found out we were expecting. Eight and a half months later, Silas was born.
Our boy’s staying with Julia and Dad, while Olivia and I enjoy a few kid-free nights. I booked a stay at the Cape Astoria Lighthouse to celebrate our three-year anniversary. It’s something we do every anniversary and this one’s even more special to me.
I have my camera in one hand. This is the fourth camera I’ve bought since our first pregnancy. I guess I’m kind of hard on cameras but it’s probably because I take my camera every chance I get so I can capture moments like this. Lifting it, I call out to her. I have to shout to be heard over the crash of the waves.
She turns. Her long, beautiful hair swirls around her face and she smiles as I snap the picture. I look at the screen and think how this image is the moment in time before she discovers that another miracle is about to happen in our lives.
Pouting, she retraces her steps. “I’m starving.”
“It’s about dinner time. I should feed you.”
Cooking for Olivia is my favorite thing. Well almost. I love everything. Spending time with her. Teasing her. Loving her.
Ever since the day in the cabin when Trey came after her, we haven’t been apart. He was hauled off and in no time put away for a laundry list of crimes. Not just for assaulting my wife, but drugs and trafficking too. He’ll get released about twenty years after he’s dead. I’ll never forget seeing her trying to fight him off. I still wish I could get my hands on him. I’d tear him apart.
She pulls me from the savage thoughts when she slips her arms around me.
“The groundskeeper claims the lighthouse is haunted,” she says.
I wrap my arms around her. “And there’s a storm expected tonight.”
“Good thing we’re staying in tonight.”
I take her hand and we walk back to the lighthouse. By the time we make the twenty minute walk, dark clouds loom across the horizon and a distant rumble confirms the coming storm. The first, fat raindrops pelt us as we run down the stone pathway. The wind yanks the door from my grip. I lift Olivia into my arms, carry inside. I’m careful to duck down, because the door isn’t built for guys my height. I kick the door shut behind me and the slam echoes against the white-washed walls.
“I’m carrying you upstairs, Olivia.”
“It’s three stories to the bedroom,” she fusses. “I’m too heavy.”
“You’re perfect. If I were going for a run, this would almost be a good warm-up. Maybe if I carry you up a few times.”
“Bragger.”
“Lightweight.”
The house I bought Olivia is a Victorian with a wrap-around porch, gingerbread trim and a wide staircase. I love to catch her off guard, after Silas is asleep and haul her off to bed. Sometimes I’m romantic and carry her in my arms, but if she’s sassed me at some point in the day, I don’t give her romantic. I give her rampaging Viking.
This staircase spirals up, narrowing as we ascend. It would have been a little easier to toss her over my shoulder, but I need to be gentle with my baby-mama.
When we get to the top floor, the soft light of dusk has been blotted out by the storm. Weather changes fast around here, but that’s okay. Silas is having fun with grandma and grandpa. He’s safe and sound and I have my woman all to myself.
Inside the bedroom, I set her on her feet and pull off my coat.
She gives me a coy look, pretending not to know what I want. “I’m hungry.”
It takes me less than a minute to have her jacket off and her sweater too. She’s wearing a lacy bra that cups her full breasts perfectly. I kiss the swell of her breast and flick the snap open.
“Luke.” She threads her fingers through my hair, holding me as I tease her nipples with my tongue.
Usually I linger, but she’s already making small plaintive sounds and undoing my shirt. I strip her down, shed my clothes and lay her back on the four-poster bed. I feel like some sort of feral animal. A
Our boy’s staying with Julia and Dad, while Olivia and I enjoy a few kid-free nights. I booked a stay at the Cape Astoria Lighthouse to celebrate our three-year anniversary. It’s something we do every anniversary and this one’s even more special to me.
I have my camera in one hand. This is the fourth camera I’ve bought since our first pregnancy. I guess I’m kind of hard on cameras but it’s probably because I take my camera every chance I get so I can capture moments like this. Lifting it, I call out to her. I have to shout to be heard over the crash of the waves.
She turns. Her long, beautiful hair swirls around her face and she smiles as I snap the picture. I look at the screen and think how this image is the moment in time before she discovers that another miracle is about to happen in our lives.
Pouting, she retraces her steps. “I’m starving.”
“It’s about dinner time. I should feed you.”
Cooking for Olivia is my favorite thing. Well almost. I love everything. Spending time with her. Teasing her. Loving her.
Ever since the day in the cabin when Trey came after her, we haven’t been apart. He was hauled off and in no time put away for a laundry list of crimes. Not just for assaulting my wife, but drugs and trafficking too. He’ll get released about twenty years after he’s dead. I’ll never forget seeing her trying to fight him off. I still wish I could get my hands on him. I’d tear him apart.
She pulls me from the savage thoughts when she slips her arms around me.
“The groundskeeper claims the lighthouse is haunted,” she says.
I wrap my arms around her. “And there’s a storm expected tonight.”
“Good thing we’re staying in tonight.”
I take her hand and we walk back to the lighthouse. By the time we make the twenty minute walk, dark clouds loom across the horizon and a distant rumble confirms the coming storm. The first, fat raindrops pelt us as we run down the stone pathway. The wind yanks the door from my grip. I lift Olivia into my arms, carry inside. I’m careful to duck down, because the door isn’t built for guys my height. I kick the door shut behind me and the slam echoes against the white-washed walls.
“I’m carrying you upstairs, Olivia.”
“It’s three stories to the bedroom,” she fusses. “I’m too heavy.”
“You’re perfect. If I were going for a run, this would almost be a good warm-up. Maybe if I carry you up a few times.”
“Bragger.”
“Lightweight.”
The house I bought Olivia is a Victorian with a wrap-around porch, gingerbread trim and a wide staircase. I love to catch her off guard, after Silas is asleep and haul her off to bed. Sometimes I’m romantic and carry her in my arms, but if she’s sassed me at some point in the day, I don’t give her romantic. I give her rampaging Viking.
This staircase spirals up, narrowing as we ascend. It would have been a little easier to toss her over my shoulder, but I need to be gentle with my baby-mama.
When we get to the top floor, the soft light of dusk has been blotted out by the storm. Weather changes fast around here, but that’s okay. Silas is having fun with grandma and grandpa. He’s safe and sound and I have my woman all to myself.
Inside the bedroom, I set her on her feet and pull off my coat.
She gives me a coy look, pretending not to know what I want. “I’m hungry.”
It takes me less than a minute to have her jacket off and her sweater too. She’s wearing a lacy bra that cups her full breasts perfectly. I kiss the swell of her breast and flick the snap open.
“Luke.” She threads her fingers through my hair, holding me as I tease her nipples with my tongue.
Usually I linger, but she’s already making small plaintive sounds and undoing my shirt. I strip her down, shed my clothes and lay her back on the four-poster bed. I feel like some sort of feral animal. A
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