The guys you least expect
"The clouds rolled by In the blue summer sky
And I watched them disappear
Cause I'm satisfied and finally life is right
Well you make it all so clear
If you hadn't saved me I would still be on my own
And not knowing where I'm going just rambling on and on
But I'm not running anymore
No more chasing down the sun
The moment I looked in your eyes I knew you were the one
Oh your velvet chains have taken my heart for sure
And baby it's a sweet surrender
I'm not running anymore
Till you helped me I was never any free
Wrapped here in your love is right where I want to be."
-I'm Not Running Anymore, Jason McCoy
It wasn't often that Mac Taylor got off of work early. In the years that he'd be the head honcho of the New York City Crime Lab, it wasn't an uncommon event as an employee to say goodbye to Mac at the end of your shift and walk in twelve hours later and say good morning. His tired eyes and wrinkled clothes a sure sign that he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep, fresh air or a decent cup of coffee. Everyone that worked for him knew that Mac was the way he was because he was haunted by the memory of Claire and loosing her so suddenly and unexpectedly on September 11, and that work was the only thing that kept him going most days. Keeping busy kept him sane. An idol mind was a devil's play thing, he could remember his father quoting a many time when he was young. And it was a philosophy Mac subscribed to.
Unfortunately, working himself to near exhaustion for so many years had closed him off to emotional contact. He had tried to date but felt he never could give enough of himself to someone. His job came first and he hadn't been able to put anything, or anyone else, before it. Staying in a relationship for the sake of not being alone wasn't fair to the woman he was with. And he wasn't happy pretending there was something there when it was so painfully obvious there wasn't. He compared every female that he got close to to Claire. And it was unreasonable to expect any woman to compete with a ghost. And he wasn't in the business of making promises he couldn't keep. Or breaking hearts.
And then one morning, following his night out for coffee with Stella, he woke up and realized what he had been searching for had been right in front of him all along. Stella was well educated and an amazing conversationalist and a strikingly beautiful woman with a heart of gold. And she understood him. Understood the passion in which he did his job and the driving force behind his desire to make the streets of New York safer. She got it. She accepted that his responsibilities to the city and to his employees were first and foremost on his list and she never once complained that she wasn't getting her fair share of his time or attention.
For years she'd been a close friend and a valued colleague and supported his decisions and occasionally disagreed with him. She'd helped him through his grief and later his break up with Peyton. And that moment when he'd kissed her and hadn't balked when it quickly turned into something more they both so desperately wanted and needed, he knew that Stella had been the one that could make him feel complete. And happy for the first time in a long time.
Those around him began noticing a change in Mac right away. He and Stella had kept their relationship a closely guarded secret for months, but those that worked for him knew that there was something different about him. He seemed to laugh and smile a lot more. He wasn't spending long sleepless nights holed up in his office as often as he used to and he looked well rested. And happy. And a happy Mac was a much more tolerable Mac. He could still be a hard ass when need be, but he was less on edge and less 'Marine' as Danny and Flack were known to call it. And when the word finally got out to the team that Mac and Stella were involved, no one was shocked. In fact, a couple of them had began to suspect something was up when Mac and Stella were spotted looking a little more cozy than usual outside of Sullivan's one night. The relationship was accepted by everyone.
"About fucking time." Flack had said when Mac had spilled the secret to him at a crime scene. "How come we all knew you guys were meant to be together before the two of you did?"
So it came as no surprise that afternoon when Mac announced to the team members still stuck running evidence that he was leaving early. Things were under control. Danny had the most years in and was more than capable of being in charge and knew to call if things got out of hand or he had even the simplest of questions. Danny had shown remarkable improvement in his work and social skills in the months following little Ruben Sandoval's death. And in the absence of Lindsay. Mac had never met Erica, but he'd heard a lot about her from Danny and Stella, and he knew that anyone who could help Danny Messer heal was a God send. And he hoped Danny was smart enough to hold onto her.
Mac walked through the front door of the apartment in lower Manhattan he and Stella shared at a quarter to six in the evening. Soft music was playing on the stereo in the living room. The delicious aroma of chicken parmesan drifted on the air. The first thing Mac had learned about Stella when they moved in together was that she was a fantastic cook. And that there'd been a time she'd considered becoming a professional chef before deciding to head to university for forensics instead. Her love for food and preparing it had been nurtured by her foster mother who liked nothing better than cooking and baking for the kids in her care. As a girl Stella had spent hours standing on a chair in the kitchen, helping peel and mix anything that was passed her way, asking question after question, her brain soaking all the sights and smells and lessons up.
Mac had never had food that good. Claire hadn't been much of a cook. And Peyton could have burned cereal if given the chance. He looked forward to the days that Stella was hit with inspiration and she had time to put the inspiration to good use.
The small kitchen table was decorated with the china that Stella had purchased not long ago for what she deemed special occasions. She'd developed an interesting in planning dinner parties, but had yet had the time to actually invite anyone they knew over for one. Mac noticed there was a bottle of wine chilling in an ice bucket on the counter and candles waiting to be lit in the middle of the table. The food was keeping warm in the oven.
But there was no Stella.
He dropped his keys and his cell phone on top of the microwave and unclipped his badge and holster and sat both on the top of the fridge. Slipping out of his suit jacket, he draped it over the back of one of the chairs and lifted a dish towel that was covering a small wicker basket on the table. Fresh foccacia bread. Most likely from Weinstein's. The bakery and its various treats were Mac and Stella's guilty pleasure on those lazy Sundays when there was nothing to do. There weren't enough days like that, but when they came, they took advantage of them.
Stella breezed into the kitchen just as he was pulling a bottle of water from the fridge. He turned to ask her what the special occasion was, but the words became lost somewhere in his head. There she stood in the doorway, in a simple little black dress that hugged every tempting, sensual curve of her body. Her hair piled loosely onto the top of her head and a couple of loose tendrils dangling along her face. Light makeup gracing her lovely face. Strappy, sexy black heels completing her look.
"Cat got your tongue, Mac?" she asked with a light, almost self conscious laugh, her voice breaking through the daze he'd gotten himself into.
"You look beautiful." he told her, as she pressed a soft kiss on his lips. "What's the special occasion?"
"No special occasion." Stella said. "I just wanted to do something nice. For you. For us."
"Your favorite china, candles, wine, your amazing cooking? Not to mention you in that dress…..did I forget something? Birthday, anniversary….."
"Nothing." she assured him with a smile. "You didn't forget a thing. I just thought it would be a nice treat to do something like this." she turned to the stove and opened the oven. "Are you hungry? I made your favourite."
Mac swallowed hard at the sight of her ass as she bent over to check on the dinner. It was amazing how the simplest things when it came to Stella could drive him absolutely crazy.
"Starving." he replied, then thought, But not necessarily for food.
"I'll take care of this." she said, grabbing the pot holders on the counter. "It's ready to go. Could you pour some wine and light the candles?"
He nodded and retreated to the other side of the kitchen to collect the cork screw for the wine . If he stayed standing next to her for much longer, with the intoxication scent of her perfume wafting over him, he was liable to clear the table off with one sweep of his arm and have his way with her right there and then. With Stella, intimacy was never boring or predictable. And she was far from being submissive and timid in bed. In fact, she brought out the wild, inhibited side in him.
Stella prepared two plates of food and set them on the table and went to the fridge for the salad she had prepared.
"You are becoming very domesticated, Miss Bonasera." Mac teased playfully as he poured their wine, placed the bottle back in the ice bucket and sat down.
She smiled and joined him at the table, scooping salad onto his plate before sitting down herself.
"Are we toasting to anything?" Mac asked, as he lifted his glass.
"Hmmm…" Stella's long, well manicured fingers curled around the stem of her glass. "How about….to finally finding where we belong?"
Mac smiled and leaned forward to gently tap the edge of his wine glass against hers.
Throughout dinner they talked about their respective days at work and the pressure that Mac was feeling by Sinclair to close more cases despite the fact that with Sam as a lab tech and Lindsay quitting, he was seriously under staffed and overtime was excruciatingly high. Yet the brass refused to allow him to hire another CSI that the lab so desperately needed.
They discussed the news headlines from the day and made tentative plans for the weekend. And after the food had been polished off and the table cleared and the dishes put in the washer, they lounged on the couch. Mac sat with his legs stretched out, leaning back against the arm of the couch as Stella, between his legs, rested back against his chest. They sipped their third glasses of wine. His arm loosely draped around her neck, his fingertips tracing light circles on her smooth, pale skin. Outside the sun was setting, filling the apartment with a soft orange glow.
"Mac?" she asked, snapping him out of the comfortable, doze he was drifting off into.
"Hmm?"
"There's something I need to say to you. And I need to be completely open and honest with you and just get everything off of my chest."
"Okay. About…..?"
She took a deep breath. "I love you, Mac." she said.
"I love you, too, Stella."
"No. I mean, I really, really love you. I never thought it was possible to love someone this much. And when I'm with you…..I feel so whole. So whole and so at ease with myself and so very, very happy."
Mac smiled and kissed the side of her head.
"And I know you love me." Stella continued. "I don't doubt that at all. I see it in your eyes when you look at me and it's in your touch and when we make love…..but I need something more, Mac. I need to know where this is headed."
"Stella, I…."
She sat up and leaned forward to set her wine glass on the table before turning around on the couch to face him.
"I want forever, Mac. You and I. I want the wedding in a church and the 'to death do us part' and the kids and the white picket fence. I want to grow old and grey with you and…"
"Stella, will you just…"
"Husband and wife, Mac. That's what I want. And I want a baby. Two or three if possible. I'm not getting any younger. I want all of that and more. And if you can't give me all that than…."
Mac laid a finger over her lips to silence her. "Stella, I love you. More than life. You taught me how to love again after Claire. You made me realize what it was like to feel loved again. Of course I want to marry you and have children with you."
Tears sparkled in Stella's eyes. "You do?" she asked.
Mac nodded. "As a matter of fact….." he placed his wine glass on the coffee table and climbed off the couch. "Just wait here." he said and disappeared from the room.
Stella could hear him rummaging through something in the kitchen, and saw the sly smile on his lips when he finally returned and watched him, her heart pounding in her chest with anticipation, as he pushed the coffee table aside and dropped to his knees in front of her.
"Stella." he said simply and took her left hand in his right. It was then that she saw that coveted blue box in his other hand.
Her eyes widened and she laid a hand over her mouth. "Oh my God…." she breathed.
"I was going to find a nice time to do this later." Mac said. "But seeing as you brought it up first."
She fought back tears. "When? How?" she rambled.
"I ran into Flack and he asked me to run an errand with him. He's very aggressive and very insistent. He nearly dragged me from the lab by the scruff of my neck."
"He's a very, very wise man." Stella declared. "And I never thought there'd come a day when I'd say that about Don Flack."
"Well he's not the same Don Flack anymore." Mac reasoned.
"A good woman will do that to a man." Stella said.
Mac opened the small blue box and carefully removed the ring. It was a two carat marquise shaped solitaire diamond set in a thick yellow gold band. And it sparkled gloriously in the rays of the setting sun spilling into the room.
"I've loved you for so long, Stella." he said, his voice possession a gentleness reserved only for her. "And there's nothing I want more than to be your husband and have you bear my children. Grow old with you. Will you marry me?"
Tears spilled down her face and she nodded. "Of course I will." she managed.
He placed the ring on her trembling finger and kissed the top of her hand. Then he leaned forward to kiss her on the lips.
"Thank you." he said, and brushed her tears away with his fingertips.
She smiled through her tears and held her hand up to study the ring. "It's beautiful." she breathed.
"You're beautiful." Mac told her.
Her smile broadened. "How about we have dessert to cap off this moment?" she suggested.
"What kind of dessert did you have in mind?" he asked.
She grabbed him by the front of his shirt and kissed him, yanking him back down onto the couch. "I was thinking of something sweet…." she kissed his neck. "Warm…." she pressed her lips to the spot below his ear. "And very, very decadent." she licked and nibbled at his ear.
Mac grinned. "That's the best dessert of all." he declared.
Samantha woke to light, fluttering sensations in her stomach. The movements were becoming more and more frequent now and each time it happened, the butterfly like sensations brought a smile to her face. Up until that night a week ago when she'd felt movement the first time, it had been easy to forget that there was a living, breathing and growing human being inside of her. To that point, the only reminder that she was pregnant was the lingering health issues and the fact that she was gaining weight at what she considered a rapid, almost distressing rate. Everything had seemed negative and doom and gloom from the moment she'd seen that positive result on that home test. The excruciating all day sickness, the pre-eclampsia and now borderline gestational diabetes. Not to mention the possibility of there being a problem with the baby and the other health related issues. The movement served as a reminder that there were positive, happy times ahead. And someone in there that depended on her to keep them safe and sound for the rest of their life.
She'd went for a nap when they'd gotten home. After Flack had picked her up outside of Gibson's, it hadn't taken long for her to figure out, after a few strategically planned questions, that there'd been no meeting with Gerrard. In fact, when she'd asked him what happened in said meeting, a confused, deer in the headlights look had come over him and had taken him a minute to come up with a half decent sounding answer. Short of inflicting some form of torture on him or threatening to cut him off, the only information he'd give her on what he was actually up to was that one, it was legal, and two, she was going to enjoy it. And all she had to do, and could do, was trust him.
Once the sensations in her stomach passed she rolled over onto her side to check the time on the alarm clock. It was quarter to five. She'd been sleeping for a little over an hour and a half and still felt as if she could sleep for at least another twenty four. There didn't seem to be enough hours in the day to sleep anymore. She couldn't explain why she was so tired all the time when she was taking all the recommended vitamins and supplements and getting a proper amount of exercise and eating properly. And Mac kept her on a straight forty hour week. No night shifts. Strictly daytime and nothing past six in the evening. She was seriously considering, once the money from Zack came in and the house was sold (which was soon, she hoped) cutting back to part time hours.
She was wearing a dress shirt of Flack's, sleeves rolled up to her elbows and nothing underneath when she wandered into the kitchen. Stopping in her tracks in the doorway at the sight of him at the cluttered table, her lap top open in front of him. A stack of case files to his left and a pen between his lips. Typing slowly and awkwardly with just his left hand.
He sensed her watching him and looked up. A sheepish smile crossed his face.
"You are so busted." Sam said with a grin.
Flack nodded in agreement.
"What happened to your no more work promise you made on the way home?" she asked, walking over to the table and plopping down sideways on his lap. She plucked the pen from his mouth and tossed it onto the table and wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder.
"I just thought, seeing as you were sleeping, I could catch up on some paperwork." he reasoned, rubbing her back softly and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You know how paperwork isn't my strong suit. Half these files have been on my desk for a couple of months."
"You're a procrastinator." she said, yawning loudly and nestling her head into the space between his neck and shoulder.
"I just get bored easily." he corrected her. "Seriously though, I need to catch up. Gerrard is watching me like a hawk now that I'm gunning for that promotion. I do not want to be stuck at the same grade for the rest of my career. I need to show them that I'm serious about moving up the ladder."
"Detective Sergeant Flack. Is it wrong that the sound of that turns me on?"
"Nothing that turns you on could be wrong. And if it really does something for you, you can just call me that now. We won't even wait for the promotion. You can call me whatever you want."
She giggled into his neck at the feel of his fingertips drifting up her leg and underneath the bottom of the shirt and finding her thigh.
"I prefer being called God but…."
"You fucking wish." she said. "You're not that good."
"That is not what you were saying at five o'clock this morning." he told her.
"You have your moments." she said and sat up and kissed him long and slow. "Has Gerrard said anything else about the promotion?"
"Just that I'm on the grid. That's all he said. I know there's a Sargeant's exam coming up in December that I could take. And I have to go and talk to him and Sinclair sometime within the next couple of weeks though."
"Because?"
"Just some things I need to talk to them about. Nothing major. But this promotion would be good. And not just for the whole moving up the ranks thing either. All the extra responsibility, more high profile cases."
Sam guessed that finally emerging from his father's shadow and making a name for himself was next on that list, but he didn't say it and neither did she.
"Not to mention more money." he added. "Can't go wrong there. It's a decent jump in my salary especially with the baby coming soon. And if we want to have more kids somewhere down the road, we can't live in an apartment. We're going to need a house. Something with a yard that's close to parks and schools and is relatively quiet."
She drew back and looked at him. "Do you stay awake at night thinking about all this stuff? Is that what's going on in your head when you're pretending to be asleep?"
"I just want to give you and our kids something nice, Sam. The whole family thing you didn't have growing up. Well, that we both didn't have. And I don't think I can do that on what I make now.
"I do work too, you know." she reminded him.
"I know. But even then, we're not exactly pulling in big money. I mean, don't you want that? A house in a nice neighbourhood? Somewhere we're not afraid to let our kids play alone in the backyard? More space for all the crap that comes with kids?"
"Of course I do. But it's also not the most important thing in the world to me and I hope you don't think it is. I don't care where we live. As long as we're happy and our kids are happy and healthy. That's all that matters to me. And as far as the promotion and the exam go, I have faith in you and I know you'll do great. No doubt in my mind. And I can help you study. I happen to be a very good tutor."
He grinned. "What are you good at tutoring?" he asked.
She raised her head and smiled. "Like you have to ask that? What is my number one skill?"
"I'm suppose to be studying for a detective exam. Not studying female anatomy." he informed her.
"You do not need to study. You happen to be an expert all ready."
"I think when it's time for me to seriously buckle down and study, it's best we stay in separate houses. Because you…." he hooked a finger in the top of her shirt and pulled it away from her chest. Smiling broadly when he saw she had nothing on underneath "are way too distracting." he finished and popped open the top button on the shirt.
"Well then get your mind out of the gutter." Sam told him and slapped his hand away.
"You're sitting on my lap with no underwear and no bra on. Where else is my mind going to be?"
"It's what you get for all the times you've distracted me by walking around in an undershirt. You know I have a fetish with your arms. And you're freckles on your shoulders."
"You're strange." Flack told her.
She shook her head and pressed a light kiss to his lips, then moved to his ear. "You have very, very, very sexy arms." she said, then trailed the tip of her tongue along the edge of his ear.
"Okay." he said, trying to suppress a shudder that took of his body. "You have to get off my lap now."
She giggled. "Any other time you'd be telling me to climb on your lap." she said and kissed his cheek and slid off of him.
"I'm saving all of that for later. Take you to bed and corrupt you all night long."
"I'm four plus months pregnant." she said, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of black cherry flavoured vitamin water. "I think you've corrupted me enough."
"There can never be too much corruption of a sweet, innocent, pure thing like you." Flack said and went back to typing on the lap top.
She fought to undo the cap for a couple of minutes, then gave up, sighed heavily and carried the bottle over to him. She held it out with a cherubic smile.
"How'd you ever survive so long without me?" he asked playfully, taking the bottle from her and effortlessly twisting off the cap. "Can't open lids on stuff, can't get anything on shelves over your head, can't carry anything over twenty pounds…."
"It's why I keep you around." Sam said, giving him a kiss in appreciation before taking a swig of the water. "I use your strength and your height to my advantage. I mean, you didn't think you'd be getting a free ride in this relationship did you?"
A smirked crossed his face and he opened his mouth to let loose a perverted, off hand comment but she laid her hand over his mouth.
"Keep that one to yourself." she said.
"Remember what the doctor said about not drinking too much of that stuff." Flack told her, as she sat in the chair across from him and put her feet in his lap. "Lots of sugar in that."
"Yes, dad." she said. "Do you mind not using my notebook to look at porn? Don't you have your own lap top?"
"Your's is way better than mine." Flack reasoned. "And I am not looking porn. I am talking to my on line girlfriends and having cyber sex."
She snorted and dug her toes into his crotch. "Why would that not surprise me?"
"Ow…..okay….you want more kids, don't you? Keep your feet away from there. And for your information, I am attempting to straighten out a big old fucking mess with your medical coverage."
She frowned. "What big old fucking mess?"
"You never changed your address over with the NYPD from Adam's place to here. So when you went to that appointment at the OB-GYN and the ultrasound and the trip to the the ER, you gave the address here and when the department went to cover it, the address didn't match your file. So guess what?" he held up a sheet of paper. "You owe the state of New York two grand. And the NYPD sent another letter saying your benefits have been cut off until you change your address."
"Ooops."
"So I am trying to change your address on line and send an e-mail explaining how sick you've been and it just slipped your mind so you don't have to pay the bill. And I can't get you covered under me because we're not legally married yet. So hopefully, I can straighten things out this way."
"You are so good to me." she said.
"It's a hard, dirty job, but somebody has to do it." he joked. "We should start getting ready soon. Considering it always takes you so damn long to get ready to go somewhere."
"Hey, I have to look beautiful, you know. It's not easy. We can save time by getting showered at the same time."
"Save time? We'll never leave the shower."
"That's a bad thing?"
"I have plans for tonight. That's all you need to know." he logged off the computer and powered it down and shut the lid.
"Does it involve sex?" she asked hopefully.
"Wow. They weren't kidding when they said some women get really, really horney when they're pregnant. I mean, you were a raging nympho before. Now….."
"Are you complaining? Is that a complaint, Detective Flack?"
"Commenting. Not complaining." he assured her. "And you woke up early. I was going to wake you up at quarter to six."
"You're son or daughter woke me up doing back flips or somersaults or whatever it is they're doing in there." she rubbed her ever expanding stomach in slow, smooth circles. "I noticed now that I'm up they've decided to knock it off."
"How come he never does anything when I'm lying there waiting for an hour?" Flack asked.
"Maybe because it's a girl and she's tired of you calling her 'he' all the time." Sam replied teasingly.
She knew that as much as he wanted his first born to be a boy, that as long as the baby was healthy and had ten fingers and ten toes and could draw a breath, he was satisfied. And that he'd be an amazing father regardless of whether it be a boy or a girl.
"Speaking of little girls." she said, sipping her water. "Daria told me something very interesting today."
"Yeah? What's that?" he asked, tidying up the papers and folders.
"Two interesting things, actually. First, that you used to take her places a lot when you and Max were doing whatever the hell it was you two were doing."
Flack shrugged. "I just spent some time doing things with her. Nothing major. Took her places because she didn't have a father and I felt bad for her. Take some of the pressure off of Max trying to handle everything on her own. Just being a nice guy."
"Well I think you may have been a litle too nice as far as both Daria and Max are concerned."
"Why?" he sensed by the tone of her voice and the way the playfulness escaped her eyes that this was one of those times to just forget whatever he was doing and concentrate solely on whatever was bothering her. And to take it seriously and be sympathetic and understanding no matter how ridiculous it may seem.
"Daria wants you to be her father." Sam told him.
"Well I'm not. And I never will be. She just thinks that way 'cause I'm the only guy that's really been around her. If Max found someone that was father material and would accept the kid, then Daria would move on to them. She's only four. Kids think weird things at four."
"She doesn't just think it, Don. She's pretty insistent that you are going to be her daddy along with being a daddy to the baby."
"Well she's wrong. I'm not going to be her daddy. Okay? Never gonna happen. With work the way it is, I will barely have time to be a daddy to my kid, never mind someone elses. And like I said. She's four. Don't be too much stock into what a four year old says."
"That's not what bothers me. What a kid says." Sam said, as he got up from the table and picked up the folders.
"So what is it that bothers you?" he asked , sitting back down when he realized this issue may not have been a major one for him, but to Sam it was damn near the end of the world. He couldn't wait until she had the baby and she went back to normal. The mood swings and outbursts and ups and downs were beginning to grate on him.
"Max." she replied simply.
Flack sighed and nodded. Looked her dead in the eye and kept his calm and composure even though inside he was tempted to shake some damn sense into her.
"You're going to think I'm stupid." Sam said.
"No. I'm not. If something is bugging you, obviously I want to hear about it. So tell me. Tell me what's going on in your head, Sam. I can't read minds, baby. Did she say something to you?"
Sam nodded and fought back tears. She was sick and tired of her hormones getting the best of her. And most of all, she was sick and tired of being sick and tired.
"Is it really that bad?" Flack asked gently.
"To me it is."
"Okay….so then tell me what it is that's got you like this."
"Do you love Daria like she's your own?" Sam blurted out.
"What?"
"Do you love Daria like she's your own." she repeated.
"What kind of question is that? She's not my own. She's just the daughter of some girl I was sleeping with who is now my partner. I think she's a cute kid and deserves a dad in her life, but I wouldn't say I loved her. And if I did, the most it would be is how an uncle feels about his nieces or nephews."
"She told me that you love Daria like your own."
"Well that's bullshit." he snapped, more at Max's stupidity of saying such a thing than at how upset Sam was at the moment. "You and the baby are everything to me. You two are the reasons I get up in the morning and put up with this fucking job in this God forsaken, God awful shitty fucking mess we call a world. I could never, ever love someone elses child as much as my own."
"I need to know that you're going to be there, Don. When our baby comes. That our baby isn't going to have to share you with someone else."
"Listen to me, Samantha." he reached across the table and took her head. "Look at me so you see the words coming out of my mouth. I love you and our baby and no one is ever going to come between me and my family. And the next time I see Max, I am going to tell her just that. Okay?"
She nodded and wiped at her eyes. "Okay." she agreed.
"I know you're not feeling well and this pregnancy hasn't been easy on you. And we're not even in the middle of it yet. But I do love you and I'm so proud of you. You're so strong, Samantha. I never realized just how tough you were until I saw how sick you've been. And knowing that you're going through all of this just to give me a child…..there are no words to tell you how much I admire you and appreciate you."
She smiled brightly. "God I love you." she said. "And I'm so proud of you, Donnie."
"For what?"
"Everything. For being the way you were in therapy today and for the way you handled things just now and for this whole promotion thing. I'm just proud of you and I love you and I adore you."
"Yeah?" he grinned. "How much do you love and adore me?"
"I can show you later." she suggested.
"I may have to hold you to that."
She grinned. "I hope you do." she said.
She was self conscious about that eighteen pounds she'd already managed to gain. For a girl that was used to slipping easily into size eight clothing, accepting the fact that you now had to maternity clothes because you couldn't get regular pants past your hips and your stomach was a bitter pill to swallow. She was worried about getting stretch marks and being so big she wouldn't be able to see her feet three months down the road. Having a baby was no problem. It was the drastic body changes that came with it that were disheartening. She'd never concerned herself a vain person. She didn't spend much time looking in the mirror and fixing her hair and trying on ten outfits to see which one was best. She rarely wore makeup (and didn't need to as far as Flack was concerned. He found the fresh faced beauty the most appealing one of all, even if she did look young enough to still be a first year college student) and didn't spend hours in the bathroom getting ready to go out like the majority of women did.
Devon had been on of those types. It took her two hours just to do her hair and makeup, never mind the amount of time she spent leading up to the day looking for the perfect outfit and shoes. Once she'd spent five hours getting a manicure because she wanted the poor woman to get the colour of the polish to match her dress perfectly. Flack didn't get it. He understood the need women felt to look and feel beautiful and appealing. But five hours arguing over the colour or nail polish seemed a little much. Devon had just been to materialistic and self centered and too…..Barbie Doll like. He'd settled for that because he didn't want to be alone anymore. Deep down he wanted a girl that felt comfortable in her own skin. Someone who left off the foundation and mascara and fake eyelashes and could just hang out in a pair of tattered jeans and sweats and still look damn good.
And he'd finally found that. Sam could make a garbage bag attractive. But lately, as her weight climbed and the realization that there was still four and a half months to go set in, her confidence was going down the toilet. And the issues with Max were only making it worse. To Flack, regardless of what she weighed and what she wore, Sam Ross was the most beautiful, alluring woman in the world. And as he stood in the doorway of their bedroom, buttoning his white dress shirt and tucking it into his grey pinstriped pants, he watched as her as she studied herself in the mirror on the dresser, a frown on her face as she checked out her side profile.
The dress she had on was stunning. A vibrant red, silk empire waist cocktail dress with a V neckline and back that stopped just above the knee and had fabric blooms stitched along the hem of the tulip skirt. It had been the second of five dresses she'd tried on that day. And the one that had made him want to go in the change room and take advantage of her right there and then. That reaction was enough to know that that dress was the obvious choice. But he could tell by the look on her face that she was starting to question if she'd made the right decision.
"I'm getting fat." she announced, running her hands over her stomach.
"You're not getting fat." he assured her. "You're pregnant. Gotta gain weight when you're pregnant."
She sighed and turned to face the mirror and leaned close to it, eyeing the roots of her hair that were quickly becoming more and more noticeable. "Look at me. My hair looks like shit. I haven't been able to dye it since I got pregnant and I won't be able do dye it again until after the baby is born. By then I'll look like a skunk."
"You're real hair colour is nicer than that purple crap anyway." Flack offered up his opinion.
She pushed her bangs away from her face and secured them on each side with black jewelled barrettes. She stepped back from the mirror again and ran her hands over her hips. "My boobs and my hips are getting way too big." she said.
He smirked and bit back the perverted comment that threatened to escape. A comment like that during one of her ranting sessions would only earn him a fuck you or a smack across the face.
"You look handsome." she said for a change of pace, eyeing him through the mirror, a smile on her face.
He could look drop dead gorgeous in a suit and tie or faded baggy jeans and a ratty t-shirts and a baseball hat and those hideous Adidas sandals that he coveted so much. Tonight, he wore the suit that she managed to talk him into buying earlier that day. It was a dark grey and had pinstripes and his crisp white shirt and red and blue and grey stripped tie completed the look.
"Well it's hard work trying to look good alongside of you." he said, knotting the tie, noticing the way her face and eyes brightened with such a simple compliment. And she was even more beautiful when she smiled.
"Can you?" she asked, gesturing to the zipper at the back of her dress.
"You know it's dangerous asking me to do stuff like that." he teased, crossing the room and standing behind her. "I'm better at getting you out of clothes than into them."
There was a lot of pent up sexual tension inside of them both. Although they had agreed on a joint shower, they'd also agreed to keep things from becoming intimate in any way, shape or form. The only problem was that the sight of her naked body was enough to nearly blow his mind. Her hips were becoming fuller and her breasts heavier, and her belly seemed to be getting bigger with each passing day now. And the realization that he was the one responsible for getting her that way to begin with was the greatest turn on of them all.
However, after several attempts at intimacy, it had become all too apparent that no possible position was comfortable for her in that cramped shower. And by that time she was so frustrated and slightly embarrassed that nothing he could possibly do for her, or to her, that would make her relax and feel better. So they'd mutually agreed to end things right there and then and just concentrate on taking a shower.
Except now they were both on edge and frustrated. Flack felt like he was nearly dying from frustration as her delicate, intoxicating perfume permeated his senses and he felt the silky skin of her back under his fingers as he reached for the zipper.
Sam shivered under his feathery touch as his fingertips travelled from the small of her back to the middle as he pulled up the zipper and fastened the small catch. Goosebumps overtook her body as he slid his fingers up the remainder of her back and across her shoulders and then down her arms. Clasping her hands in his as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the sensitive back of her neck.
She sighed heavily at the warmth that took over her body. Their eyes met in the mirror and he smiled at her.
"You look beautiful." he told her.
"You really think so? You don't think I look fat?"
"Naw. You look good." he nodded his head appreciating and gave that half smile that never failed to make her knees go weak. "Real good." he added, and presed a kiss to her shoulder.
God, it was taking all the will power she had not to jump him right there and then. As horny as she always seemed to be before she was pregnant, now that she was, sex had become a necessity almost. Akin to breathing, nearly. But there were worse things to be addicted to.
She shuddered as his lips travelled across her shoulder to the back of her neck once again. This time he licked and sucked and grazed the spot with his teeth.
"Okay…." she said and wriggled away, dropping his hands. "I think maybe you and I should stay on opposite sides of the room for awhile."
She turned around to face him and tightened and straightened his tie. "Are you going to tell me where we're going yet?" she asked hopefully.
"I told you. It's a surprise. But we do need to get going. I wanna take a cab so far and then walk the rest of the way. It's nice outside. Perfect for a little walk."
"You're up to something." Sam said. "A big something."
"All you need to know is that it's a surprise and you'll enjoy every minute of it. Or at least I hope you will."
"Who came to the door while I was getting dressed?" she asked, slipping into a simple pair of black kitten heels. She grabbed her black shawl and matching clutch purse on her way out the bedroom door.
"Part of the surprise." he replied, following behind.
"Have a told you yet how anxious I get about surprises?" she asked.
"Only about twenty times in the last hour."
"You're making me very nervous, Donnie." she scolded him.
"Nothing to be nervous about. I'm not leading you into the depths of hell or anything. Stop being so paranoid about everything and just relax and enjoy yourself. Okay?"
"Okay." she agreed, although somewhat reluctantly. "I just don't see you can't give me some kind of…" she stopped mid sentence as they entered the living room and were greeted by the sight of a beautiful arrangement of asters and roses in a sparkling crystal vase. She halted and turned to face him with both a pleased, surprised smile on her face and tears in her eyes.
"Just thought it would be a nice thing to do." Flack told her.
She reached up and touched his face softly and then headed over to get a closer look at her flowers. "You don't usually do things like this." she said, almost in awe, as she plucked the card out from the leaves.
He shrugged. "You like them?"
"They're beautiful. Thank you." she opened the card. Just because, it read inside. "You certainly were a busy boy when you were supposedly working." she teased.
"Hey, I can't let you know all my secrets, can I? Gotta keep some of them back. Admit you, you like my mysterious side."
"Sometimes." she agreed.
He laid a hand on the side of her face and kissed her. Long and sweet. "Never doubt how much I love you." he said. "Even when things may seem pretty shitty. Never doubt it."
"I won't." she vowed.
"And all this shit with Max? Ignore it. I'll take care of it. You just have to trust me. Give me a little while and I'll fix everything. I promise."
"How are you going too…."
He silenced her with a kiss. "I promise." he stressed. "You and I? We can fix anything, Sam. You know that."
She nodded and allowed herself to be drawn into those strong, comforting arms. She circled his waist with her arms and rested her had against his chest, listening to the pounding of his heart.
She'd finally found where she had belonged all along. And she never wanted to leave that moment. The feeling of security that being in his arms provided her with. With him, she felt protected and safe. And she knew, as long as she stayed right where she was, nothing bad could ever happen to them.
Or to her.
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