At Second Blush

by OyHumbug

Part Two of the Mother of the Bride Series - In the three months since her only child's wedding, Beth Marks' life completely changed. Not only did she fall in love again, but she, Rio, and his son, Marcus, became a family together. Now, that family is about to grow. Doubly so.

8. Chapter Eight - 34 Weeks

Chapter Eight: 34 Weeks

Beth's office technically had four walls, but they were shared with the other administrative assistants on the executive floor. While the president, vice president and director of finance - her boss, provost, and director of communications all had individual offices, their support staff, of which Beth was a part, worked out of common space situated right outside all of their usually closed doors. The lobby area of the suite also contained a waiting room, also open, and a small coffee bar, so the assistants didn't have to leave the suite to procure drinks before meetings. There was a large, imposing, separate conference room as well.

The entire arrangement worked extremely well for the executives. It was tremendously convenient for them. For example, should one of Beth's fellow assistants call out sick or take a vacation, there were still three others who could serve as emergency fill-ins and, more importantly, gate-keepers, preventing someone lower down on the hierarchy chart from just barging in on very important work.

On the other hand, at least for Beth, the shared space was, on its best days, a nuisance and, on its worst days, an insult. Because nothing made you feel the burn of disproportionate responsibilities more than getting to see for yourself how little, at least in comparison to you, your equals on that same hierarchy chart did. Not only did she have to put up with the constant chatter - inane and almost always gossipy, but she also had to work through her lunch in order to get all of her tasks accomplished, while her coworkers chatted aimlessly about their break plans, their weekend plans, their vacation plans. It was always worse during the summer, too.

Part of the disparity Beth had no one to blame for but herself. Bored with just regular administrative work, wanting to prove her worth, and having been at Wayne State for so long, she started voluntarily taking on more responsibility for non-administrative tasks. She didn't just type up budget proposals and print out projections; she started writing and running them, interpreting them. Beth could recite enrollment and operating expense numbers going back a decade

and extrapolate them into both the short and long term ramifications for the university. She and her boss both knew that he would be lost without her, and that used to be enough for Beth - the sense of self-accomplishment… even if no one else acknowledged her efforts and contributions, but it was starting to not sit so well with her anymore. It was starting to sting… and not just because Kensley had mocked her career the last time they saw each other."Hey now, what's this? They have you workin' in a sorority house?"

Rio's question, his voice, brought Beth out from under her musings and out from behind her three monitor setup… only to be confronted by not just his and Marcus' expectant faces but also by her three coworkers' intrigued stares. Beth was congenial at the office. She made small talk with the other assistants, but it wasn't like she was confiding in them about her sex - and now dating - life. The four of them had known each other for years, but they didn't actually

know her. Now that they were getting such an eye-opening glimpse into her personal life, Beth knew they wouldn't let her leave without giving them some answers first. If only she'd thought about that before agreeing to Rio's plan."What's a sorority house," Marcus wanted to know. He, unlike his father, spoke loud enough, though, so that everyone in the shared space could hear him. The other women tittered."It's heaven for a teenage boy but a livin' hell for anyone else." Beth, on the other hand, was the only one to laugh at Rio's response. At the same time, she also tilted her head to the side and gave him a look that said there was no way Marcus would let him get away with such an answer. And, sure enough, the eight year old was already opening his mouth to ask for more information when Rio beat him to the punch. "It's a… social group for girls when they're in college, and they all live together. I was teasin' Elizabeth, 'cause we've been here five minutes, and while she was too busy workin' to notice us, the other… women have been socializin' the entire time."

Beth shrugged, because what could she say, especially when those very same women were watching them with fascinated, unblinking eyes. "You get used to it."

His narrowed gaze told Beth that he didn't buy it but was letting it go… for now. "This place couldn't even swing a cubicle for you?"

As she started to save and close out of what was on her screen, organizing her already organized and neat desk, Beth teased, "you of all people understand the value of aesthetics. Apparently, glass walls would ruin the suite's."

Always the businessman, he argued, "but at the expense of morale and productivity?"

"Not everyone's morale is negatively impacted by the openness." Her omission of addressing his productivity concerns was glaring. "By the way," Beth asked, picking up her cell phone to check the time. "Are you early?"

Beth's car was due to go in for an oil change, tire rotation, and its yearly servicing. Usually, she made the appointment on a Saturday morning, needing to wait rather than leave it and return to pick it up once it was finished. However, Rio and Marcus had protested the idea that they would lose several hours with her. So, instead, Beth had made the appointment for a weekday, allowing the work to be done on her SUV while she was at the office and otherwise occupied anyway, and Rio and Marcus were taxiing her back and forth to the Subaru dealership out in Ferndale. While they had only dropped her off outside of the administration building that morning, they'd elected to pick her up in person.

"Pop wanted to see where you worked.""Well," Beth started, folding her reading glasses and putting them away in their case which then went immediately into her purse. "It's not exactly your Dad's office, is it? It's missing that certain…""Pool table," Marcus suggested cheekily."Yes, that's it precisely," Beth laughed, happy to see them even if she wouldn't be able to put off introductions for much longer."And also maybe some decor that isn't straight outta some old white lady's parlor from 1996."

Standing, Beth shouldered her bag. "You don't mind florals when I wear them," she teased him.

"Yeah, well, those chairs ain't exactly boastin' your same... structure, Sweetheart."

Coming to stand by his side, though they were facing opposite directions - Rio still with his back to the room while Beth could see out into the space, she raised up on her tiptoes so that she could whisper in his ear, "plus, you can't exactly take off a piece of furniture's fabric the way you take off my clothes."

"If you're tryin' to give me ideas for later, don't worry. I already got plenty of 'em." That night, they were going to have their first sleepover with Marcus also at the loft.

Speaking of the eight year old, he pulled Beth's attention away from his father when he asked, "what's this," pointing to the one thing Beth had actually fought to hang on the wall behind her desk. While she had a few pictures of Kensley and even one of Annie, Ruby, Sara, and Harry displayed on top of her large, wide filing cabinet, most of Beth's workspace was void of personal mementos. But nothing and no one was going to prevent her from framing and showing the world… or at least everyone who approached her desk… that she had a college degree.

"That is my diploma. It took me a long time to get it - almost ten years, but it still means the same thing as someone who got it in four.""Means more," Rio argued. Then, addressing Marcus, he said, "because not only was Elizabeth goin' to school, but she was also workin' full time and bein' a full time Mama.""It's not an MBA or a doctorate," which sometimes seemed to be the only degrees that mattered in her office suite, "but I'm still proud of it.""As you should be," Rio told her. There was a weight and a severity to his words that said he was impressed by her. That meant more to her than she could even express. Then he whistled, making her blush. "And, damn, Darlin' - a Bachelor of Science in Finance. Shouldn't you be runnin' this place, though," he asked, gesturing around the executive floor.

And wasn't that the crux of it? Sometimes it did feel like she was running the place… or at least her department, but no one else knew. "When I started here, I only had a high school diploma and about a year's experience running the office at Boland Motors. I was hired in as a clerk. Two years later, there was an opening for my current position. I applied despite just enrolling part time in some general courses and knowing that I'd be going up against other applicants with more experience. But I nailed the interview, and I got the job, and I guess I was so grateful - not just for the opportunity but also that I worked someplace where I could get a free education, where I'd someday be able to send my daughter for a free education - that I… never wanted to rock the boat and ask for - or even demand - more.""There's nothin' wrong with loyalty just as long as you're loyal to yourself first, yeah?" Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Rio reminded her, "your kid's got her degree now, though, Ma. So do you. And you got options."

Before Beth could reply, she felt her coworkers approaching. Apparently, they were finished with being patient. One of them spoke up, "aren't you going to introduce us to your... friend, Beth?"

"Ladies," she did as requested, gesturing back and forth between the parties at hand, "this is Rio. We've been seeing each other now for a couple of months. And this is his son, Marcus," who had settled himself firmly between Beth and his father. Beth wasn't sure who the gesture was meant to reassure and soothe, but she found herself running a hand through Marcus' thick, dark hair.

While eying his neck tattoo, one of the other assistants questioned, "so you're Beth's boyfriend?" At least the question wasn't petty, though it was seeking further clarification.

"Somethin' like that," Rio responded evenly.

He wasn't being noncommittal. They just didn't use that term. Maybe Rio liked to refer to Beth as 'his girl,' but there was nothing boyish about him. Plus, he would be turning 37 soon, and she would be 41 in a couple of months. Perhaps they hadn't been dating long, but the connection, commitment, and chemistry that existed between them meant more than a mere boyfriend/girlfriend label. For as many words as the English language possessed - and the lexicon was always growing, too, there really needed to be something besides the juvenile boyfriend and the creepy lover to describe a non-engaged, non-married romantic partner.

"Also, we have names," another coworker insisted.

She needed to finish the introductions. But it wasn't Beth who responded; Rio did, instead. "Right, right," he placated them. "Sharon, Tammy, and Helen, yeah?" The three women stared back at them with surprise - obviously believing that Beth had shared enough about them with Rio that he would already feel like he knew them. In reality, it was a far more simple and practical explanation. "Your names are on the wall outside the door," Rio said, gesturing towards the hallway outside of the suite.

"Well, you're an observant one," Tammy remarked. Beth had to bite back a smirk, because the other assistants had no idea."Don't worry," Helen told him, "you'll know who we are without the nameplates soon, I'm sure… now that we know that Beth won't be leaving this place anytime in the near future."

Confused, she asked, "what does that mean?"

"Oh, there's been a bet going for years about when you'd finally realize that David's never going to retire - they'll find his bones in there someday," Sharon waved a hand towards Beth's boss's office, "and get sick of waiting for the chance to apply for his job. But now that there's a Rio and a Marcus in the picture, I guess you'll be sticking around for another… oh, say, fifteen years… give or take.""I don't need Elizabeth to stay in a job that undervalues and underutilizes her just to get my son a free ride. Pop can go to school wherever he wants - if he wants - 'cause money ain't no object."

With a genuine smile tugging up the corners of her mouth - because nowhere in Rio's denial did he dismiss the idea that they could very well be still together when Marcus was old enough to think about college, she waved goodbye to her fellow assistants while steering Rio and Marcus around them. "I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night."

Because she certainly would.

!

Beth felt confident and ready for her meeting that afternoon.

A small part of that confidence came from her appearance. God, he would never let her forget it, but Rio had been right about the maternity clothes. She was so much more comfortable in pants, and shirts, and dresses that actually fit her and her growing figure, and that physical comfort then extended into every other aspect of her life, including the professional. But most of her confidence came from the strength of her ideas. Beth was going to absolutely rock her presentation.

Already seated at the table she had prepared with the planned decor for the summer - late June - wedding, Beth waved in her clients when they arrived, gesturing for them to not only join her but to check out the centerpieces and table settings. The bride had chosen a palette of pink, orange, and yellow. Because it was an afternoon wedding, the reception starting in the early evening when the sun would still be, hopefully, shining bright, Beth had elected to embrace the colors and the season rather than necessarily try to manufacture ambiance.

The flowers - peonies, ranunculus, and zinnias - were big and bold blooms, and she wanted to complement them with citrus rather than greenery, using oranges, lemons, and grapefruit as both decor and flavor inspirations. While she didn't have any on display yet, she wanted to use potted lemon trees to decorate the hall on the day of the reception. The table she had set up was long and rectangular rather than round. The meal would be sit down, but Beth wanted to honor the more relaxed nature of summer by arranging the guests in a big u-shape, the wedding party at the open top… like an acute accent. The look would then be completed with mismatched, antique floral china, a profusion of heavy, crystal stemware, and Beth wanted to use gold rather than silver cutlery.

After exchanging greetings and making small talk about the blustery January weather, Beth instructed, "while you try the formal appetizer I'd like to serve - peach and prosciutto flatbread, please, give me your notes on the centerpieces and the other elements of decor." The bride and her mother each took a dainty bite. "I'd also set up grazing stations. I know the name isn't really that appealing, but they're quite popular right now. I wouldn't want to offer any meat or cheeses, though - what with this being a summer wedding. The hall is, of course, air conditioned, but I still don't like the idea of letting such perishables sit out for hours upon hours. Instead, I'd focus the tables on seasonal fruits and vegetables, maybe include a chocolate fountain if that's something you'd be interested in."

"Very much so," Jennifer - that was the bride - nodded along to Beth's suggestion. "And this," she indicated the flatbread, "is delicious."

"Obviously, in June, I'd have access to fresh peaches instead of frozen. It'll still probably be too early for local, but I'll get some amazing organic fruit shipped in from the south or out west."

"That's part of the reason why we went with you," the bride's mother, Miriam, told her. "We liked your focus on organic and in season produce."

Beth smiled at the praise and shrugged self-effacingly, "it just makes the most sense, I think. Plus, it's how I cook for my own family."

"I really like the flowers," Jennifer informed her. "But could we maybe add some roses, too? I know they're traditional, but Jaime's mother is, like, obsessed with them." The bride-to-be rolled her eyes at her future mother-in-law's floral preferences, and Beth found herself wondering what it all meant for the viability of the marriage. It was nice that Jennifer was taking the groom's family into consideration when selecting the details for the wedding, but mocking her soon-to-be mother-in-law didn't seem like a great omen.

But, of course, Beth didn't allow any of that to show on her face. Instead, she just smiled and nodded. "That's an easy change. Anything else about the decor? I'm thinking lemon trees in terracotta pots as well."

"Ooh! Can we string lights in them?"

"We can definitely do that." It wasn't part of Beth's vision for the wedding, but she wasn't the one getting married or paying for it; she was the one getting paid. "I'd suggest waiting until it gets dark, though, to turn them on. With the sun coming in through these big windows, you'll never notice them until night anyway. Plus, we could use that to mark a shift in the festivities - perhaps time it so that the meal portion of the evening is over with, and it's time to start dancing. Thoughts," she tossed it back to the bride and her mom.

"And maybe that could also serve as a deterrent against the DJ setting up and using any garishly colorful or moving lights." Jennifer rolled her eyes at her mother's suggestion, but she didn't argue with her. The two of them had been fighting over a live band or a DJ since they first came in to book the hall back in September. Apparently, Miriam still resented having to give in to her daughter's wishes on that particular aspect of the reception.

"I'll make note of it," Beth simply said diplomatically. "Now, before I go back and bring out your two salad options, let me run through with you again how the menu will work… just as a refresher." After two identical nods of acquiescence, Beth started, "along with the open bar which legally must shut down at 2:00 AM… just like any other establishment serving alcohol, we'll also be serving a signature drink. How do you feel about blood orange mojitos?"

Miriam both smiled and eyed Beth warily. "Mojitos are my favorite. Did she tell you that," she asked, indicating her daughter.

"Mom, quit being so paranoid. Everybody likes mojitos. And it's a summer wedding! Besides I'm sure Mrs. Garza knew better than to suggest frozen margs to you."

"Please, you can call me Beth." It wasn't that she didn't like having Rio's name but rather that she knew brides appreciated the lack of formality… even if some of them also liked the reassurance that she was already taken, especially when their fiances came in with them.

"So, the sit down portion of the meal will start with a salad course. Your guests will have two options to choose from: fresh burrata salad with seasonal tomatoes or crab and mango salad. We can substitute the crab out for any other seafood option you might prefer - lobster, shrimp, your choice. Despite my preference for local, however, I wouldn't suggest going with anything fresh water. Stick with your shellfish."

"Personally, I'd prefer lobster," Miriam spoke up.

"Go with whatever Mom wants. I will be all about the burrata… after nine months of dieting to fit into my wedding dress."

"Well, the sample I made is with crab, but I'm happy to change it to lobster." The mother of the bride nodded in acceptance, and then Beth continued. "Next, we'll see their entree and sides plated together. Everyone will pre-select their options when they RSVP, and we'll assign seats and display names with the place settings, so my servers will have no issue delivering which meals go to whom. There will be three entrees for your guests to choose from: cabernet braised short ribs; chicken piccata with artichoke hearts, lemon, and capers; and vegan vegetable roulade with a basil marinara. Everyone will also select two sides from a list of four options: zucchini, carrots, and summer squash with miso butter; green beans with red and yellow peppers; roasted potato wedges with fresh herbs; and wild mushroom polenta cakes. Each meal will come with a sour cream fan roll, and dessert, as requested by the groom, will be pie."

"How are you thinking of serving the pie," Miriam wanted to know.

"I'd like to do it the same way as the meal. Guests will select which option they want when they RSVP, and my servers will deliver their selections. That way, we can prevent waste." And it would also prevent Beth from having to make enough of every option to feed every one… should, for some reason, all of the guests decide that they wanted the same kind of pie.

"My thought was that we'd give them three options: one citrus, one berry, and one non-fruit." Smiling fondly, Beth revealed, "my stepson has been having a lot of fun helping me work on this particular portion of your menu. He's an ice cream man at heart, but he was willing to eat pie a la mode for dessert this past weekend. We narrowed down my list of ideas to six. Because you've elected not to have a wedding cake which means no cake testing, I'd thought I'd leave this part of the menu more open ended for your selections. You'll be sampling bites of lemon meringue, cherry old fashioned, coconut cream, s'mores, meyer lemon buttermilk with blackberry compote, and strawberry-raspberry. The berries both have a double crust."

"Actually, we'd prefer if you just choose the pies for us as well. I don't eat sugar, and as Jennifer said, she has a very expensive wedding dress to fit into in six months' time."

"Alright then," Beth rolled with the wedding party's wishes. "Then we'll go with the cherry, the s'mores, and the meyer lemon." Standing, she pushed away from the table. "Let me just go grab those salad options."

Before she could even take two steps away, Jennifer screeched, "what is that?!"

Confused, Beth turned back around to the bride and her mother. "I'm sorry?," her left hand automatically finding her seven and half month pregnant belly. Her emerald green, pleated maxi dress with long sleeves, a tie waist, and a deep v-neck must have thoroughly disguised her bump until she stood up.

"I think what my daughter is trying to say is that we didn't realize you were… expecting, Beth," Miriam translated. Then, leaning across the table and lowering her voice, she added, "frankly, I'm surprised you are doing… this… at your age."

Tilting her head to the side, Beth observed her clients. "Just how old do you think I am?"

The mother and daughter exchanged glances. Finally, it was Jennifer who ventured, "mid to late thirties?"

"I'm 41." Miriam gasped, and Beth had to stifle a groan of frustration. If she didn't have such a bad feeling about where their meeting was going now after the reveal of her pregnancy, she might have laughed at the ridiculous society woman. "But I feel fantastic," she shared, hoping to allay their fears. "The baby and I are perfectly healthy, and I'm due in late February, so this will not impact your wedding at all."

"You cannot guarantee that," Miriam argued.

"Even with a twelve week maternity leave, I'll be back to work by mid-May."

"But what if, after you have the baby, you decide that you don't want to work anymore. Or what if you have complications. Or what if…"

Interrupting the mother of the bride, Beth snapped, "I could decide to quit or face some kind of health scare with or without being pregnant. But I'm not just some caterer and party planner. I co-own this business with my husband, and we," she waved her hand back and forth between them, "signed a contract. That does guarantee that you will get exactly the wedding you want."

Jennifer looked at her mom. "I… I can't do this."

Miriam nodded once in agreement and then stood. "I'm sorry, you may be willing to risk your life in order to have another child, but I won't allow you to risk my daughter's wedding being anything less than what she has always dreamt it would be."

Beth wasn't sure if she was more frustrated or more angry. She leaned into her ire. "Just as I appreciate your concern for my well being, I also appreciate your business. Because whether you have your reception here or not, that same contract that would have protected you also protects me, and you will not be getting back your deposit. You're breaking our deal, not me." And she and Rio would have no problem booking the hall with some other client, probably another bride, for a Saturday afternoon and evening in June.

"Yes, well," Miriam huffed in agitation while she redressed for the winter weather outside. "You didn't exactly enter into that deal in good faith now, did you?"

"I was under absolutely no obligation to disclose my pregnancy to you."

"What about just common decency," Jennifer spat on the verge of tears.

"You two," Beth looked between the mother and daughter pair, "really want to go there?"

The fact that Miriam didn't threaten legal action told Beth that, despite her claims to the contrary, the older woman knew that she and her daughter, at least by the terms of their contract, were in the wrong. Beth was under no illusions that Miriam also believed her actions to be in bad taste and rude, though they were.

Once Jennifer and her mother left, Beth locked the door behind them. She left the lights on, however, because she would need to take down the table mockup, using the flowers to make arrangements for the loft and maybe even one for Annie and Ruby, too. After all, there was no sense in letting fresh flowers go to waste, especially ones so beautiful. And expensive. Thankfully, she'd only purchased a few random place settings from the local antique shops and fairs, and Beth would be able to store them away for another wedding someday, so she wasn't out much money there either. As for the food? Well, she and Rio wouldn't need to cook dinner that night.

Speaking of Rio, she needed to tell him about her disaster of a meeting. He wasn't working in his office, though. Instead, he was upstairs, continuing to look for a new house. The search was pretty much his sole preoccupation at that point. He was determined that he was going to find them not just something but the house… and in time, too.

As soon as Beth opened the loft's door, she called out, "your kid is costing us money."

But, at the same time, Rio yelled, "hey, Baby, come 'er. I think I found it." As she moved further into the apartment, she saw him sitting on the Eames lounge, his laptop open on the ottoman in front of him. "Sit," he patted his lap.

"That's a $7,500 chair. I am not breaking it."

Although Rio argued, "what's the point in having it, though, if we don't enjoy it," he stood up, grabbed his laptop, and climbed on top of their bed instead. Once he had crawled over to his side, he waited for her to join him, the both of them sitting up against the headboard. Now, what are you blamin' on the cantaloupe?"

"I was just meeting with some clients downstairs."

"Yeah, I know. The pie people. I hope that bitch chose coconut cream, 'cause otherwise her husband's gonna stain her dress when he smashes pie in her face."

"They were just going to let me select the flavors," Beth emphasized the past tense, "but when I stood up to go to the kitchen to grab the salad options, they flipped out when they saw my baby belly."

"They bounced," he surmised.

Beth nodded. "We should probably check the hardwood floors for skid marks they left in such a hurry."

"That wedding wasn't until June, right? What'd they get so twisted up about?"

"They were worried that I'd change my mind about going back to work after the baby was born or that there would be complications," Beth answered, sighing in annoyance.

"Fuck that shit," Rio swore. "We don't need 'em. That's a Saturday in June. Last minute like this, we'll have ourselves a damn biddin' war over that date. Plus, we keep their deposit, so that's even more profit."

Smirking, she told him, "that's what I said."

"So, see, our kid is actually makin' us money already, Mami." Given that they had practically talked over top of each other, Beth wasn't sure if he had even heard her remark when she entered the loft.

"It worked out this time, but, ugh," Beth groaned, hating the words that were about to come out of her mouth, "I think you're right. I need to take a step back from work. I'm not going on maternity leave yet," she warned him, already seeing the pleased gleam in his eye. "But I don't think it's a good idea for me to continue meeting with clients. They take one look at my pregnant belly, and they start doubting my abilities to be both a mom and a businesswoman, which then makes me angry. Even if they don't back out of our deal, I'm still agitated, and that's good for no one."

"So, whatchu thinkin', Elizabeth?"

When they started making plans for the expanded event business, Rio had suggested that, at least for the duration of her pregnancy and maternity leave, Beth should hire an assistant. She'd been reluctant at first. Having just added the design and catering elements, it didn't seem like a good idea to take on further cost in the form of an employee. But while Beth could pick flowers, decorate, set a table, and cook like no one else, she needed to outsource all of her graphic design. In placing an order for invitations to a twenty-fifth wedding anniversary party, she met Lucy, and everything just sort of… fell into place.

"I'm still going to draft all of the menus and make all of the decor decisions, but I'll see if Lucy wants to pick up some additional hours between now and when she goes full time after I deliver. If she says yes, then she can handle my pitches for me."

"And how's that any different than what we agreed on for your maternity leave?"

"I'll still be cooking for now as well."

If Rio had his way, Beth would already have handed over all of her business responsibilities, and he'd wanted to suspend all catering jobs until after she was back at work following the birth of their child. "You know, I'm not opposed to tyin' you down if it means you'll finally start takin' it easy."

Rolling onto her side and scooting further down on the mattress, Beth teased, "we both know I wouldn't be the only thing that was easy if you did that, and you'd never leave this bed either."

Rio mimicked her movements. With their hands tucked underneath their faces, they were just inches apart. "You heard your doc. I'm supposed to be givin' you as many happies as you can take."

Rolling her eyes because they both knew that wasn't what her OB-GYN meant - well, not initially, at least, Beth changed the subject, "you said you found something?"

"Hmm," Rio hummed. But instead of handing her the laptop so she could look at the listing that was clearly displayed, he closed the computer and twisted around to place it on his nightstand.

"Change your mind?"

"About what I wanna do right now? Yeah," Rio murmured, reaching for her. With just an index finger, he loosened and pushed aside the neck of her dress, further exposing her chest and the bra she wore underneath, and then he guided the cups of her lingerie down enough to reveal her dusty pink, engorged nipples, sighing at the sight of them.

"I meant about the house," Beth found the presence of mind to clarify.

"Nah, it'll wait," he insisted. "You, Mami, won't."

Looking from her chest, which he initiated, and then back at him, Beth contended, "I am perfectly capable of not having sex right now."

Rather than respond right away, Rio slipped his unoccupied hand down to her hip where he slowly and sensually drug the fabric of her dress up against her legs. Once it was high enough that he could slip his touch underneath, Rio's fingers immediately targeted her center, bypassing the flimsy barrier of her thong, and taking a generous swipe. When he pulled his hand back up so that they could both look at the shiny, honeyed moisture already gathered there, Beth moaned a little when Rio licked the digits clean. Then he asked her, "you sure about that, Baby?"

Grabbing the back of his neck, she brought his mouth to her own, panting into the deep, heady kiss that she started and chasing after the taste of herself on his tongue. As she intended, that was all the admission of want that Rio needed.

He undressed her first, reverently unwrapping Beth from her dress. Once it was off her shoulders and arms and pooled beneath her on the bed, Rio rolled her even further onto her side so that he could remove it and gently set it aside. It was ridiculous, but his care turned her on just that much more. He then delicately removed her bra, easing her swollen breasts out of their support and then supporting them in his hands while they adjusted to hanging heavy and loose once again. The last thing he took off of her was her thong, taking hold of it by both sides of the thin, cotton band and then moving it down, down, down until it cleared her toes and disappeared somewhere behind him.

Much to Beth's dismay - she was naked and bare, goosebumps breaking out against her skin while she held a hand out towards Rio, beckoning him to drape himself over and around her, warming her from the outside while stoking the fire within at the same time, he stood from their bed and started to strip. Although there was nothing intentionally flirtatious or seductive about his movements, it was Rio, and it seemed like everything he did turned Beth on, made her want him.

With every button released, with every inch of skin uncovered, she felt herself growing wetter, her breathing becoming more shallow. She parted her legs so that he could see, trailed her fingers down to play between them while she waited, and Rio watched her intently the entire time he undressed - so much so, in fact, that she observed him grow completely, painfully hard while standing there. By the time he finally crawled back onto the bed with her, his cock was bobbing - like it was sentient and seeking her out as well.

Mirroring her position, Rio once more laid down on his side. He snaked both of his arms around her - the one underneath his body moving underneath her as well, grasping her by the back of the neck and curling into her hair, while the one free on top, his left, grabbed a pillow, placed it below her bump, and then banded around her waist to tug her closer. His legs immediately parted, and he slotted Beth's between them. He kept her left leg straight but wound her right up against his hip, the hand at her waist dropping to palm her ass.

From the moment he first touched her, Beth stopped petting her clit and dipping first just one, then two, and then three of her fingers inside of herself for a shallow swirl before pulling them back out and repeating the pattern. Instead, she parted her labia and held herself open, ready and waiting for him. Only once Rio had them arranged exactly how he had in mind did he glide inside of her, stilling once he was fully sheathed within her silken, pulsing walls. The position didn't allow him to go as deep, and it gave her just as much control over their thrusts, but it was intimate. Most of the ways that they could still have sex this far into her pregnancy didn't allow them to be face to face, to touch and explore each other so much. Once she had that closeness again, Beth realized she had missed it.

Taking the fingers that had just been inside of her, Beth trailed them up Rio's body, painting her arousal against the skin of his hips bones, his belly button, his nipples, the tattoo spread proudly over his neck. Her other hand she settled on his chest, wanting to feel his heart beating while he loved her. Without needing to say a word, they joined their mouths together… and then refused to let go, their eyes open and gazing into each other's the entire time they kissed, the entire time Rio leisurely, tenderly, erotically fucked into her.

They purposefully held off their orgasms for as long as they could. By the point when Beth couldn't help but splinter apart in Rio's arms - only for the cum of his own release to seemingly glue her back together again, their bodies were slick with sweat, flesh both sliding and sticking depending upon where they touched. Her orgasm was as drawn out as the sex itself - perhaps not as blindingly hot or intense, but it was a slow burn that lasted, curling her toes deliciously against the back of Rio's calf and the down comforter beneath them, making her breath snag and catch in her throat, and causing her to shake slightly in his arms. When she came down enough from the high of her release, Beth felt almost dizzy from the pleasure.

They were dozing off - still on top of the covers and exposed to the heated but somehow still crisp air of the loft - when Beth remembered that her trip upstairs was supposed to be a short one. She had meant to just tell Rio about the broken contract and then return to the hall to put it to rights. But he had other ideas, ideas that she was obviously and always intrigued by, and now here they were, and the afternoon had somehow slipped into evening. "I need to go clean up," Beth whispered to him, attempting to pull away but knowing that she would go nowhere until Rio released her.

Without opening his eyes, he asked, "bath or shower, Sweetheart?"

She laughed. "I meant downstairs."

Taking her by surprise, he rolled to his back, took her with him, and then somehow managed to sit up so that she was in his lap before swinging his legs over to the side of the bed, pushing himself into a standing position, and carrying Beth in his arms all in one fluid, seamless movement. Realistically, she knew that what he had just done was more complicated than that, but her blissed out brain couldn't fathom how. So, she just allowed herself to be impressed, to enjoy it, and to enjoy her arousal as it started to pool anew, excited that, even seven and half months into her pregnancy, he could still somehow make her feel delicate. "Bath it is, then," Rio decided, stalking off towards the bathroom.

!

As Beth stepped onto the scale that afternoon, she found herself remarking, "you know, I'm surprised you don't do this part after you take your patients' blood pressure. I'm sure the anxiety of seeing how much weight expectant mothers have gained cannot be good for their stress levels."

"Okay, devil's advocate," Dr. Smythe offered as she moved the bars across the numbers. "You're a mother who has struggled to gain enough weight to support your growing baby, and you're nervous that you're going to be underweight again. I take your blood pressure before I weigh you, making you wait just that much longer to see if you're any healthier this week than you were last. There are potential drawbacks either way." Although the physician had a point, Beth would wager that there were more women that fit her scenario than there were who fit the OB-GYN's. "Besides, you have nothing to worry about either way."

"But that doesn't mean you need to announce my weight every time," Beth grumbled. "You can see what it is. I can see what it is. Why can't that be enough?" She had crossed the twenty pound threshold on their previous visit. Even with the memory of Rio practically deadlifting her fresh in Beth's mind, she had reached the point where she didn't particularly want her weight shouted from the rooftops.

Or stated so directly in front of her husband like he wasn't rocking an adonis belt.

"What if I wanna know, too?"

Turning around to look at him over her shoulder, Beth lifted a brow in challenge. "I think you have a pretty good idea already." Rio smirked, obviously understanding exactly what she was referring to.

"Nope. My motto is 'say it loud, say it proud.'"

"That expression is not referring to my weight," Beth snapped.

She went ignored. "You're right at 182, Beth - the perfect weight for you," Dr. Smythe stressed.

Stepping down from the scale, Beth just rolled her eyes in response. As she took a seat on the exam table so that the OB-GYN could wrap the blood pressure cuff around her upper arm, Rio came to her side, took her free hand in between both of his. "I don't know why you buggin', Mama. It's all tits, ass, and baby."

She pulled away from him and pointed an accusatory finger at his smirking face. "That's not the complement you seem to think it is, nor is it a good thing!"

"How you figure that?"

"My breasts and my butt were plenty big before. They didn't need to get any bigger."

"I beg to differ," Rio said, folding his arms over his chest in a challenging manner.

"And I'm only 34 weeks, Rio! If even a third of that weight gain is the baby, that means our son or daughter already weighs more than seven pounds, and babies gain most of their weight during the next six weeks. I am not delivering a twelve pound baby!"

"You're both being ridiculous," Dr. Smythe chastised them, "especially for two people who have already had children… even if not together." As she squeezed the small hand pump, she continued, "you'll gain eight pounds alone in added blood volume and increased fluids. There are two extra pounds of uterus tissue, your placenta weighs a pound and a half, and there are two pounds of amniotic fluid. Right there is almost fourteen pounds. Your weight gain is on track." The physician released the pressure on the cuff, making note of its reading. "And so, too, is your blood pressure. Now, lay back," she instructed Beth, "and we'll get the two of you out of here to go and flirt in the privacy of your own home."

"Yeah, we don't like to limit ourselves to just the loft."

"Rio!," Beth exclaimed, mortified. Her face immediately suffused with heat and color.

"Noted," Dr. Smythe grinned mischievously. "I'll want to stay clear of the parking garage for at least twenty… no, make that thirty?... minutes after the end of your appointments."

Beth was quick to deny, "we've never done that… here."

But then Rio had to go and add, "yet."

She was still glaring at him when Dr. Smythe finished measuring her belly and moved on to set up the doppler. "Are you two still listening to the heartbeat every day?"

"You kiddin'," Rio asked rhetorically. "I'm pretty sure we're gonna need to buy Pops a stethoscope for his birthday. The obsession's real, and it ain't goin' anywhere anytime soon."

"Perhaps you have a future space pediatric cardiologist on your hands," the physician suggested.

As soon as the womp, womp, womp began to fill the room, though, Beth's phone started ringing. "I'm so sorry," she apologized, holding her hands out to Rio for her purse. Because it was tucked in the designated side pocket, it didn't take her long to pull it out. "Let me just silence… it's Kensley," she almost yelled - so astonished by seeing her daughter's name displayed on the screen. She tried to sit up quickly, but she only got to about 45 degrees before her belly made her start to fall back down. Rio and Dr. Smythe both were immediately there to help her, easing her up into a seated position once more. Uncaring of the gel on her stomach, Beth pushed her shirt down to cover her bared skin, accepting the call and lifting it to her ear.

"Kensley, hi! I'm so glad you called," Beth rushed to tell her daughter - at least wanting to have said that much before potentially alienating her once again. "But I'm actually at my check-up right…"

"Mom," Kensley interrupted desperately. The noise that then followed was somewhere frighteningly between a groan and a whimper.

Beth waved her arm for Rio, and he seemed to understand what she wanted, because he helped her to climb off of the table and stand up. "What's going on? What's wrong?"

"I think… I think I'm in labor?"

"But you're only thirty weeks," Beth argued. Instinctively, she pulled her phone down to put it on speaker.

"I'm having contractions," Kensley insisted.

"Kensley, this is Dr. Smythe, your Mom's OB-GYN. Do you know what Braxton Hicks contractions are? Could you just be having those?" While talking to Beth's daughter, Dr. Smythe moved over to her desk and picked up her office phone.

"No. I've had those before. These feel different. They are different," Kensley insisted.

"Did your water break," the physician demanded.

"No."

"That's good, Kensley. That's really good," Dr. Smythe told her. "That means we can still stop your labor. I'm calling Dr. Park now. I'm going to tell her everything that you've told me and have her meet you at the hospital. Your Mom can meet you there, too. But you should hang up and call 911, okay?"

"And I'll call Aaron for you," Beth offered.

"I already tried both him and Dad, and neither of them picked up," her daughter cried. In the back of Beth's mind, she realized that meant that Kensley only called her because she was desperate, but in that moment, all that mattered was that her child and her grandchild needed her. "And I don't want strangers seeing me like this, touching me, and I don't want to ride in an ambulance. Can you come and get me, Mom?"

"We can be at your house in fifteen minutes," Rio spoke for the first time. "But I'm with your Moms, Kensley. I'm not leavin' the two of yous to handle this alone just 'cause you don't like me. That gonna be a problem?"

After panting through another contraction, Kensley finally answered, "just hurry," before several beeps sounded, announcing that the call had been ended.

"Go," Dr. Smythe told them, nodding towards the door with her landline tucked between her shoulder and ear. "You and the baby are healthy, Beth. I'll see you in two weeks. I'll have the receptionist schedule your next visit and text you the details." Just as they stepped out into the hallway and started to move quickly towards the exit, the OB-GYN called out, "and good luck!"

Beth had a scary feeling they were going to need it.