“…so unless you want a wife, stay on the path,” he sometimes finishes the story, and it always gets a chorus of ‘ewww’s that makes us both dissolve into laughter. I keep telling him he’ll need to update the moral of that story when they get a little older. They’re growing up so fast.
Beside them trots our puppy, little Jimmy Jr. He’s a sweet, young black lab rescue that reminded Holt so much of his old dog that he just piled him into his truck and brought him home. Not that any of us exactly minded a surprise puppy. The boys treat him almost like a fourth brother, grabbing sticks as we walk and tossing them for him to find and retrieve.
“You ever feel outnumbered?” Holt asks, nodding to the four of them yelling and screaming behind us, and laughs.
“By boys?”
He nods.
I shake my head. “No, not really.”
“Boys rule!” Matt cries, overhearing us, and Holt gives him a faux stern look.
“Girls rule too,” I point out, and turn around to face my sons. They all stop in unison, and it’s almost comedic. Especially when the dog stops dead too, tongue lolling, wondering if we’re playing some game.
“Now?” Holt murmurs, coming to my side and wrapping his arm around my waist.
“I wanted to ask you boys if you would ever want a sister,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant.
They all exchange a look. “A sister?” they mumble, and then look back at me. “Why?”
I bite my lip, unable to keep it in for another minute. “Because I’m pregnant. And we just found out it’s with twin girls.”
Three mouths fall open at the same time again, and Holt kisses the side of my head, proud as hell to hear me say it out loud to our kids.
“We were waiting for a good moment to tell you,” he says. “Are you excited?”
They’re nodding, all asking questions, crowding me, yelling over each other, and I tousle their hair, laughing at their enthusiasm. “One at a time. One at a time!”
When the kids are finally in bed, Holt rolls up his sleeves and shuts their bedroom door behind him. Immediately, I hear whispers and I roll my eyes, ready to go in and tell them to quit it, but Holt holds out his hand.
“Let them talk. They’re excited about their little sisters. Plus, I want them to stay distracted. I have plans for you.”
His serious eyebrow quirk makes me giggle and I let him lead me by the hand up the stairs, and then up one more flight. To the roof.
Our cabin has a little hideaway, just like his old place, which I only visited once, but still haven’t quite forgotten. It was where I fell in love with him, after all. The cool night breeze passes over my skin and instinctively, I snuggle closer to his side. He wraps me up in his arms, stroking my belly.
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you’re like when you’re pregnant,” he murmurs in my ear, and I gasp and wheel around.
“What do you mean?” I tease. “Like this?” I let the spaghetti strap fall off my shoulder.
“Something like that.” He pushes my long, red hair away from my neck and kisses me, pulling me in close so I can smell his masculine scent. “Let’s get under the blanket.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. We wrap ourselves in a wool blanket and snuggle up close together, and I lean my head on his shoulder, feeling absolutely at peace and completely in love.
“Show me the constellations,” I say. He shakes his head. He always teases me about never being able to see them without his help, but I can, really. I just like hearing him whisper to me about the stars while his hands run up and down my body. I’m a simple girl at heart.
“You see those?”
I nod against his shoulder as he points out a couple of stars, drawing in the air to piece them together into a picture just for me. “That’s the… Hattie.”
I snort and bump him with my elbow. “That’s the Big Dipper.”
He turns to me. “You’re right! You got one. I believed in you.” I smile and trail my fingers up his inner thigh, and then brush my knuckles against his shaft. I reach inside his pants and squeeze the base of his thick cock, feeling my own body thrill at the sensation. It doesn’t matter how many times we’ve been together. It always feels just as exciting as the very first time.
“You have a pretty Big Dipper yourself,” I tell him.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Uh huh.”
He rolls on top of me and traces his tongue against my lower lip before slipping it into my mouth. At the same time, his practiced hands have undone my pants and I’m wriggling out of my panties, kicking them off to the side. Having three young kids means we’ve learned how to undress at the speed of light.