We each groan at the angle. I can’t believe it’s fucking possible to feel closer, to feel this good. One hand grips her thigh, hooking it back around my hip, the other grasping the back of her neck so I can kiss her.
This position is intimate. It’s raw. It’s the first time in my life I’ve felt connected to another person, body and soul.
When Emery’s orgasm rocks her only seconds later, she takes me with her, tumbling somewhere we’ve never been. An unknown that I don’t think I’ll ever recover from.
Not when I know what it’s like to have her this way.
There’s no going back.
The next morning, I sleep in way past the sunrise after three rounds of the most intense sex of my life, and when I wake, Emery’s gone. Her side of the bed is cold, meaning she’s been gone for a while.
Hell, is she running scared after last night? I can’t be the only one that felt it.
I slide out of bed and quickly throw on some clothes, following the scent of bacon into the kitchen. Before I even round the corner, I hear them. Ma whispering, and Emery laughing. When I walk in, they’re standing at the kitchen island, both of them covered in flour. The smile on Emery’s face causes my heart to fucking stop in my chest.
God, what a fucking sight.
Emery’s wearing my grandma’s apron, stained and worn, tied around her neck and protruding belly. Her hair is tied out of her face, but she’s somehow gotten flour in it.
Ma grins, her blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “Morning sleepyhead.”
“Good morning,” I say gruffly, emotion suddenly clogging my throat.
“Good morning, handsome.” Emery smirks, stirring a bowl of… something.
Clearing my throat, I ask, “What are you two making this early?”
Emery looks at Ma, then back at me, smiling widely. “We’re making your Grandma Adams’ famous pancakes. And yes, with the strawberries.”
My stomach growls on cue. My grandma’s pancakes are my favorite food in the world, and now Em’s making them?
“She’s learning, so she can make them for the babies and you when you get back home,” Ma adds, rubbing Emery’s arm lovingly. “You know, your grandma’s secret was a drop of almond extract. She always said it gives them something she knew they were missing.”
Emery looks completely at ease as she moves around Ma’s kitchen, following her instructions on how to make gram’s world-famous pancakes.
I take a seat at the kitchen table and just watch.
Watch them flit around the kitchen, laughing and talking about baby stuff.
“Have you and Graham decided on a color for the babies’ room or are you waiting until you find out the gender?” Ma asks.
Emery looks over at me, her eyes slightly wide before she fumbles with the spoon she’s holding. “Uh, we’re still discussing all of those things. There’s just so much to decide on. We don’t want to make any quick decisions.”
Ma nods. “I completely understand. There are a lot of big decisions that go into parenting. I wish there was a manual I could give you both to make life easier, but that’s all a part of being parents. Learning as you go. You’ll never be perfect at it, but what matters is that you learn from the mistakes you make and move forward. Being a mama can be hard, just as much as it is rewarding.”
“When I first found out… about the pregnancy, I was scared. I never really expected to start a family, and suddenly, it was like I was either going to sink or swim. I realized in those weeks that maybe the unexpected was exactly what I needed to push me out of this comfort zone I had put myself in unintentionally. Throwing myself into my career, but putting a wall up to everything else,” Emery says, looking over at me. “I’d like to think it was the babies guiding me to exactly where I was meant to be.”
With me.
Exactly where she was meant to be.
Her unspoken words settle between us, and now more than ever, I have no doubt that we’re exactly where we should be.
Each day, closer and closer to making her mine.
For real, and not for fake.