I was being irrational, but I couldn’t help it.
“And,” I snapped. “I can’t have your baby right now. I can’t even take a shower by myself!”
I held up my casted arm, waving it in his face.
His face that was currently being overtaken by shock.
His face was pale, and his beard was quivering as he tried to figure out how to speak.
“Say something,” I snapped at him.
He ran a hand down his face, stopping to tug lightly on his beard, before he cleared his throat.
“I…good?”
“Good?”
“Yeah, good.”
I blinked.
“That’s it?”
He licked his lips.
“What’s it?” He fell backwards onto his ass, and let his large back rest against the bathroom cabinets.
“That’s all the reaction I’m going to get?” I asked him. “I told you I’m carrying the heir to your throne!”
“The heir to my throne?”
“Yes!” I snapped.
He held his hands up in defense.
“I’m fucking happy!” he said. “Though, I gotta admit, I’m scared as fuck. We could really fuck some kids up.”
That was true. We could.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “We could.”
We sat in silence for a few long moments.
Then Truth opened his arms, and I dove into them.
“We won’t fuck them up,” he promised.
“Okay,” I said.
I hoped that my voice was more confident than what I was really feeling.
He squeezed me tight.
“I love you.”
I buried my face into his neck, and I felt him harden underneath me.
“Is there ever a time when you don’t think about sex?” I asked him, a laugh bubbling up my throat.
“Just a minute ago, when that puke and a piece of egg was on your lip, I wasn’t thinking about sex.”
I smacked him before I got up and brushed my teeth. Then I showed him just how excited I was to be carrying his child.
***
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.
He was looking at me, gauging whether I really was okay despite my assurances that I was, and I wanted to strangle him.
I didn’t answer him.
He would’ve stayed, but the mailman rang the doorbell, causing him to sigh and get up.
I tried on the very last thing I had yet to try on, and sighed.
This would have to be good enough, at least until I could admit defeat and go to a fucking maternity store that sold clothes for big girls.
“What is this?” Truth asked from the doorway, startling me.
I looked up, saw the long box, and smiled.
“Open it.”
He did and paused at the sight of the bike seat.
“I just thought, you know, since you like the other bike better, that you’ll start riding it again if you have a different bike seat,” I said softly.
Truth’s eyes were shining with happiness.
“Yeah,” he said. “And how did you know what kind to get?”
Dare I tell him that I’d just sent his old one to get reupholstered?
When I’d had the conversation over the phone about the bike seat after I’d gotten home from the hospital, the man that’d done the work had spoken to me like I was a complete lunatic.
The leather work that Truth had done himself was phenomenal, and the upholsters hadn’t wanted to cover over it. Even after I’d offered him a shitload of money.
What had finally convinced him to do it, though, was the explanation of Destiny and Kenneth, and how they’d done some nasty things on the bike seat, and that my man refused to ride it anymore.
“I asked a few of the boys where they recommended I take it. It was actually Silas, that sexy, older man who gives Big Papa a run for his money…”
“Wait,” Truth held up his hand. “You think another man besides me is sexy?”
He tried to reach for me, but I stepped out of his grasp and turned to survey my fourth outfit in the floor to ceiling mirror.
“Yes,” I confirmed. “Both men are sexy as hell. Big Papa is sexier, though. Oh man, he is beautiful.”
Though, that was only because Silas still scared the shit out of me.
Big Papa was like a sexy, older teddy bear. He was a really good friend who I could talk to about pretty much anything.
“That’s just wrong,” Truth muttered, holding the bike seat above his head and inspecting it. “This detail work is amazing.”
It was.
The upholsterer was amazing, and I was contemplating stealing Truth’s other bike seat so I could do it all over again.
“Kind of presumptuous of you, though, to get the back seat done, too.”
I grinned.
“Yeah,” I said. “But I figured why not.”
He snorted and set the seat down on the bed, right on top of my white halter top, and I rolled my eyes.
“Looks good, baby.”
I looked down at the seat where he was fingering the lettering.
His seat said ‘Mr. Truth’ while mine said, ‘Mrs. Truth.’
The rest of it was decorated with words. My words to Truth.
I wasn’t sure he was going to like them at first. I was convinced that he would be mad that I desecrated his property, but he seemed genuinely happy that I’d done it.
“The bike seat or my outfit?” I teased.
He didn’t look up from the seat.
He was still reading the words.
I love you. I love your face. I love the way your beard makes me shiver. I love the pretty words that come out of your mouth when you’re trying to make me laugh. One day, we’re going to part, and the only thing I want you to remember when I’m no longer of this Earth is that not a day went by that I didn’t thank my lucky stars for you.
It was simple. Sweet. And just so happened to also have been our wedding vows.
Something that I’d only figured out after I’d called the chapel for more photos from our wedding. Apparently, at the time, drunk me only thought that one 8x10 would be enough.
It wasn’t.
First, because my GG wanted one for her shop and for her house. Also because I wanted one in every single room of our home, something that Truth was still coming to terms with.
Then, with unrushed movements, he placed the bike seat carefully down on the bed, walked over to me, and placed both of his big hands on my face.
Gently, oh so fucking gently, he brought my face to his, and kissed me.
It was sweet.
But, just as suddenly, it wasn’t sweet anymore.
Ever since I’d almost died, everything Truth did was with every bit of effort he could muster.
His kisses were deeper. His hugs were just a little bit longer, a little bit tighter. The sex…well I couldn’t complain there. Everything was more intense, the feelings, the way he held me afterward.
So yeah, me almost getting killed twice in one day was bad, but I couldn’t say I was completely dissatisfied with the after-effects.
Unfortunately, I could tell that Truth was still haunted about it, though.
But right now, with his lips on mine, his hand snaking down to part my folds, he didn’t seem haunted at all.
In fact, he seemed focused on his goal.
His goal being my orgasm.
Something he accomplished seconds later as he dipped his fingers into the back of my pants, and thrust two fingers deep into my pussy.