Stenton: And you’re NOT disrupting my blue balls.
Me: Ugh! What time should I be ready on Friday?
Stenton: Ha! At about 8.
Me: I’ll see you and the little crumb-snatcher then.
Stenton: Can’t wait til I cum. :)
Me: STENTON!
Stenton: Damn autocorrect! I meant COME! :)
~~~~~~~~~~
At dinner, we’re ironically at the same Italian restaurant we visited last spring before taking Jordan to Gameroom. I learn tonight the restaurant, DiFillipo’s, is the one Stenton has invested in with Azmir Jacobs. He said he made the deal final about a week after we left because of my response to their crème br?lée. Odd, but…sweet. I only wish he would have let me review the investment proposal before signing. I understand Mr. Jacobs is an astute businessman, but I’m not to be slept on either. This deal would also explain the low-key—ness of the place. There are still no paparazzi hanging out in the bushes. What hasn’t changed is we don’t do things alone as a family. Our outings always include bodyguards. I have to get used to this again.
We weren’t able to avoid the paps after the Yo Gabba Gabba! Live! show we saw earlier. There were cameras snapping everywhere. And Stenton welcomed it all as he posed and smiled with Jordan and me patiently while they got all their shots. The attention doesn’t bother me so long as Stenton and I are finally together. It actually feels good to see he’s zealous about showing us off as a family. I’m itching to check all the blogs for those shots. Or better yet, going to Getty Images for the first sightings of them, but I don’t. I’m with my guys, enjoying crème br?lée.
I still haven’t touched Stenton. It’s driving me crazy that’s he’s so near and I haven’t grazed his skin, pressed into his hard arms or thighs even through his clothes, sampled him—his taste or touch—or acted out any of my thousands of fantasies I’ve developed with him, unhealthily, in mind. My palms have literally itched for his touch. My tongue actually twitches from the sight of his heart-shaped lips. My thighs contract when I gaze directly into his marbled eyes. I still can’t believe we’re together. Still hard to conceive he’s finally mine.
“JR, son, your moms and I have something to share with you,” Stenton announces, bringing me back to the table.
Jordan’s eyes go back and forth between Stenton and me. When Stenton refers to him as “son,” it captures even my attention.
“What, Daddy?”
Stenton throws me a glance before speaking, perhaps asking if I want to take the lead. “Well, your mom and I have decided to be boyfriend and girlfriend.”
Jordan busts out with the heartiest laughter. It’s so huge, Stenton and I can’t fight our amusement. I don’t know why my child finds this particularly funny, but then again, this all feels weird. He’s six years old, and the idea of his parents being close is quite…amusing, apparently.
“Seriously, Jordan, we are,” Stenton reaffirms.
“Hold up. What does that mean?” He looks at me. “Is that like what you did with Bernard?”
“No!” Stenton abruptly imposes. “It’s…not exactly like what your mom did with Bernard. This is something more serious and far more special.”
Stenton’s eyes pierce me. Well…dang! I swallow hard.
“Ohhhhh! Okay…cool!” Jordan approves.
I don’t think he knows what he’s approving specifically, but gets the idea of some unity among his parents.
“Pumpkin, this means, Mommy and Daddy will be spending more time together, being better partners, and not just for you, but for us.” I motion my index finger between Stenton and me.
“Okay. So, we’re going to go to shows and out to eat like this all the time now?” Jordan asks with such a gleam in his eyes.
“No.” Stenton’s answer is just as adamant as earlier. “This won’t always include you, but it will mean more family time for all of us.”
“Okay,” Jordan smiles over his ice cream.