pee.” She giggles, wiggling out of my attempts to hold her there with me. “Either let me go, Mr. Alexander, or you’ll be changing wet sheets.”
I could hold her forever. I would if she’d let me, but unfortunately nature calls, and it calls damn often these days. “Go, Mrs. Alexander, and then get your fine ass back to this bed. I still have ten minutes before I’m forced to get up.”
I watch as Loren sleepily shuffles to the bathroom. From the back, you’d never know she’s five months pregnant. She thinks she looks like a beached whale, but the truth is, she’s never been more beautiful. Her skin glows. Her hair is shinier. Everything I’ve always loved about her is more pronounced. Not to mention the boobs. The boobs are phenomenal. I have a feeling I’m going to be jealous in a few months.
“What are you smirking about?” she asks as she makes her way back to the bed, snuggling under the covers as I resume my former position of being wrapped around her.
“You.” I kiss the top of her head. “And you.” I slide down her body and kiss her round belly.
“Baby, you’re so sweet. How’d I get so lucky?”
“I’m the lucky one.”
“We don’t have time to have this debate this morning. There’s too much to do before everyone gets here,” she tells me, sighing heavily. “But we do have time to kiss. Kiss me.”
Gladly. She doesn’t have to tell me twice. Shit, she doesn’t have to tell me once. I press my lips to hers and kiss her so hard she’ll still feel it when we’ve gone our separate ways for the day. “I’d like to do more than kiss you,” I tell her, nibbling down her neck and taking a minute to worship at the altar of pregnant boobs.
“I’d like that too, but there’s so much to do.” She groans, probably from a combination of her reaction to what I’m currently doing with my tongue and not looking forward to everything she has to accomplish today.
“Don’t worry, love. I’ll go to the grocery store and stop by the bakery,” I tell her, kissing farther down her body. “All you have to do is be your beautiful self.”
“Your mom and Liza are supposed to be here at four o’clock to help me cook,” she moans, her head pressed back into the pillow as we continue our conversation . . . both conversations.
“See? No worries. They won’t let you lift a finger.”
“I like how you lift your fingers.” Her hips press up into my hand, putting pressure where she needs it the most until her entire body clenches and a brilliant smile breaks across her beautiful face.
“I love you, and not just because you gave me an orgasm.” She chuckles beside me, and I nuzzle her hair, soaking in the last few minutes I’ll get for the day, because I know it’s going to be busy. We’re having our gender reveal party tonight, and everyone will be at our house. The best part is that by the time we’re back in this bed tonight, we�
��ll know what we’re going to call the little peanut growing inside of Loren. We were going to leave it a surprise, but our family hounded us until we couldn’t stand it any longer. Besides, it’ll be nice to be able to plan for the little guy . . . or girl. I don’t care which. Although, the thought of having a girl does make me a nervous wreck. But then, I think about her having wavy brown hair and big chocolate eyes, and my heart melts.
A healthy wife and a healthy baby. That’s all I care about.
“We’re gonna have a baby!” Loren exclaims, her face splitting with the widest, happiest smile I’ve ever seen.
My heart immediately drops out of my chest and back up again, like when I’m on a rollercoaster.
A baby?
We’re gonna have a baby?
Finally, I get my mouth to catch up with my brain and practically scream “We’re gonna have a baby!” Inside the confines of the car, all that can be heard are Loren’s sniffles and my kisses on every inch of her skin that’s exposed. I’m kissing her neck and then her chest, down her arms, her hands, until I’m staring at her flat stomach.
“Hey, peanut,” I whisper to the teeny, tiny baby growing in Loren’s belly, who might not even have ears yet. “I’m your dad.” I want him or her to know I’m out here and that I can’t wait until they are too.
Holy shit, I’m gonna be a dad!
“Yes, you are! And you’re gonna be the best dad ever.”
I look up to meet Loren’s tear-filled eyes. “Did I say that out loud?”
She nods, her face a mixture of tears and smiles. “I love you so much.”
I grab both sides of her beautiful face and pull it to me, sliding my fingers through her hair and kissing her stupid.
Quickly, our kisses turn into more, and Loren is straddling me in the driver’s seat. I chuckle between kisses, thinking that we won’t be able to do this much longer, so we better indulge and get as much car sex in before we don’t fit like this anymore.
“I want you so much. Like, if I can’t have you right now, I might go insane. I want you more than I wanted that pickle with cheese dip earlier.”
Loren has had the craziest eating habits lately. I should’ve known something was going on.
“I want you too, baby. Always,” I tell her, gripping her hips and pulling her against me so she can feel just how much truth is in that statement.
“You have too many clothes on,” she says, moaning into my mouth.
I reluctantly take my attention away from her to pull my shirt over my head, tossing it into the passenger seat. “Lean up. Lemme get these off.”
Loren braces herself on my shoulders, while I pull her panties down her legs and drop them to the floor board. Since she’s wearing a dress, giving me easy access to her fantastic tits, it can stay.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I tell her, as my mouth worships her.
“Just fuck me, Mr. Alexander,” she says with a groan.
“As you wish, Mrs. Alexander.”
I unbutton my jeans and pull my excruciatingly hard cock free, lining up and plunging deep into Loren’s tight warmth. We both sigh in relief and pleasure, needing to be one and feel each other as we move in unison.
One of her hands pushes against the roof of the car, pressing her harder into me, gaining friction where she needs it. I won’t last long. Watching her move above me, combined with her amazing tits bouncing in front of my face, could easily send me over the edge.
“You feel so good, baby.”
“Ah, I’m so close.”
“Come for me, Loren. Let me feel you.”
I slip a hand between us, helping her reach her orgasm. As her legs shake and her body clenches around me, I lose it, thrusting forcefully into her. “Shit! Oh, God. So good, Tripp.”
“Fuck!”
“That was . . .” Loren sighs, leaning forward, resting her head on my chest.
“It always is. My Ania.” I kiss her hair, inhaling her scent, loving her more than I did an hour ago, if that’s possible. “We’re gonna have a baby.”
Loren’s soft laugh fills the car, and I couldn’t be any happier than I am at this moment.
“Tripp,” I hear my mom call as she comes in our back door.
“Kitchen, Mama,” I call back.
“Hey, baby,” she says, planting a kiss on my cheek as she sets a bag of groceries on the counter beside me. “Liza will be here in a few minutes. She stopped by the bakery and picked up the cake.”
“Thanks for your help,” I say, smiling over at her.
“Of course. I want to! You know that.”
“I know, but we appreciate it.”
She starts unloading the bags and buzzing around the kitchen and suddenly lets out a squeal. I turn quickly, thinking something’s wrong.
“Mom?”
“Sorry! I’m just so excited! I can’t wait to find out what we’re having.” Her face is beaming, and I can’t help but return her smile because I’m excited too. And nervous. And anxious. “Aren’t you just dying to know what it is?”
I laugh, shaking my head, because my whole family acts like they’re the ones having the baby. “Yeah, I’m excited.”
“I think it’s going to be a girl.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I’ve had a few dreams, and they’ve all been about girls.”
“Well, that scares the shit out of me.”
“Oh, you’re gonna be wonderful . . . either way. You’re so much like your father,” she says, cupping my cheek. “He’d be so damn proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mama.” Her words mean a lot to me and make me a little sad. I know he’s looking down on all of us, and I know he’s happy about the baby, but I wish he were physically here to enjoy this with us.
Before I can get too caught up in my melancholy thoughts, the back door opens up again, and a noisy Jack, Emmie, and Liza flood the house.
“Uncle Tripp!” the twins exclaim in unison, both giving the other a glare. It’s funny because the older they get, the more they hate when they do things like that. They’re the best of friends, but they both crave their independence. However, if anyone, and I mean anyone, does something to one of them that the other thinks is unfair or mean, watch out. They’re fiercely protective of each other.
“Hey, guys!”
“Where’s Loren?” Emmie asks, sticking her head into the living room.
“She’s upstairs getting ready.”
“I can’t wait to find out what the baby is!” she squeals, sounding just like her grandmother.
“It’s going to be a boy,” Jack says, leaning over the counter.
“It’s so not going to be a boy,” Emmie retorts, rolling her eyes. “It’s going to be a girl. Grandma said so!”
And the fight is on. The two of them are going back and forth about why they think it is or isn’t going to be a girl or a boy, depending on who’s giving their rebuttal. These kids should be on a debate team.
“Jack, can you get the last two bags out of the car?” my sister asks, defusing the argument. “Emmie, go with him, and help him.”
“Sure, Mom,” they both say, fighting over who gets the keys to unlock the car.
“I swear, those two are working my nerves today!”
My mom and I both laugh.
“Just wait,” Liza says, looking at me pointedly across the counter. “Your time is coming. And remember what Dad always said about paying for our raising?” Her eyebrows shoot up, and she shakes the knife she’s using in my direction. And suddenly, I’m scared for my life. “Yeah, well, just think about that, ‘cause you’ve got a lot of raisin’ to pay for.” She snorts, muttering under her breath.
“Could I get you a glass of wine?” I ask because she looks like she could use it.
Mom, Liza, and I work seamlessly in the kitchen, while the kids take over the television in the living room. Loren eventually makes her way downstairs and starts helping with the salad. And just as we’re putting the finishing touches on everything, B
en comes through the back door carrying three large bouquets of flowers.
Always an ass-kisser.
“For you,” he says, handing one of them to his wife and planting a kiss on her. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”
Liza giggles like a schoolgirl, taking the flowers from him. “Aww, baby, you’re so sweet. I don’t care what Tripp says about you.” She shoots me a smirk across the kitchen and winks.
Such a brat.
“And for you,” Ben says, handing another bouquet to my mom. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Mama A.” He kisses her cheek, earning him a big hug from my mom.
“And last but not least . . . For you, mama,” he says, handing a big bouquet of blue and pink flowers to Loren. “Since we’re still not sure what we’re having, I decided to represent both.” His smile shows how damn proud of himself he is.
“Why does everyone act like they’re the ones having the baby?” I mutter, rolling my eyes. Loren leans into me, kissing my cheek and laughing.
“Thank you, Ben! These are beautiful,” she says gratefully, going in search of some vases for all of the flowers.
“I would’ve bought some for you, Tripp, but I didn’t know what color you’d like.”
“You’re such a suck-up.”
“Excuse me? I’m sweet! Ask any of these beautiful ladies!” He motions around the room, and everyone is laughing at his grand gestures.
“Like I said, suck-up.”
“Who’s a suck-up?” Wyatt asks as he and his wife, Olivia, let themselves in the back door.
“Ben,” I murmur.
“I could’ve told you that.”
Olivia heads straight for Loren, rubbing her belly. She’s been doing this for the last two months, every time we’re all together. She and Wyatt have been trying to have a baby for three years now but still haven’t been successful. She thinks rubbing Loren’s baby bump is going to bring her some luck.
“Supper is almost ready,” my mom announces.