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After The Fall: A collection of Matt and Abby short stories

Page 3

by Claudia Connor


  “Are you kidding? Damn. I’m sorry, babe.”

  “It’s okay. Just a mix up.”

  “Wonder what he did,” Matt said.

  “I know. Me too. And since I have the flowers—”

  “Rhonda doesn’t.”

  “Right. I just called the florist so hopefully Rhonda will get her flowers and Tyler’s apology.”

  They finished their call and she spun around, trying to remember what she’d been on her way to do when the doorbell rang. “Laundry,” she said as it came to her. She opened the dryer and pulled out the lacy, little number she’d bought last week. A red top with tiny straps and matching panties which is she she’d washed it before wearing.

  She couldn’t wait to see Matt’s face when she came out of the bathroom. Maybe she’d do a little dance, a little striptease. She pulled the silky top out—only it wasn't smooth and silky anymore. It was wrinkled and scrunched up and… very, very small. Like Mary size small.

  “Oh, crap. Please no.” She held it up for closer inspection and wanted to cry, but her phone rang, not giving her a chance.

  The school again. Gracie had thrown up.

  This was a bigger problem than cupcakes.

  IT WAS ALMOST nine-thirty that night before Matt got Abby in a room alone. He closed the door then watched Abby fall back on their bed with a sigh.

  Matt crawled onto the bed and laid down beside her, letting out a deep sigh of his own. “Not exactly what I had in mind for our first Valentine’s Day.”

  Abby gave a wry laugh. “No. Me either.” She tugged a the sweater she’d had on all day. “I was going to seduce you in this new lingerie I bought.”

  Matt rested his hand on her belly. “Don’t let a few vomiting kids stop you.”

  She turned her face to him and smiled but there were tears in her eyes. “It’s ruined.”

  “Hey, it’s not ruined.” He kissed her lips. “As long as I’m with you—”

  “No, the lingerie is ruined. I wanted to wash it first but then I put it in the dryer and… It’d barely fit the cat now.”

  “Hmm.” His fingers found the edge of her sweater and slipped under to caress the bare skin of her stomach. “I don’t think Mr. Whiskers would appreciate that. Although you never know. He does have some unusual tendencies,” he added about the stray tabby that had come to visit and stayed.

  Abby rolled to her side and threw her leg over his hip, bringing them closer. “Can you believe it was just over twelve hours ago we were laying here with our day perfectly planned?”

  “Yeah. If this had been a mission, it would have been called a cluster fuck. But…” His palm slid around to her back then down over her bottom. “I was always pretty good at moving the team to plan B.” He pulled her solidly against his growing erection.

  “Really?” Abby pressed her center against his growing erection, making him groan. “And what’s your plan B?”

  “It definitely involves getting you out of this sweater.” And he made quick work of that goal.

  “Now what?”

  He rolled her to her back and laid a path of open mouth kisses between her breasts. The low light near the door cast their silhouettes onto the wall, one shadow. He slid one cup of her plain white bra aside. “You know that lingerie would have come off anyway. This is what I want.” He took her nipple between his lips. “Right here.”

  When she was gasping and pulling at his hair, he moved to take her mouth.

  The kiss was soft at first, a slow exploration of tongues and gentle caressing hands. But as always, it quickly turned to possessive and desperate. He kissed her neck, her shoulders, her mouth, until she was quivering under him.

  Abby slid her hands under his shirt and up his chest. He sighed at the feel of her hands on his skin. “Off,” she said, fighting the shirt over his head. Then her fingers were digging into his shoulders as his tongue stroked hers.

  He moved to the curve of her neck and shoulder, brushed his lips there. When her breath quickened he nibbled his way across her jaw, came back to her mouth. The kiss was long and deep, and while he tasted and savored, his hands roamed lightly over her face, speared into her hair.

  It was the sweetest torture, making love to his wife. He had no intention of rushing it.

  He left her just long enough to get rid of the rest of his clothes, then hers. She raised her arms, silently calling him back, but he took his time. Let his gaze linger on her face, watching her as his hands roamed down her torso, along her hips, stroked up her thighs.

  He dipped his head, dragged his lips up her stomach, molded his hands around her breasts.

  He slept beside her every night, and still her scent, her taste, made his heart race. There was this physical need for her, but also an emotional one. To touch her, to feel the love in her kiss and know it was also in her heart.

  Their love was a miracle that rose higher inside her with every touch. She moaned as his tongue came back to the swell of her breast. He drove her mad with teasing kisses, cupped one breast in his hand while he teased her other nipple through the fabric of her bra. She heard his quiet moan of pleasure merge with her own.

  Her hips arched, and her fingers dug into his shoulders, raced over the warm skin over solid muscle. His body was rock solid against hers and her hands caught at his hair, pulled his mouth to hers. Her mind was full of him, a whirlwind of sensation.

  She wanted to touch, to taste, all of him, everything. But his hand was between her thighs and he used it to take her up the first time. Up and over bringing a sob from her lips and leaving her body lax.

  Matt watched her face as he tugged away the last pieces of clothing. She was hot and wet and so, so soft. His mouth found her again as their desperation increased.

  She spread her thighs wide and he slid through her hot, wet folds. And when she wrapped her legs around his hips, he pushed deep inside with one long thrust. Abby gasped and moaned her pleasure, tightening the hold she had on him.

  He stayed like that a moment, both of them still like they did sometimes, dragging it out. Slowing it down.

  His hands moved to cup the sides of her face, their eyes held in a silent exchange of love and need and promises. Abby was the first to move, arching her hips up with a whimper in the back of her throat.

  With his heart pounding, he filled her with one long stroke. Buried in her soft heat, he groaned at the pleasure, let her pulse through his system. Her hips lifted, and beat for beat they moved together, eyes locked. Her hands groped for his, found and held.

  There was only the two of them, only this. The slide of flesh, the pulse of hearts. Giving and taking until he heard her gasp, felt her tighten around him. He watched her face, her eyes closed, mouth open on a gasp. Then he plunged one more time and followed her over.

  ABBY LAY LIMPLY, eyes closed, lips curved at the feel of Matt’s body collapsed on top of hers. With one arm wrapped around his wide shoulders, the fingers of her other hand slipped slowly through the hair at his nape.

  She could feel Matt’s heart beating against hers. This was her favorite time—okay, second favorite—when Matt was still inside her, her core still pulsing with small tremors.

  He wouldn’t stay there long, always afraid he was too heavy for her. And so, after another minute passed, he rolled and shifted until she had one leg slung over his and her cheek rested on his chest just above his heart.

  “Damn,” he muttered and the sound vibrated through his chest.

  “What?”

  “I didn’t even give you your card or flowers. I was on my way to get a do–over there when you called me about Jack.”

  She smiled and kissed his chest. “I forgot to give you yours, too. What did my card say?”

  “It wasn’t nearly as wordy as Tyler’s.”

  Abby laughed. “I should hope not.”

  “It said, I love you and thank you for being my Valentine.”

  Abby raised up so she could see his eyes, then caught his face in her hand. His hand came up to cup he
r cheek as well and her heart swelled. “I liked hearing you read it to me. And I love you, too. This has been the very best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had.”

  Matt looked at her a long time. So much emotion in his eyes, she felt tears well in her own.

  “Mine, too,” he finally said. “And...” He reached over to the bedside table. She heard him fumble around with what sounded like a small box before he rolled back with something dangling from his fingers. “Something for my Valentine.”

  Her breath caught at the beauty and the sweetness. On a delicate silver chain hung a tiny diamond studded heart–shaped cut out dangling loosely over a bar of iridescent pearl. It was small, simple, and beautiful. Something she could wear always, never taking it off.

  She swallowed against the thickness in her throat. “It’s perfect.”

  “So are you. Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”

  “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  3

  Master Chief

  WHILE HIS WIFE did the afternoon run to dance and scouts with kids one through three, Matt stood watch over four and five. Standing watch was an accurate description, he thought, as he peered down at Mary where she lay on her back in her crib.

  Looking like an angel in the white knit dress Abby had put on her that morning, her arms rested up beside her face in her “under arrest” position. The soft sweater–like material gathered gently at her little wrists. Abby had made the dress herself, with tiny stitches of the softest yarn.

  Mary lay peacefully on white sheets. Most of the room was white and a soft, muted green, with pale plum walls and accents. He knew this because he may not be a decorator but he did know how to listen and follow his wife’s directions. Abby was the decorator. Whisper soft, he touched a finger to Mary’s hand. She didn’t stir.

  It never got old, he thought, watching his baby girl sleep, watching her wake up. He gazed down at this little light of his life who sighed and smiled in her sleep like the beautiful gifted child she certainly was.

  Mary was three and half months old now, and with every new joy as she grew, there was a pang in his chest that it was going entirely too fast.

  Doug “Loogie” Ellis had texted an hour ago to say he and Bob Decker were coming by. He hadn’t seen either of his former SEAL teammates since his wedding. They’d been down range and were heading out again soon. But he had his own daily missions now. His team was just a little smaller these days. And cuter.

  As he often did, he actually willed the baby to wake up. Matt glanced at his watch, saw they were on the leading edge of nap restriction. Abby had left him with a kiss and some gentle encouragement that he let Mary get in a good nap, going so far as to insinuate how personally worth his while she would make it.

  He smiled at that thought. The baby. The kids. His work. And his wife. He absolutely couldn’t imagine how life could be any better. His cell buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out.

  We’re here. Stealth arrival as ordered.

  Matt gave Mary another look, then went to greet his friends. Kids artwork and a grouping of photographs dominated the long hallway wall. There was an eight by ten portrait of all seven of them, Charlie on his shoulders and Annie holding baby Mary. He hadn’t been entirely excited about the outdoor photo shoot, but he had to admit it was well worth it.

  The photograph had captured the children perfectly and he’d hung smaller framed images around the larger one. Gracie laughing, her face to the sky as she flung white flower petals in the air. Another of Jack and Charlie, poking sticks in an aged cement fountain. That was his life, his family, and at the center of it were he and Abby.

  It was a moment he remembered clearly, captured just after the wedding. Just the two of them at the back of the church, his wife’s face turned up to his, and him, gazing down at her with so much love it still made his heart squeeze.

  When Matt opened the door, Bob grasped his big hand tightly in his own. “Good to see you, man.”

  “You, too. And good to see you still follow orders,” Matt said with a smile and a slap on the back for Loogie.

  “You know it.”

  Matt had ordered them not to ring the doorbell. Hadn’t thought that one all the way through though because he really wanted to show off the baby. He stepped back to they could come inside and closed the door. “You two staying out of trouble or causing it?”

  Bob laughed. “Depends who you ask. And when.”

  “You going to keep us standing there or do we get to see that baby?”

  “Yeah,” Bob agreed. “Show us the goods. If we wanted to see your ugly mug, we’d come by one of your house projects, help you kick out some walls.”

  Matt smiled. His business of flipping houses couldn’t be going better and there was never a shortage of guys who wanted to beat the hell out of something with a sledge hammer. “Follow me, gentleman.”

  He led them upstairs and to the small room at the end of the hallway. “Behold,” Matt said softly, then pushed the nursery door open. Doug and Bob moved in slowly, both of them edging closer to the crib so carefully you’d they were canvassing a mine field.

  “Damn, man,” Loogie whispered reverently.

  “She’s cute,” Bob said. “She’s not going to like…wake up is she?”

  “You scared of a baby, Bob–O?”

  “No, I just think—”

  Mary jerked in her sleep and pursed her tiny rosebud lips for a moment before she stilled.

  Bob took two giant steps back from the crib, his hands up in surrender.

  “Hey, baby girl,” Matt said, taking Bob’s place at the crib. “Haven’t you had enough shut eye?” He reached in for his littlest princess.

  Bob grabbed his arm. “What are you doing?”

  Matt glanced back at his old teammates, both standing tense and at the ready. He’d led these men into battle, fought through some damn sticky situations, yet he didn’t think he’d ever seen them look so uneasy. “I’m picking her up.”

  “Why would you do that? Where’s the kids mother?” Loogie looked behind him like he expected to see some professional help standing in the doorway.

  “I don’t need Abby,” Matt said, offended. “She’s my daughter, idiot. I pick her up all the time.” Matt slipped his big hands under her and as always was struck by her small size, the slight weight of her tiny body. He gently put her to his shoulder. “She won’t bite.”

  “I know that,” Loogie said, soundly slightly offended.

  When Matt shifted Mary away from his shoulder, Bob threw his hands out at the sudden movement as if Matt might drop her.

  “Have I ever dropped anything I shouldn’t drop? Give me some credit here.”

  Bob must have caught the look on Matt’s face because he quickly lowered them and stuffed them into his front jeans pockets. Matt settled her in the crook of his arm so his buddies could get a good look He feathered his lips over her cheek. Her tiny mouth opened just a little. Her eyes stayed closed and the guys breathed a sigh of relief.

  Matt laughed. “She’s not a damn grenade, Loog.”

  At the deep sound of her father’s voice, Mary’s brown eyes blinked open, and she stared up at the faces surrounding her.

  Matt could feel the men he’d once commanded holding their breath. Then…

  “Oh, my God,” Bob breathed out in wonder and awe. “She smiled.”

  “Of course she did. She knows her daddy, don’t you princess?” He lifted her to kiss her cheek again, pressed his nose to her neck and inhaled that sweet baby smell. And another smell. “I should probably change her.”

  “Oh, no. No.” Bob shook his head slowly as Matt walked to the changing table.

  The men turned to follow Matt, but still kept a safe distance. “You sure you know what you’re doing, McKinney?”

  “I’m the father of five,” Matt said, gathering the necessary gear.

  “Yeah, but she’s a…a…” Decker motioned at Mary with his hands.

  “A baby?” Loogie said. “No shit, Sherl
ock.”

  “You can’t say shit in front of a baby, fuckwad.”

  Matt laughed and changed her while the men looked on. It’d taken a few tries, but he was damn good at it. “No harder than wiring up C-4. If you know what you’re doing.” Matt smirked at Loogie, reminding him of a small C-4 mishap back in training.

  “That only happened once.”

  Bob laughed. “Only takes once to blow your nuts off.”

  Mary kicked her feet happily as Matt finished and smoothed her dress down. She kept pumping those legs, one of her new things. He turned, and with Mary went to dispose of the dirty diaper.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. You keep the poop in here?” Loogie lifted his head and sniffed.

  Matt dropped the diaper, did the twist with the top and closed the lid. “It’s a Diaper Genie. Seals in the odor.”

  “You should get one of those for your bathroom,” Bob said to Loog.

  “You should,” Loog shot back then took a stroll around the small room, taking it in.

  Matt followed the man’s gaze. He loved this room. The walls he’d painted with Jack’s help. The white furniture he and Abby had picked out together. A lamp on a low table that cast a soft glow in the evenings. He’d spent more than one evening watching Abby nurse Mary in that soft light.

  “Where’s the rocking chair?” Loogie asked.

  Bob stared at him.

  “What? I’m not an idiot. Baby rooms are supposed to have rockers.”

  “It’s there," Matt said angling his head to the pale blue glider in the corner. “That’s the new thing now. It’s a glider.”

  Loogie pushed the back of it, studying the movement.

  “It’s comfortable,” Matt said. “You’d be surprised.”

  “A glider, huh?” He pushed it again.

  “Interested in getting one? Something you want to tell us, Loog?” Bob teased.

  “No. Shit. Just planning ahead, you know.” He looked away embarrassed. “Always thought I’d have a couple.”

 

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