I’ve been standing in the middle of my bedroom for the last twenty minutes, trying to decide what I would wear tonight for girls’ night out. It’s been five months since Zac was born, and even though I’m back to my pre-pregnancy size, I still feel like everything looks too tight on me.
“Sunshine, you want to tell me why it looks like every piece of clothing you own is now all over the room?” Asher laughs from the doorway.
Turning my head sharply, I give him the meanest look I can, which quickly dies when I see him holding our son. I never thought he could get more attractive, but with him holding our sleeping son to his chest, he tops the scale of hot.
Asher Cooper is a man who could melt your panties clear off your body on a normal day. He’s six foot four with a body that isn’t too bulky but just the right amount of muscles to make him look like a god. His dark blond hair has grown even more over the last few months, and I love how it constantly falls over his forehead. The ends curl at his neck in that slightly overgrown, sexy way. Fully clothed, he would have me begging for him to take me, but when he’s walking around the house in just a pair of sweats—hanging low on his hips—and nothing else? Yeah . . . I pretty much melt into a puddle of desire.
“Swallow your tongue, babe?” he laughs.
I stick my tongue out and decide that ignoring him is a better route here. He laughs again, and I hear him leave the doorway. Turning my attention back at the few clothes I have left to try on, I huff a breath and pick up the closest pair of pants.
By the time Asher comes back to the bedroom, I have thrown two more pairs of jeans, a pair of capris, and a pair of black pants over my shoulder. I am in the middle of pulling the pair of yoga pants up my legs when I hear him walk back into the bedroom. He pauses in his tracks, and I hear his groan. Smiling to myself at the view I must be giving him, I start to pull the pants past my knees slowly. One thing about Asher—he will never complain about the extra curves I’ve developed from having Zac. I might have lost all the weight, but now my hips flare out more and my thighs are a little fuller. Then of course there are my breasts, which decided to stay two sizes bigger since I’m still breastfeeding Zac.
Right when I’m about to pull the waistband of my yoga pants over the curve of my ass, I feel Asher close the distance between us. He bats my hands away and gives my ass a caress before he swats me lightly.
“Damn, Chelcie. I swear you’re trying to kill me right now.”
“I’m just getting dressed, Ash,” I laugh.
“Uh, no. You are definitely not just getting dressed. You’re wearing those pants you had on last week and I told you if I saw you wearing these again I would show you just what they do to me.”
“You’re crazy! These things make me look huge!” I swat his hands and move to walk away.
I should have expected it, but I was more focused on getting to the closet and slipping a shirt over my sports bra. No way I was doing my daily yoga without a shirt since Asher is home today.
“Sunshine, get back here,” he growls.
“No, thank you, honey. I’m off to the basement to work out. No time to chat. No time at all!”
“I’m not joking, Chelcie.”
“Only an hour tops until Zac is ready for lunch. We can chat later.”
“You have three seconds to get that fine ass over here before I come get you,” he threatens.
Shit. I know what that means. I swear he can see right through me.
Turning around slowly, I straighten my back and take a deep breath of strength. We have had this argument almost weekly since I had Zac.
“Yes, my lovely husband? What can I do for you this fine afternoon?” I smart.
“Don’t give me that shit, babe. I see what you’re doing. You’re in here beating yourself up again. How many times do I have to tell you that you’re beautiful? Those curves you hate so much are curves you got while our boy grew in your body. I fucking love those curves.”
I sigh. “I know, Ash. You tell me that all the time, but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to see this body how you do.”
“Yeah? Well tell me just how do you see that body?” His voice has a harsh edge to it now, and if I were wise, I probably would pay more attention to it, but since I’m in the middle of body-image meltdown, I don’t even pay it an ounce of attention.
“Okay, we can play this game. When I look in the mirror now, I see every little pinch of extra skin. I see my tits that don’t sit firm and full—unless they’re about to explode with milk. I see my ass that doesn’t sit quite as high as it used to. My stomach might be flat but it damn sure isn’t firm. Let’s not even get started on my hips that seem to have expanded a few sizes and my thighs that are starting to dimple!” I end my rant on a scream, huff out a breath, and finally look up to meet his eyes.
His blue orbs are blazing bright. His full lips are parted in a shocked O. I can tell that he’s holding on to his control by just a thread.
“Where are you going right now?” he questions, throwing me off with his change of subject.