Devlin: [GIF of Homer Simpson retreating into a bush]
It’s strange to think of the anguish I once faced thinking my two best friends would someday leave me behind. Instead, we’ve grown closer than ever. Blood related or not, we’re all family.
I don’t have to wish for one anymore. The one I needed was there all along.
I spin the platinum wedding band on my ring finger, picturing the stars Blair had engraved on the inside when we got married last year.
As if I’ve conjured her, she texts me. The corner
of my mouth lifts.
Blair: How do you feel about beef stew for dinner? I have the biggest hankering. Or maybe something with a little kick to it.
Devlin: What my wife wants, my wife gets.
Blair: [GIF of a beautiful woman in a crown]
Blair: Going hard for this year’s best husband award?
A smirk crosses my face and heat tugs at my groin as I type my response.
Devlin: Not until I have you screaming my name tonight. You get beef for dinner and I get you to feast on.
It doesn’t matter that we’ve been together for five years, I still can’t control the need I have for her.
Blair: [smirk emoji] Going for gold, then?
Devlin: Always when it comes to you, angel.
Blair: Better hurry home, then.
She sends a surreptitious selfie of her plump red lips wrapped around her finger, sucking it to the knuckle.
“Fuck,” I mutter hoarsely, adjusting my cock in my slacks.
I love my fiery little demon. Grabbing my key fob and coat, I let Blair know I’ll be home soon after I stop to pick up stuff for dinner.
When I get in, Blair’s not back from the gallery yet. I hang my coat in the cozy living room, filled with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves for our book collection. On the shelf closest to our wedding photos, the hardcover edition of Stardust from my proposal is displayed front and center.
Once I have the groceries put away in the kitchen, I hear the front door open. Blair murmurs in a calming tone. My brow furrows as I sneak closer to see what she’s doing.
Blair has her scarf bundled in one arm, bustling around the room to build a fort of sorts out of the pillows on the plush sofa. Once she’s satisfied, she nestles her bundled scarf.
Intrigued, I move closer. Propping my shoulder against the doorway, I survey the attentive way she tucks in the edges of the scarf.
It’s nurturing in a way, how she tends to the bundle. We’ve both talked about how we want a big family. My gaze sweeps over her frame. I’m ready to start one now, eager to see her belly swelled with our baby.
We’ve only come close once so far. Shortly after we were married, we took an at home test when we thought we might be pregnant, but it turned out to be a false positive. I haven’t wanted to push her, not until she’s ready to try again, too.
“What are you doing?”
Blair emits a startled sound and pops up. She spots me and huffs. “Jesus, give a girl a heart attack much?”
Humor injects my voice as I cross the room. “You shouldn’t have taught me the trick to being stealthy then. If I can’t use it to sneak up on you, what good does it do me?”
The lesson plays in my head, followed by the ways I’ve employed the new skill over the years. Usually it ends with both of us naked and sated. Blair tips her chin up with a wry smirk.
My hand rests on her ass when I reach her. Giving it a squeeze, I peer into the scarf mound. A ball of black fur greets me.