Thomas turns to her with a smile. “You must be Adeline, Cora’s sister. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Adeline smiles and offers him her hand. She’s smitten. I don’t blame her. When Thomas turns on the charm, he’s irresistible. Unless, like me, you know the real Thomas. Then resisting becomes easier.
“I hope all of it was good. And you are?”
“Thomas. Doctor Clarkson.” He takes her hand.
Adeline is impressed. “Welcome to our mother’s home, Doctor Clarkson.” She turns to me, and I know exactly what she’s wondering. How did I ever hook up with a doctor?
People in my family have this thing they don’t go to the trouble of hiding, where they are sure that gym owners have nothing between the ears. So what would a doctor and I have to say to each other?
“He was just dropping me off,” I quickly interject. “Didn’t you say you had to go somewhere?” I stare at him pointedly.
Thomas flashes me a smile. “No way. I’ve texted to cancel. I can’t miss a chance to meet your family, darling. Besides, we have to tell them the news together.”
“News?” Adeline says.
“Mom! You left us!”
My nephews come tearing past us and run to the house. John Mathews joins us on the path, looking harassed. Adeline introduces him to Thomas, and we all move toward the front door, which the boys have left open and swinging on its hinges.
I lag behind, hoping that Thomas does too. He doesn’t and keeps up a conversation with John. I’m going to kill him. You can’t force your way into a family dinner.
We all burst into the house at the same time and find my mom hugging my nephews in the living room. Caleb, Laura, and their little girl Kelsie are already there. Hugs are exchanged all around, and Adeline takes it upon herself to introduce Thomas.
I hug the twins and Kelsie a little tighter than normal. I can’t wait until I give them a little cousin. All along, I feel Thomas’s glance on me, and I do my best not to look at him.
I was so distracted by Thomas that I had not noticed my mom. My jaw drops when I take in her hair. She has dyed it a bright screaming strawberry blonde. Adeline notices it at the same time.
“I love your hair, Mom,” she says.
“So do I,” Laura, Caleb’s wife says.
Caleb and I exchange a look, and then he shrugs and looks away.
“Dinner is ready; let’s all go to the dining room,” Mom says, a grin splitting her face.
I relax then as it dawns on me that we, her family, give her the most joy, but now we’re adults and have our own lives. If dyeing her hair makes her happy, then so be it.
The adults troop to the dining room while the kids are shepherded to a small adjoining room that acts as their little dining room. I help my mom carry dinner to the table.
“Smells delicious,” I say, peering into one of the dishes.
“I get so excited when you’re all coming for dinner that I tend to go overboard,” Mom says. She’s cooked roast potatoes, grilled chicken, pot roast, and a variety of vegetables.
My stomach growls. I’m so hungry; I can’t wait to sit down and sample the food. Laura and Adeline come in to help too, and in minutes, we are all settled around the dining table.
“We’re all surprised by you,” Adeline says, addressing Thomas. “We’ve never heard any mention of you.”
My sister has no filter. What her brain thinks is what comes out of her mouth.
“That’s because I keep my private life private.” I glare at her hoping to shut her up.
“No, you don’t,” Adeline says.
“She does, and I should know,” Thomas says.
“Did I hear someone say you’re a doctor?” Caleb asks. “What’s your specialty?”
“Caleb is an ER doctor,” Adeline tells Thomas. She’s appointed herself his tour guide to navigate dinner. A dinner that he was not invited to.
My brother and Thomas engage in a discussion regarding the state of the county hospitals.
I stuff myself, which turns out to be a huge mistake. I start to feel as if there are men playing baseball in my tummy. I sit back in my chair, hoping the extra space will make me feel better. It doesn’t. Without warning, the dinner I’ve just eaten heaves in my belly. I push my chair back, jump to my feet and run out of the dining room.
I make it to the toilet just in time. As I’m heaving, someone enters the bathroom, rubs my back, and holds my hair back. It doesn’t take long to figure out that it’s Thomas.
Even after flushing the toilet, it still stinks, and I’m sure that my face is pink with embarrassment. Thomas helps me to the sink, and I feel marginally better after brushing my teeth and washing my face. I make a mental note never to throw away the spare toothbrush I keep in my mother’s bathroom.
“Thanks,” I mumble to Thomas when I’m done.
He smiles in a way that seems so genuine. “It’s the least I can do; after all, you’re the one who is doing all the work.”
This is my chance to tell him to leave, but the words stick in my throat. It’s kind of hard to be mean to someone who held your hair when you were throwing up in the toilet. Instead, I smile at him and lead the way back to the living room.
Everyone stares at us as we sit back down.
Of course, my big-mouthed sister is the first to speak. “Are you pregnant?”
I feel as if I’ve been punched in the belly, and for a few seconds, I can’t speak.
“Yes, we are pregnant,” Thomas says.
A stunned silence fills the room. I’m just as shocked as everyone else. We are pregnant? From Thomas? It’s as if someone else has switched places with Thomas. How can he shift from ‘I don’t want a baby’ to ‘we are pregnant?’
My mother is the first to recover. “But you two barely know each other.”
“We first met three years ago,” Thomas says.
“Three years is long enough to know someone,” Caleb says.
“How is that possible when Cora’s never said anything about you?” Adeline asks. “Are you ashamed of him?”
“Don’t be silly,” I snap.
The conversation shifts to how secretive I am. I should come clean and admit that in those three years, I can count the number of times I saw Thomas. I feel bad at the deceit, but I have to admit that it feels good not to have to explain the whole sorry business to my family. I have a black sheep family tag, but if they knew the whole story, they would label me as a lunatic as well.
“I can’t believe I’m going to be a grandmother all over again,” my mother says. “When are you two kids planning on tying the knot?”
My breath hitches. “We’re not ready for that step yet.”
“But you were ready to sleep together without protection,” Adeline says.
“Stop it!” My mom says surprising me. “Lots of people these days have kids without getting married first.”
“Mom!” Adeline protests.
I’m shocked too. Those are not my mother’s normal views. It seems her opinions have changed along with her hair color.
“Life is short and should be lived to the fullest,” she declares and jumps to her feet. “Anyone for some wine?”
That’s another first. My parents had never been drinkers, and unless I’m mistaken, that bottle of wine will be the first-ever to grace this table.
She returns with a bottle of white wine and glasses, which she hands to everyone except me. We watch in reverence as she expertly pours it.
It’s a weird evening, and I can’t wait to get Adeline alone to ask her what she thinks of this woman who has taken our mother’s place.
Chapter 8
Thomas
“I like your family,” I tell Cora when we leave with promises to have dinner again. “They make mine look tame by comparison.”
“Would you believe me if I told you it’s not always like that?” Cora says.
I laugh. “No.” We reach her car. “I’ve had a really good time, thanks.”
�
��I never invited you,” Cora quips.
“I know, and I’m sorry for bulldozing my way into your family dinner.”
“I should thank you also,” she says, looking away. “You saved me. I didn’t know how to tell them any of this.” She waves her hands in the direction of her belly.
“I’m glad I helped.” I peer into her face. She still doesn’t look very well. “How are you feeling?”
“A little nauseous,” she says. “I think I ate too much, and even vomiting doesn’t seem to have helped.”
“I’ll drive you home.”
Cora must be feeling terrible because she agrees without a fight. We leave her car outside her mom’s house and take mine.
“The first few weeks are tough, but it will get better,” I tell her when we’re in my car on the way to her place. I try to get into doctor mode, but I can’t think of her as a patient.
Her mumbled response tells that she’s already falling asleep. I peer at her and see that her eyes are closed. I shouldn’t worry about the vomiting, but I find myself eliminating possible causes. I’m quickly learning that being an obstetrician doesn’t exonerate me from worrying about Cora’s pregnancy. I’ve joined the group of fussy dads-to-be that I’ve always made fun of.
But my worry and thoughts stop with Cora. Every so often, I’ll get excited about the baby, but it’s sporadic, and most times, I can’t wrap my head around the fact that I’ve fathered a baby.
When we get to her place, I nudge her awake. “We’re home.”
She pops her eyes open, a look of confusion on her features. “Oh God, I think I fell asleep.”
“Just for a few minutes. Come on, let’s get you in.”
I help her into the building, and as I open the door, she leans on me. “You just need a good night’s sleep, and you’ll be okay.”
“I feel unbelievably exhausted; it’s tempting to sleep with all my clothes on,” Cora says, leading the way into her bedroom.
She does exactly that, collapsing on the bed. For a few seconds, I stand in one spot, unsure of my next move. I can’t leave her like that. It’s uncomfortable sleeping with all your clothes on, especially now that she’s pregnant.
Making a decision, I go to Cora and proceed to help her out of her clothes while softly telling her it won’t take long. First off is her light jacket. My body betrays me when I lift Cora’s top over her head, leaving her with just a bra on.
I’m glad that although Cora is not completely asleep, her eyes are closed, so she can’t see my rapidly swelling hard-on.
I pull her pants down over her hips, desire burning a hot spot in the pit of my belly. I swallow hard and force myself to concentrate on the task at hand. A task that’s made even more difficult when musky scents waft up to my nose. I almost groan aloud as lust almost overwhelms me.
There’s only one thing left to do, and that is to unclasp her bra. I remember how much Tessa used to look forward to removing her bra at the end of the day. Cora mumbles as I roll her to her side.
When the bra is off, I keep my gaze averted and quickly pull up the bedding to cover her. I let out a big sigh when it’s done.
***
I groan as I become aware of a soft hand fisted around my cock, stroking the length of it. I match the movements by rocking my hips back and forth. As I become fully awake, it dawns on me that first I’m not in my own bed, and second, I’m not dreaming. The hand on my cock is real.
The events of the previous night come to me. I’d debated on whether to go home, but the thought of leaving Cora alone when she was not well had not sat comfortably on me. I’d decided to spend the night. But why didn’t I have my boxer briefs on?
The answer comes to me. I sleep naked at home, and at some point in the night, I’d pulled them off, thinking I was home.
Cora trails soft kisses on my back as her hand drives me wild, leading me to believe that she’s awake. I turn around to face her. Even in the darkness, I can see the white of her eyes. I cup her cheek and brush my lips against hers. She parts her lips, and my tongue slides into the heat of her mouth. She inches closer, and her taut nipples graze against my chest. I kiss her deeply until we’re both panting.
A warning bell goes off in my mind. I shouldn’t be doing this. Having sex again will only complicate matters.
I break the kiss, but instead of pulling away, I slide down until I’m face to face with Cora’s breasts. I push them together and thumb each taut nipple.
“Oh God yes,” Cora cries. Her fingers thread through my hair frantically.
I lick and suck a nipple before moving to the next and then back again. After several minutes during which I shower attention on Cora’s gorgeous breasts, she pushes my head down.
I trail kisses down her belly and down to her pussy. I take her left leg, raise it to rest on my shoulder, and then use my tongue to prob open her folds.
Her loud moans fill the room. She calls my name over and over again. I noisily suck the juices that pour out from her pussy.
“I want you inside,” Cora says. “Please.”
I give her a few more licks before gently dropping her leg. She pushes me to lie on my back in a totally Cora way that I remember. I love it when she takes charge.
I lie back and watch as she gets onto my lap to straddle me. My cock bobs up and down in anticipation of being buried in Cora’s sweet folds.
“You look so beautiful up there,” I tell her.
“I need you,” Cora says in a tone that makes the hairs at the back of my neck rise.
“I’m here,” I respond, surprising myself. A couple of years earlier, a sentiment like that would have got me running for the hills.
Her eyes are glazed over as she takes my cock with one hand, holding it in place as she lowers herself onto it.
“Fuck,” I hiss as my cock stretches her inner walls with every inch that goes in.
When I’m completely in, I sit up and grip her hips and then take a nipple into my mouth. I suck it while my cock swells inside Cora’s pussy. She pushes me back onto the bed and proceeds to ride me. I keep a loose grip on her hips as she moves up and down, her breasts bouncing along. How did I stay away so long from Cora? I’d give anything to have this feeling of being buried in her pussy all the time.
Her walls mold around the length of my cock, milking me with every movement. Cora is definitely every man’s dream woman in bed. She gives everything during sex, holding nothing back.
“I’m almost coming,” Cora cries.
I grip her hips tighter and thrust upward with more force and urgency. I know that she’s coming when her eyes widen, and she lets out a series of loud, throaty cries.
My cock throbs before releasing a string of cum deep inside Cora’s pussy. I shudder and groan and continue pumping through my orgasm. When it’s over, Cora collapses on top of me, and I cradle her, holding her close.
Protective feelings come over me as I hold her. I think about the baby growing inside her. My baby. I’ve heard dads-to-be saying that it doesn’t feel real to them. I can relate to that. I wish I could picture our little girl snuggled in Cora’s tummy, growing by the day.
Cora’s breath returns to normal, and she slides off me. She flicks a switch, and the room is flooded by light. She lies down facing me. “How did you come to spend the night?”
This was from someone who seconds ago was demanding that I fuck her. I’m not sure whether the question is friendly or not.
I turn to my side to face her. Her hair covers her cheek, and I’m tempted to smooth it back, but I don’t. I’m not sure about where I stand. “I felt bad leaving you alone. Do you want me to leave?”
“It’s a bit too late for that,” Cora says, a note of amusement in her voice. “You wanted to talk.”
“Yeah.” I take a moment to gather my thoughts. “I wanted to apologize for the way I acted when you told me that you were pregnant. I’m sorry, and I deserved to have cushions thrown at me.”
She cracks a smile, but the wary look does
not leave her face. If we’re to have a go at this parenting thing together, I’m going to have to be a little more honest with her.
I clear my throat. “There’s something I never told you when we were dating. I was married before.”
Cora’s mouth forms an ‘O.’
Familiar pain creeps into my chest, and I harden my heart. It’s been almost four years. Enough time for the pain to abate, but sometimes I wonder if it ever will. Though, to be honest, I now have moments when I remember something from my past with Tessa, and I laugh.
I really was an asshole. How could I have not told her something so huge like I had been married just months earlier? Then the answer comes to me. If I’d told her about my marriage, then I’d have had to tell her that I’d lost Tessa.
It had taken me years to say that out loud.
“What happened? Divorce?” she says.
I hate this part where I have to explain that we did not divorce, but that wife died. Guilt usually follows, and it’s no different when I tell Cora.
“Tessa died in a road accident.”
Cora covers her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry. Oh God, that’s terrible.”
“It’s four years ago now,” I tell her as if it makes a difference when I lost her. The fact remains that I lost her.
Cora narrows her eyes. “That would mean that when we met three years ago, it had almost just happened. Why didn’t you tell me?”
I shrug. “I’d been in a bad place and could not even bear to think about Tessa let alone talk about her. Anyway, I’m telling you this now so that you can understand why I never want to marry again.”
“I’m not asking you to marry me,” Cora says tightly.
I curse myself. I always say the wrong thing where Cora is concerned. “I know.” I search for the right words. “What I want to say is that I’m not good at relationships.”
She rolls her eyes. “Believe me; I know that.” She has a right to roll her eyes. I’ve been a complete bastard to her.
“After I lost Tessa, I was done with relationships. And of course, that goes for babies too.”
“You should have worn protection then.”
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