Big Man's Bride (Big Men Small Towns 1)

Just before we left the Hamptons, after the last dinner we had with them, when Caleb was bringing the car around, I pulled his mother aside. “I wanted to thank you for hosting us,” I said quietly. “And we wanted to tell you something before we left.”

She raised one arched eyebrow. “Yes?”

I smiled. “I’m pregnant. Due in March.”

The shock registered on her face for a moment before she managed to cover it. And though Caleb’s mother never showed her true emotions, just for a moment I thought I saw something there. A true hint of a smile, and something deeper in her eyes. “That’s lovely.”

“Thank you,” I said. “And we’d like you to be a part of your grandchild’s life. If that’s something that you want. I don’t think that Caleb will ever be truly comfortable with Mr. Staunton being present, but we would always welcome you if you wanted to visit us in Tennessee.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it. “I’ll think about it,” she said with another shallow smile.

“That’s all I can ask.”

I cried that night in Caleb’s arms, overcome with sadness for his mother, and the fact that our child might never know her because of his father. He held me and kissed me until there were no tears. “I swear to you, Ally. That will never be us. It will never be me. Our child is going to know love and support and devotion their entire life, no matter what happens.”

And I believed him. I still do. I always will.

“I can’t have my wife weeping on the front porch for all the neighbors to see.” Caleb is standing in the front door, looking over at me with a bemused look on his face. I scrub my face with my hands, laughing and crying at the same time.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” I tell him, smiling through the tears.

He reaches his hand down to me and lifts me up, so I’m standing face to face with him. “Come upstairs. It’s been a long day and you should have a rest before dinner.” The finger that trails down my cheek and then over my collarbone tells me he has more on his mind than just a nap.

“Pops,” Caleb calls across the yard. “We’re going to wash up upstairs and unpack. How about we grill some burgers tonight?”

“Sounds good,” Grandpa says, barely taking a pause from examining his rose bushes. “See you on the back deck at six?”

“See you, Pops,” Caleb calls back, already leading me inside.

We walk up the steps to the second floor, and I’m overwhelmed again by memories and hopes. How is this my home? I’d dreamed about being here, in the house, on these stairs, for so many years. Never had my dreams included a husband and a baby who will take his first steps on the same ground I took my own. I feel my mother’s love all around me, and for the first time since she died, the memories of her are more sweet than bitter.

I’m surprised when Caleb doesn’t join me in bed. “I’ll be right back,” he says, and in the few minutes he’s gone from the bedroom, I start to drift to sleep. I feel his weight shift the bed beside me, but I’m falling into blissful sleep and don’t pay him any attention. That is until I feel the lightest vibration on my nipple.

My eyes open and Caleb has a small bullet vibrator in his hand. He’s making small circles around my sensitive nipple, and the sly smile on his face confirms there will be no nap. Not now.

“Caleb,” I start to say, but he puts a finger on my lips to quiet me.

“No talking, Ally. No thinking. You’re just going to feel.”

Who am I to argue?

Caleb unbuttons my blouse and then rubs the humming toy over my bra. My nipples come to points, and I feel the sensation travel down my body until my pussy feels wet and throbbing. His lips nibble around my ear, and I feel his hot breath against my cheek. An orgasm starts to build just below the surface, and it lingers, steady and subtle, the more he plays with my nipples. It feels so good I’m practically in a trance, and I barely realize he’s unbuttoning my shorts and sliding his hand into my panties.

His fingers slide over my wet pussy, and my hips lurch off the bed. I feel so empty all of a sudden, and I angle my hips urging him to slip his finger inside me. But his hand disappears from where I need it the most, and I hear his belt buckle opening and the zip of his fly. Suddenly he’s grabbing my hand and putting it directly on his cock. Already so hard. He pumps himself into my pliant hand, and then wraps his hand around mine, squeezing it tighter, and rasps into my ear, “Stroke it, baby. Please.”