Tap (Men of Lovibond 1)

“It’s just sciatica. Most pregnant women get it from time to time. No reason to stop working.”

We forewent buying Savan Cider after Wren and I got engaged. As newlyweds, we didn’t need to tackle running a company in Birmingham and another in Savannah. Been there, done that, and it didn’t work. So we started our own cider brewery, a sister company to Lovibond. Stout didn’t want Savan Cider anyway. He knew how miserable our separation was making both of us. And I think he suspected I was on the verge of changing my stance about marriage and children. He knew how much I loved his sister. And all I needed was a little push. The whole thing was a ploy to bring Wren and me back together. And I played right into his hands. Best scheme ever.

I tap Wren on the hip. “I’ll do your other side if you’ll roll.”

“Definitely if it means you’re going to keep this up.”

I move in the opposite direction this time, ending up at the back of her neck, before moving on to her calves and feet. “That was so good, Brou. Thank you.”

I finish Wren’s massage and lie down behind her, spooning. My hand goes to her swollen abdomen. “How is our little one?”

“Very active. You must have stirred him up. There are lots of flutters going on in there.” Just like earlier today when Wren had her ultrasound.

I hold my hand still and concentrate on trying to feel them. Nothing. I think it makes me a little jealous. “How long have you been feeling the baby move?”

“A couple of weeks.” That long?

“You haven’t said anything about it.”

“Because you withdraw every time I talk about the baby.” I hear the hurt in her voice.

I squeeze my eyes shut and press my forehead to Wren’s bare back, powerless to stop the tears. I’m such a selfish bastard. I made this about me and how to guard against another devastating blow. I never stopped to consider how much disconnecting was hurting my wife. “I allowed my heart to disengage from the baby and pregnancy in case we lost this one too . . . so it didn’t hurt so much. I haven’t been here for you, or our little one, and I am truly sorry for that. You can’t begin to imagine how much.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Wren. I swear I love this baby. He’s already in my heart and I can hardly wait until he’s in my arms.”

She puts her hand over mine and presses it against her lower belly. “I know. I’ve always known . . . even when you didn’t.”

“I think it’s time I see someone. A therapist.” My unresolved feelings about Eli’s death have held me back from embracing this precious life inside Wren as I should. That’s not what I want for my child.

“Oh, Brou.” She turns in my arms and wraps her body around mine. Her embrace and tears tell me everything she doesn’t say.

Lawrence Thorn Broussard. My lover. My wife. Mother of my child. Her love and unwavering faith in me has the power to conquer any darkness I face.

* * *

It’s the final countdown. Baby Broussard could hatch any time now. “You should be resting, Wren. Not up, cleaning the house.”

“I can’t help it. I feel good for the first time in days. I don’t want to wallow on that couch another minute.”

If she won’t listen to me, maybe she’ll listen to another woman. “Tell her, Mom. It isn’t good for her to be running around the house like a mad woman.” Wren says I’m overprotective and worry too much. I disagree. It isn’t possible to be too concerned for the health and well-being of my wife and child.

“Leave her alone, Luc. She’s nesting.”

I’ve heard of that but I don’t have a clue what it means. “What is that?”

“Her motherly instinct to clean and get the house in order before the baby comes.”

“For real? You think it means the baby is coming because she’s dusting like a maniac?”

“Could be.” A woman’s pregnant body does weird things.

Wren nests all evening. My mom says it’s normal behavior so I let her have at it. I’m hoping Mom is right and this is a sign the baby is coming soon. I’m ready to meet my son or daughter.

Her burst of energy isn’t even close to being at an end at bedtime. “These pregnancy hormones do crazy things to me. Wanting you hits me in waves. Right now, I'm drowning because I want you so bad.”

Whoa. She hasn’t been like this in a while. Lucky me.

Wren gets on all fours and then moves over to straddle me. “I’m big and slow these days.”

“No, baby. You’re perfect.” I put my hands on her round belly and rub each side before gliding my hands to her hips. “No panties. You came to bed ready.” And with motive. Love that.

“You have no idea just how ready I am.” A streak of white leaves her body and lands on the foot of the bed.

Damn. She stripped that off fast. “I’d say you’re the opposite of slow.”

Wren yanks my shirt over my head. “Get those pants off. Now.”

“Yesss, ma’am.” She lifts, and I do too, so I can obey her orders quickly. “Damn, I am loving this nesting thing.”

I push my fingers into the hair at her nape and pull her face to mine. She sinks over me and I’m inside her body. She moves up and down several times, sliding me in and out, but it isn’t like normal. “This isn’t working. I can’t get going. I’m too big and unbalanced.”

“You’re not too big.”

“Well, I’m too . . . something.”

“Tell me how you want it.” I will stand on my head and give it to her if that’s what she wants.

“Side lying, from the back.”

“Not a problem.” I love rear entry.

I ease inside her and it’s so good it’s impossible to suppress my groan. I pull back and thrust slowly, savoring the squeeze of her body around mine. “Fuck!” I can’t believe how tight she feels. “It’s sending tingles all over me.”

I thrust a few more times. “Is this position good for you, babe?”

She’s tilting her hips backward, rocking, to meet me with every stroke. “Mmm hmm.”

I reach around her pregnant belly to that sensitive place between her legs. “Tell me when I find the spot.”

She moans, and without a word, I know I’ve hit it. “Oh, right there.”

I circle the whole area fast and hard. Slow and soft. Back and forth. Side to side. It’s anybody’s guess what will come next. “Almost there.”

I move faster. My cock and fingers. “Do it. I want to feel your body quiver and contract around me because you’re coming hard.”

“Ohh . . . I’m coming, Brou.” Yes, she is. And so am I.

I bury my face in the back of her hair. “I love you, Wren.”

She reaches over her shoulder and grabs the back of my head. “I love you, too.”

Our arms, our legs, o

ur entwined bodies collapse like rag dolls. “That was fucking awesome.”

“Our baby’s first word is going to be fucking if you don’t find an alternative soon.”

“I think we have a little time until he says his first word.”

“You always say he and him. Do you want a boy?” She says it too.

“I guess it’s my default because of Eli. But I don’t care what we get as long as he or she is healthy.” That’s it. The only thing I care about.

I pull out and reach for a pillow to place under her head. “Need one between your knees too?”

“Yes, please.”

I spoon behind Wren, wrapping my arm around her waist and rubbing her tummy. The movement beneath my hand is like a restless sea. “Feels like he’s awake.”

“Yeah. That stirred him up.”

“He’ll be stirring in our arms before too much longer. And keeping us up half the night. Mom thinks it’ll be soon.”

“I would be completely okay with that.” She places a hand on her belly next to mine. “I’m ready to get my hands on our little snuggle bug. This has been a long wait.”

It has indeed. But even miracles take a little time. I see that now.

* * *

Granola earth birth. Hippie style. All natural. Nothing for pain. That’s how Wren wants to labor and give birth to our child. I admire her for that. But damn. I can hardly stand seeing her in this much pain.

“I didn’t know it was gonna hurt like this.” Her breathing is no longer slow and deep. She’s panting. “Uhh . . . it’s . . . baadd.”

She’s writhing all over the bed. “Get the epidural, baby.”

“No, no, no. I’ve come this far without it.”

Wren was dilated seven centimeters last time she was checked. The nurse said she didn’t feel like the last three would take long. God, I hope not. This is horrible to watch.

“Hold my hand.” She squeezes it. Hard. “I don’t think I can do this. It hurts too bad.”

I move so we’re face to face. “Look at me, Wren.” Her eyes meet mine and I see agony there. “Will it be easy? No. Will it be worth it when you hold our baby in your arms? Absolutely. Remember that little face we saw on the ultrasound. The one with your nose and chin. You can do this for him.”