Rayna
She stood at the door and watched Deacon go down the steps to his truck. She didn't think he could see her through the sheers on the door. She knew he wouldn't like thinking she was watching him. She couldn't tell him how anxious she was every time he walked out the door without her. He probably knew, though. It wasn't their first time doing this and if she'd told him once she'd told him a thousand times how much it scared her whenever he left, even just to go to a meeting. She wanted this to work for him – for both of them, really – but she was always conscious of how fragile he was, especially this soon out of rehab. She thought back to the conversation she'd had with Cole, back when she'd initially made her decision about telling Deacon about the baby.
Cole rubbed his hands over his face and when he looked back at her, he looked weary. "Are you really sure about this?" he asked.
"Cole, I'm pregnant. Sooner or later it's going to be obvious. Don't you think he'd have a bunch of questions?"
Cole sighed. "Rayna, you know about his blackouts. I'm not sure he'd remember. And haven't you been dating someone else?"
She shook her head. "Not really. I went out with that guy Tandy set me up with a few times, but he's just not for me. And I haven't been sleeping with him. I don't think I can lie to Deacon."
"Will you at least wait until he's out of rehab?"
"Of course."
"And don't expect too much from him. I know I'm not telling you anything you don't already know, but the first year out of rehab is so tenuous. It's hard to work on sobriety and a relationship at the same time. In fact, you know the program discourages that."
"I know that, Cole." She did know that. But they were already in a relationship. She couldn't change that. Every single time Deacon had come out of rehab, that one year mark still loomed large. He had gotten past it, just barely, the first time, and made it a year and a half the third time. It was a lot for him though, to be working on staying sober along with the demands of being a touring musician and being in a relationship that was always both highly volatile and all-consuming. She had always believed that it was the relationship that grounded him, but this would be different and she knew that. "The thing is, by the time he gets out of rehab this time my tour will be over. I'm planning on taking an extended leave when the baby comes, so that's really all we'll have to worry about."
Cole looked at her and sighed deeply. "All he ever wants is to please you. But that can also be overwhelming for him. And now he'll need to be a father and, I guess, a husband and that's still a big mountain to climb."
"I don't know that he'll have to do more than be a father, Cole. And that's only if he wants to. I'm not planning for this to be all in immediately. I just feel like I need to let him know he's going to be a father. Maybe that will make the difference."
Cole shook his head. "He has to do this for himself, Rayna."
"I know, I know, I know. But doing it for himself could make him a better, more present father." She frowned. "Cole, I'm pregnant. Unless you suggest I get an abortion, which I would never do, he's going to know. I won't lie to him."
She sighed. She'd considered it though, the not telling him thing. Not even a week later, Deacon had bailed on rehab and she surely had considered lying to him then. Although what that lie would have been, she had no clue. She wasn't sure how much he remembered of the time she was there at the cabin and seeing him having fallen off the wagon so deeply and so completely had given her pause. Things hadn't gone the way she'd planned and now she'd put her stake in the sand, so to speak. She would do everything she could to make sure he didn't falter again. Which had included the decision to go all in after all.
When her phone rang, she walked over to answer it. "Hello?"
"Hey, sweetheart, how are you?" It was Tandy.
"Hey, Tandy. I'm good."
"How are you feeling?"
"Good. No issues. Everything is great with the baby."
"And what about Deacon? How are things with him?"
"They're wonderful, Tandy. We're doing great." She hated how Tandy made her feel about Deacon. Her sister had never liked him and her feelings had only gotten stronger the longer the relationship went on.
"Well, that's good. Is he going to his meetings and..."
"Stop it," she said angrily. "I'm not going to talk to you about this."
"Aren't you at least a little worried, Rayna? It's not just getting back into your band this time, it's so much more than that. It's a baby. A defenseless baby."
"I'm not having this conversation with you. I know this is important. And I will be there. He won't be doing this on his own."
"But Rayna..."
She hung up. She'd heard this story from Tandy for nearly as long as she'd heard it from Cole. She didn't want either of them to know how terrified she was. This was Deacon's last, best chance and she was determined to get him across the finish line this time. And if she couldn't? And he couldn't? Then she could hang it up and know she'd done everything she could. For him and for their child.
She put her hands on the counter and breathed in and out, trying to calm her nerves. She closed her eyes and then put one hand on her stomach. Please keep us all safe. Please give Deacon the courage and determination to make this work. Please let us have this chance. She opened her eyes and straightened up. This was going to work. She just wouldn't let it end any other way.
Deacon was late. She didn't know what to do. She started pacing the house, periodically stopping at the front window or the door, checking to see if his truck had pulled up. He'd been gone for over 2 hours. "This can't be happening," she whispered to herself. "Not already." She worked herself up so much that she started to cry, giving herself a headache in the process. His phone went to voice mail. She finally called Cole.
"Hey, Rayna," he said when he answered.
"Cole, Deacon's late getting home and I'm worried." She had splashed her face with cold water, but she could feel the tears again. "He went to a later meeting and..."
"He called me and I met him there. I had to leave afterwards, but I told me he'd be heading home. I would have thought he'd be there by now." She was feeling panicky. "Do you want me to look for him?"
"I don't know. I guess. I don't even know what to think." She knew Deacon and Cole often had coffee after their meeting but this was different.
"He was fine at the meeting. He talked about the baby coming and that the two of you were going to go buy furniture. I'm sure it's not what you're thinking."
"But he's never late. And he's not answering his phone." She was still pacing the house, still looking out the window. And then she saw him, his truck slowly making its way down the street. "I see him, Cole. He's home."
"Let me know if I need to come over."
"I will. Thanks." She disconnected and then she walked out onto the porch. She saw him park and then get out of his truck, reaching for a guitar case that he hadn't walked out of the house with. When he approached the steps and saw her on the porch, he smiled and picked up his pace. When he was standing in front of her, she wrapped her arms around his neck almost frantically, holding him close and breathing in his scent. She started to cry again.
Deacon
Since Cole had had to leave after the meeting, he had stayed afterwards, talking with some of the other attendees. This was not a meeting he normally went to but he'd been inspired by some of the stories and wanted to hear more. One of the things he'd grown to appreciate in rehab had been talking to other people about their challenges. Hearing from those who'd made things work, especially after more than one visit to rehab, often gave him tips and tricks he could use. Even those who'd just relapsed and returned to the program were inspirational. He had recognized, this last time in rehab, that he hadn't really understood the true work around staying sober, especially when he was in circumstances that were challenging. The stories he'd heard that day had been enlightening. After he left the meeting, he'd stopped by the place where he'd left one of his guitars to be restrung back before he'd gone to rehab. He'd talked to the owner and checked out some other guitars before finally heading home.
As he walked up to the house, he'd been surprised to see Rayna on the porch. It was a cold day and she didn't have a coat or even a sweater on. When he came up the steps, he could see the distraught look on her face just before she pulled him in to a tight embrace. She breathed in deeply as she buried her face in his neck and he knew she was smelling for alcohol. That was when he realized that he'd turned his phone off for the meeting and never turned it back on. When she finally let him go, he set down the guitar case and looked into her eyes, swollen with tears, and felt tears in his own for worrying her. He reached for her hands.
"I'm so sorry, baby. I turned off my phone. I didn't mean to scare you," he said. He noticed she was shivering, but he didn't know if it was from the emotions or the fact that she wasn't dressed warmly. "Let's get you inside." He led her to the door and opened it, letting her go in ahead of him, then closing the door behind him.
"You can't do that, Deacon!" she cried out, a mix of anger and fear in her voice. "You need to have your phone on or at least turn it back on and let me know what's going on. Where have you been? I've been so worried."
He could tell. He felt a flare of anger, much like he had every other time she'd done it during their life together. Her worry, though, was usually tinged with her own anger and frustration over his drinking. But he wasn't drinking now. He forced himself to be calm, to understand her concerns, especially now. "I'm sorry, baby. I stayed a little longer at the meeting because there were some other people I really wanted to talk to. Their stories really spoke to me and I wanted to hear more. It was amazing to hear some of the things they went through, some worse than me, and hear what worked." He could see her seem to relax a bit. "Then I stopped to pick up a guitar I left at Gruhn's months ago." He reached for her and pulled her into his arms. "But you're right. I shoulda called you. I don't mean for you to worry."
She looked up at him. "I'm glad you found some people to talk to, really I am. It does make me a little nervous though when I don't know what's going on." She smiled a little. "I think it's a lot because I'm pregnant. And you never know if something will happen."
He knew that really wasn't the reason, but he was willing to go along with it. "It's okay, baby," he said. "I know you talked about looking at baby stuff. You still wanna do that?"
"Actually, I changed my mind. I was thinking we should go out and get a Christmas tree and decorate it. Christmas is not too far away and we haven't done any decorating at all. We could go by my apartment and get the decorations too. What do you think?"
He kissed the tip of her nose. "I think that sounds perfect. Go get you a coat and we'll go."
It started to snow while they were at their favorite Christmas tree lot. Really just flurries, but it seemed to be appropriate for their task. He thought back to the first Christmas they'd spent together. She'd been living with him since her father kicked her out, so almost 8 months. She had gotten a job waiting tables at a diner nearby and together, with the money he earned from the bar back and soundboard jobs he had, they had enough to buy a tree and some decorations. Christmas trees, even small ones, were expensive and they'd had to buy a scraggly looking tree that Rayna was determined to make beautiful. She bought garland and a few strands of lights and then had snuck into her father's house when he was at work and had taken a box of ornaments from the attic. They had turned the lights out in the apartment and the Christmas tree lights on and it had left a lump in his throat watching her smile as the multicolored lights lit up her face. He always wanted to see that look on her face and it had killed him to remember the number of times he'd ruined that.
She was smiling now though as she walked up and down the rows of trees, with him following behind her. They no longer had to buy the ugliest tree on the lot, but it still made his heart happy to see her joy in preparing for the holidays. The only thing that cast a dark cloud over it was the prospect of Christmas dinner at Lamar's. He'd hoped maybe that would be off the table, but she had rolled her eyes and told him that no, her father still expected them to show up.
Holiday dinners with Lamar were the worst. They usually didn't end up staying the entire time, mainly because he would end up in some sort of argument with Lamar. Most of those times were because he either drank too much or was already tipsy when they arrived. Rayna bounced back and forth between being angry with her father for baiting him or with him for taking the bait. He couldn't understand why they continued to have to go year after year.
"Deacon, what about this one?" She brought him out of his musing as she stood next to a beautiful, full Douglas fir. Her eyes were sparkling. "Isn't this beautiful?"
He smiled. "Best one yet," he said. "This the one you want?"
She nodded. "I do." His heart felt full as he looked at her. Her cheeks were just a little pink from the chill in the air. She had fretted about the coat that strained around her midsection, but he thought she looked beautiful with her little baby bump. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders and all he really wanted to do was drag his fingers through it. "I'll go find someone to get it wrapped up for us." He watched as she wandered off in search of a worker to help, thinking how lucky he was to be sober and back in Rayna Jaymes' life. Even if he was a little nervous at the prospect of being a father, he would have her beside him every step of the way. His life couldn't be better.
He stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom. His hair was still a little damp and he had on a white dress shirt. It was buttoned all the way up and he had the sensation he was choking. He unbuttoned the top button and then one more. He turned and walked into the bedroom. "Do I gotta wear a tie?" he asked.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for him. "I think you should." She smiled. "You look so nice all dressed up." She got up and went to the closet. He didn't have many ties, mainly because he never wore them. The ones he did have had all been bought by Rayna. He had at least gotten her to let him wear black jeans instead of dress pants. She came back with 2 ties, one red and one black. "Which do you like?"
"Neither," he said and she made a face. "The red one, I guess." She tossed the black one on the still unmade bed and approached him with the red one, as he rebuttoned the shirt. He thought she looked so pretty, with a long-sleeved green dress that skimmed her body, showing off her growing stomach. She was wearing a pair of high heels he was surprised she could balance on. Her reddish-blonde hair was shining in the lamp light. As she reached around to slide the tie on, he put his hands on her hips and smiled. "You look gorgeous, baby."
She smiled and leaned in to give him a brief kiss. Then she concentrated on tying the tie. When she was done, she patted his chest with both hands. "And you, my love, look very handsome," she said. She walked back to the closet and came out with a black jacket. She looked at him with a very serious look in her eyes. "Please don't let Daddy bait you today. Anything he says, just let it roll off."
He huffed as he took the jacket from her. "Baby, you know he's gonna try to..."
She shook her head and waved her hands in front of her. "No. I don't want any arguments today. Just don't respond to him." She sighed. "I know you don't want to go. I don't want to go either, but we need to."
"But why, Rayna? Lamar's just gonna be a jerk, like always."
She shrugged. "Yeah, he will." She looked at him. "Maybe we guess how long it is before he says something so ridiculous that we leave." She gave him a sly smile. "Want to?"
He smiled as he pulled on the jacket. "Halfway through dinner," he said.
"Before dessert," she countered, then turned and headed for the great room. She pointed at 2 wrapped gifts on the coffee table. "Can you get those?" He walked over to pick up the gifts for Rayna's father and sister. He didn't really understand why she insisted on doing this every year. She hated it almost as much as he did. He watched as she got her coat and slipped it on. He looked around the room. The stockings were on the mantel, filled with fruit and guitar picks and pencils. The new guitar she'd gotten for him was leaning against the wall and the fancy new cowgirl boots he'd gotten for her were next to the couch. The lights were off, but the tree was beautiful and Rayna had even put lights along the mantle. It had looked very festive that morning as they sat on the couch under a blanket and dreamed about how different life would be when their baby girl arrived. "Deacon?"
He looked back at her. "Sorry. You ready?" She nodded. They headed out the front door.
Rayna
She sat looking out of the windshield, trying to stay calm. Just when she thought she might need to get out of the truck, the driver's side door opened. She looked over and watched as Deacon practically threw himself in the seat and slammed the door. His face was red, his eyes were wild, and the anger was wafting off of him. He slammed the heel of his hand against the steering wheel and made an angry noise. She could see that his shirt was unbuttoned and she wondered where the tie was. She gave him a few minutes and then she reached out and gently put her hand on his arm. He breathed in deeply and let it out slowly, then turned to look at her.
"I'm sorry," he said.
She shook her head. "Don't be sorry. Daddy was awful. You had every right to be mad. I was mad too."
"I know I gotta not let him get to me."
"Well, that would probably be a good idea, but he pushes my buttons too. It's almost like he can't help it." She smiled. "But I was proud of you for not punching him."
"I wanted to."
"I know." She rubbed her hand up and down his arm. "You won though." He looked confused. "We only made it halfway through dinner." She smiled and finally he smiled back at her, then laughed.
"So what do we do now?"
"Well, we're all dressed up and I know there's got to be someplace that's open. And I'm hungry."
They ended up at a Waffle House, the only place they could find that was open. It wasn't like the early days, when they would end up at a Waffle House or a diner and share a plate of food, because that was all they could afford. These days they could afford to eat at Nashville's best restaurants, each with their own plate, but it had felt good to sit across from each other, in a place with all the other people who likely had nowhere else to go, and eat eggs and bacon and hashbrowns. She thought it was definitely better than the turkey she had an aversion to and the sweet potatoes and green beans and pumpkin pie they'd walked away from, along with watching her father try to bait Deacon into a fight. Or a drink.
She'd been proud of him, the way he'd restrained himself, even though she knew he wanted to, as he said, punch her father. He'd finally thrown his napkin on the table and, taking her hand, pulled her out of her seat. They had briskly walked to the foyer, where she grabbed her coat, and had walked out, slamming the door behind them. She'd held her breath while he had stood out in the cold, pulling himself together. These were the kinds of things that could set him off, would set him off in the past. But he'd held it together and now they were enjoying the day and he looked happy. And content. She felt a little more hopeful that this time he could make this work.
She looked forward to going back to the cottage and curling up under a blanket, watching the twinkling of the tree lights and the crackling of the fire. It was a new start for them, one she hoped would be the beginning of the kind of life they'd talked about when they were just starting out, back when it was all about love and the music. And each other.
It was 8 weeks until her due date. The energy she'd had during her second trimester had finally given way to the exhaustion of the third. She was tired and uncomfortable and often cranky. They'd had little spats here and there, but it had culminated in another fight when Deacon had asked her to marry him and presented a ring. They were at the cabin for the weekend and were sitting out on the porch. It was March and still a little cool, so she was sitting in a chair with a blanket wrapped around her. Deacon had his guitar and they had worked a little on some music and had sang together. It was turning to dusk and she was feeling relaxed for a change. The baby had settled down and she ran her hand over her belly under the blanket, feeling happy and peaceful. That was when Deacon set his guitar aside and knelt down on the floor next to her.
He looked up at her, his face filled with hope and love, and opened the little box to show her a beautiful diamond ring. "Baby, I think it's time we did this. Will you marry me?"
She was caught off guard. She didn't want to do this at the cabin. She flashed back to the proposal that had led to her getting pregnant, the one he didn't remember, due to his blackouts. It wasn't a pleasant memory for her. She still wasn't sure they should do this along with everything else. They'd talked about it, several times, never really coming to an agreement on it. He wanted to go ahead and get married, while she thought just getting through having the baby was enough, especially with him still so newly out of rehab. But she looked into his eyes, filled with love and hope, and felt herself wavering. It was what she'd dreamed of – being his wife and raising a family together. But his recovery was still so fragile and she didn't want to damage that. She felt caught in the middle. "Deacon..."
He frowned. "You gonna say no again," he said, more a statement than a question. "Why are we doing this if we ain't doing it all?" He snapped the box shut and started to stand up. She reached out and touched his arm.
"We've talked about this before. We don't have to do this right now. We've got so much going on right now..."
"I don't get it, Rayna. We're supposed to be doing this together. That was what you said. But it don't really seem like that's what you want. It's just another no."
"I'm not going to say no," she said, her voice soft. She saw the hopefulness in his face and the beginning of a smile. "You know I want to be your wife. More than anything. I don't think we have to rush into everything, but yes, I will marry you."
She could see the tears in his eyes as he opened the box again and retrieved the ring. He took her hand and slid the ring on. She held it up, the diamond shining in the moonlight. It was beautiful, not at all like the ring he'd given her before. At least he knew this time he was asking her and she was hopeful that it would be a new beginning for them. He leaned towards her and kissed her, then looked at her with a joyful smile. "I love you so much, baby," he said.
She realized there were tears in her own eyes. "I love you too," she murmured. He took her hand and helped her get out of the chair and then wrapped his arms around her, kissing her again. She put her hands on both side of his face, letting herself give in to the emotions of the moment.
Deacon
It had been a great few days at the cabin. It would be the last time they'd go before the baby came. Rayna wanted to be in town – and closer to the hospital – as they got closer to her due date. He understood that and had really wanted their last hurrah to be memorable. He had bought the ring a few weeks earlier and had just waited for the right time to give it to her. They'd had conversations before about getting married, but Rayna had been noncommittal about it. She would say things like 'we don't have to rush into anything' and 'I don't want you to have too much on your plate after rehab' and he would argue about it but then let it go. She'd dug her heels in, it seemed, and he wasn't completely sure why. Yes, he knew all the admonitions about taking on too much after rehab, but they were having a baby together and they were together and he felt like they should be married.
They'd bought all the baby furniture and had put it together. At least, he had put it together, but that was okay. She had made sure everything was arranged the way she liked it and she'd put up all the baby gifts she'd gotten. The crib and cradle were set up. She had told him she wanted the baby to sleep in their room at first. He wasn't completely sure about that, but he wanted her to be happy, so he'd given in on that point. She had picked out the outfit they would bring their daughter home in. He had hung pictures in the room and had even bought a little ukulele and stand and put it in the room. Rayna had loved it.
It was time to take the next step, though, at least as far as he was concerned. He thought maybe if he asked her with a real proposal that she'd say yes. So he'd gone to the jeweler and they'd helped him pick out the perfect ring. It was what the jeweler told him was a cushion cut. He had no idea what that meant, but of all the shapes he'd seen, he thought it would be the prettiest on her hand. He got 2 ½ carats, which didn't seem too big or too small. Smaller diamonds were on either side of the primary stone. It was beautiful. Even when he knew the price, he knew it was worth it for her. He had one of her rings with him, one she wore on her ring finger, so they were able to size it properly. Then when he'd gone back to get it, he felt some anxiety and panic, but he'd breathed in and out and got through it. And then it was just picking the right time.
It was the last night they were at the cabin and they'd had an amazing day. They had taken a walk along the lake and then sat on the dock and talked about the future. They'd written a little and ended up in bed, as they so often did. He was gentle with her, but their lovemaking had still, as always, drawn them closer together. Even though she sometimes complained about looking fat or not being able to see her feet or put on her shoes, she had told him many times that she had enjoyed being pregnant. He still thought she was beautiful even though she was sometimes self-conscious about the changes in her body. He'd been fascinated by all of it, even if sometimes the responsibility of it left him a little breathless. He wanted to do right by her and for the baby. If he still had moments of wanting to escape the pressure, he attributed it to the unknowns. The knowledge that this baby would be depending on him sometimes made his chest hurt. He wanted to be the father his daughter deserved.
But most of all, he loved Rayna. Had loved her ever since he met her. And he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, making her happy. So he had put the ring box in his pocket before they went to sit on the porch. When he got down on his knee and showed her the ring and asked her to marry him, it seemed like she was going to say no yet again. But then she surprised him. She said yes.
He slid the ring on her finger, tears in his eyes. "I love you so much, baby," he said, after kissing her.
"I love you too," she said, her voice soft. She could hardly keep her eyes off the ring, it seemed, and that made him happy. He helped her to her feet and kissed her again, holding her close. Everything was perfect.
At least until they got back to Nashville.
They were standing in the kitchen after putting away the groceries. He had asked her when she wanted to have the wedding and at first she had been vague, telling him they didn't need to decide that very day. When he'd pressed her about doing it before the baby was born, she sighed.
"Deacon, I don't think we have to do it right away," she said. "Maybe after she's born and we've gotten used to her and her schedule."
He was confused. "Why does that matter, Ray? We'd have to do that whether we're married or not. I just thought it would be good to be married when she's born."
She waved her hand. "That just doesn't matter that much to me. I don't know that I want to get married when I'm 9 months pregnant. I'd like to be able to get a nice wedding dress, especially for the pictures."
He frowned. "Well, it matters to me. I don't want our daughter to wonder why we didn't do it sooner. And I been asking you all this time. You could've done it sooner and had that pretty wedding dress."
She looked at him as though she was exasperated. "Babe, we've talked about this before. You haven't been out of rehab even 6 months yet."
He made a fist and swung it through the air, feeling pissed all over again. "Damn it, Rayna. I told you I can do this. It's a piece of paper. It don't change anything. We're still living in the same house, we'll still be raising our kid together."
Her eyes opened wide. "It doesn't change anything? Deacon, it changes everything. Not only are you making a commitment to being sober, but you're making a commitment to being a good father. That's enough. More than enough, really. Why would you want to add more to that? Why would you want to tempt fate like that?"
He shoved his hands in his pockets. He truly didn't understand why it made a difference. He felt angry, but then he felt hurt. He looked at her. "Do you not wanna marry me?" he asked.
She looked startled by that. "Of course I want to marry you, Deacon. That's what I've always wanted. But it doesn't have to be today. Or tomorrow. Or a month from now. I am committed to you. That's what all of this is all about. It's why I told you I was pregnant. It's why I wanted to do this with you. I don't need to be married to you. I want to though. I truly do." He saw tears in her eyes. "If it's that important to you, we can do it now, but I'd really like to have that beautiful wedding I've always dreamed about. When we can really focus on that and make it special. For all of us."
The thing he hated most was seeing her cry. That had always been true. He crossed the kitchen and took her in his arms and kissed her. "Then that's what we'll do, baby," he said. He kissed her again. "We'll do it exactly like you want."
She looked up at him. "I've loved you my whole life, Deacon. I'm not going to stop loving you. That will be true whether we're married or not." She put one hand on his cheek. "I'm going to want to do all of this with you. Raising up our family, playing music together, all of it. I just don't want us to feel like we have to put a timetable on it. We'll do it in the right timing."
He had rarely been able to deny her anything, especially when she looked at him with such love in her eyes. There was a part of him that still wanted to be married, but she was wearing the ring, and she did say they would do it. He needed to trust her. He nodded. "Yeah, we will," he said. He couldn't help but feel, at least a little bit, like she was still calling the shots, making all the decisions in their life together, but he also believed in her love for him, so he decided to set it aside.
Rayna had really never been self-conscious – about anything really – but especially about her body. Behind closed doors she had few inhibitions. Maybe it was because she was 16 when they started having sex and no one had ever told her to be ashamed or to wait or even what to expect. She'd been curious right from the start. Nervous that first time, to be sure, but always curious. He'd had more experience, although that didn't mean he was any sort of expert, so initially he'd taken the lead, but they'd learned together, finding what they liked and how to satisfy each other. So he'd been surprised when she'd started feeling embarrassed about her body as her pregnancy progressed. She didn't mind him touching her, but she always seemed a little anxious about undressing. It had gotten better, but it still lingered.
He loved how she looked though and how she felt. Touching her was different and they'd had to adapt to her growing belly as they navigated lovemaking. He always told her she was beautiful and she'd blush a little, but she always seemed nervous that somehow he wouldn't still be attracted to her.
It was a frigid day in mid March. Temperatures had plummeted and there had been some icy rain in the forecast. After he had made sure the pipes wouldn't freeze, he'd started a fire, warming up the living room. She made hot chocolate and brought them both mugs full of the sweet, hot drink. She took a sip, then smiled. "I'd like to write today," she said. "How about you?"
He was always up for writing. "Sounds good to me. You got something in mind?"
"I was thinking maybe something about the baby. Or how our lives will be different. Or both maybe."
That was how it started. They tossed ideas back and forth, struggling a bit at first, but found it hard to write about babies. But while they were talking through their hopes and dreams for their daughter it seemed to bleed over into their hopes and dreams for themselves and their family. They ended up on the floor, with wadded up paper all around. Somehow a pizza appeared and then more hot chocolate. More scribbling and paper strewn about until finally they were wrapped up in each other's arms. Finally he helped her up off the floor and led her to the bedroom.
Between kisses, she pulled off his shirt and unfastened his belt. He slid his hands underneath her sweater and unhooked her bra. He reached back and cupped her full, heavy breasts and she moaned. He pulled back and started to lift up her sweater and she gently pushed his hands away. "No, baby," he whispered. "Let me."
"I don't know," she said hesitantly. She bit her lip as he waited. "I mean, I'm fat, Deacon." She looked like she wanted to cry.
He smiled. "You ain't fat, baby. You're beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful." He kissed her. "You know that." He was glad that she let him first take off her sweater, then pull her bra off. He cupped her breasts, letting his tongue gently run over her nipples, which were already hard. She finally started to relax as she gripped his arms. Then he looked into her eyes and took her hand, placing it over his erection, as it strained against his jeans. "Feel that?" he murmured. She nodded. "That's how much I want you, baby. Just the way you are." He brushed his lips against hers. "Let me see you."
It really wasn't that he hadn't seen her this way, because of course he had. But he wanted her to be as comfortable as she'd been in the past, knowing he loved her no matter what. She was breathing hard, then finally she slid the loose-fitting pants down over her belly, letting them drop to the floor. He swallowed hard. Everything about her was more voluptuous, sexier. He removed his own jeans, wanting her to see how aroused he was, how turned on she had made him. He reached out and let his finger trace her curves, then flattened his hand against her belly. He stepped closer, pulling her in close, so she could feel how much he wanted her.
She lifted her face to his and he kissed her. He took two steps back and, holding her hands in his, looked her over, making sure that what she saw in his face was the same desire he'd always had for her, that he still had for her. He could see that she was starting to relax and he led her to the bed, helping her get in. Then he slid in behind her. She adjusted herself and he entered her slowly, placing kisses on her shoulder. It didn't take long for her to respond to him, moaning as he touched her and moved inside her. Then they responded to each other as one, speaking to each other in the way they always had.