Sweet Talk

Fiona

Over the gentle sea breeze off the Gulf, I heard Cynic speak. “Pay close attention, Luke. This is how the women getcha. They sweet talk you into doing things you don’t want to do.”

I glanced over the rim of my sunglasses at my husband.

The only thing he wore was a pair of board shorts, and his damp hair hung loose along his shoulders. I had a tough time not staring at his fantastic tattoos on his bare chest. The real struggle was to not swoon over the sight of him holding our eight-month-old baby boy while standing under the E-Z Up. They had the same big, brown eyes. Even after eight months, I couldn’t get enough.

From her beach chair next to mine, Lisa said, “Don’t act like this is some kind of hardship, Ryan. Little Luke loves it at the beach just like his Auntie Lisa.”

“He doesn’t need a sunburn at his age,” Cynic said.

Lisa shook her head. “I wasn’t going to let him get sun burned. He was in my lap for all of two minutes before you snatched him away.”

I clenched my teeth to keep from laughing. Normally, their sibling arguments bothered me, but when they were bickering over taking care of my little boy, I found it entertaining.

“She’s right, you know,” Jeremy, Cynic’s younger brother, said.

“Who asked you, Jeremy?”

“Nobody, but you should let him play in the sand with Ona. She’s in the shade.”

Jeremy and his wife Lily had come for a visit to Biloxi when they heard Lisa was coming down for the weekend. Though, really, Lisa came to bring us a toddler-bed that would later convert to a big-boy bed for Luke. She’d crafted it herself from gorgeous oak wood and stained it a glossy, golden-brown.

I twisted my neck to see Ona – or little Fiona – shoving her tiny hands into the sand. At eighteen-months, she had everyone wrapped around her little finger.

“What do you think Luke? You want to play with your cousin?” Cynic asked.

I unfolded from my lounger and sidled up to my men. “Set him down to play. He’s not shy about letting us know what bothers him.”

My man’s expressive eyes locked with mine for a long moment before he looked at our boy. “You hear that? Sweet talk… and I’m a sucker for it.”

I tilted my head. “Don’t tell him fibs. You know if it were a problem, you’d put your foot down no matter what I had to say… and that’s not sweet talk from me.” I leaned up on my toes to whisper in his ear. “And you know it.”

Before I lowered down, Cynic turned and kissed me, giving me a brief tongue touch. The feel of his goatee against my lips felt delicious.

“Fine. But you get bath duty if he gets sand in his swim diaper,” he said.

I laughed. “Done, since you love bath time so much I hardly ever get to give him one!”

To say my man was cut out to be a dad, was like saying ketchup was made for french fries. He adored Luke in a way I never thought possible, but then, that was parenthood for you. I loved watching them spend time together.

Cynic straightened from putting Luke down, and his eyes narrowed on me. “Did you eat anything yet? Everyone else has plates. What gives, woman?”

I gave him a half-hearted smile. “I’ve been grazing.”

“Yeah, you cooked enough pancakes and sausage this morning, you’d think we weren’t going to eat again until tomorrow,” Lisa said.

Cynic glowered at his sister. “Listen, squirt, you cook for seven adults, and we’ll see how you do. I don’t let people go hungry at my house.”

Lisa moseyed under the E-Z Up and snatched a tortilla chip out of the open bag. “I’m just saying, I haven’t eaten lunch yet either and I might just skip it since I still feel full.”

Skipping lunch sounded like a great plan, but that might tip Cynic off. I wouldn’t be able to keep this secret from him much longer. But I didn’t want to announce it in front of his siblings either.

Lily leaned forward and picked up Luke. “No, sweetie. We don’t eat the sand.”

Cynic aimed wide eyes at me. “See.”

Lily shook her head. “He won’t learn if he doesn’t get in the sand to play, Cynic.” She looked between us. “Why don’t you two go swim. I’ve got him, and if little Fiona gets fussy, Jeremy can take care of her.”

In the past year, Lily and Jeremy had started seeing a new marriage counselor and now had their relationship on a better track.

Even though she’d only be watching Luke for a few minutes, I still felt like it was an imposition.

Lily sensed my hesitation. “Seriously. It’s no biggie. You’re only going to be a hundred yards away. Go have fun.”

“Yeah,” Lisa said, swallowing a chip. “I can help her if she needs it.”

Cynic dipped his chin at me. “You ready?”

“Sure.”

Next thing I knew, he crouched down, put his shoulder to my belly, hefted me up, and ran down to the water.

“Cynic! Put me down, you crazy man!”

After a few more strides, he set me down in waist-deep water. “Spill, princess.”

“What do you mean? There’s nothing to spill, now that you put me down.”

He shook his head. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

I put a hand on my hip. “It isn’t.”

He stalked closer to me, quickly guiding us into chest-deep water. His hands came to my hips, and he slid them around to my ass before he pulled me closer. “You are so full of it. Gonna make out with you a little. That’ll give you time to come clean, woman.”

My reproachful look was cut short by him taking my mouth. He tasted faintly of peanut butter, and I pulled away. For some bizarre reason, peanut butter turned me off when I was pregnant with Luke.

He aimed a knowing grin at me. “Are you pregnant?”

This was not how I wanted to share this.

I stared at him. “You know, some women develop a distaste for something, and it sticks even after pregnancy.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, but after Luke came into the world, you made a big deal about how relieved you were that peanut butter was fair game again.” He squeezed my ass. “I just had a peanut butter cookie, and you pulled away from my kiss. Are you givin’ me another baby?”

My head tilted. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.”

He threw his head back with laughter.

My heart warmed because I loved making him laugh like that.

He kissed my forehead. “Hate to break it to you, but I already suspected since this morning you skipped your coffee. Only time I recall you doing that was when you were pregnant.”

My eyes slid to the shoreline and back to him. “It’s official. I’m petitioning the brothers to change your road name to ‘Servant.’”

He leveled a sober look at me. “Come again.”

I grinned. “Yeah. Servant – short for Observant since you pay way too much attention to a pregnant woman.”

His body shook with laughter even if I couldn’t hear him laughing. “Fiona… I don’t pay attention to a pregnant woman. I pay attention to my pregnant woman because you’re my world. Having our baby makes our world that much richer and brighter.”

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. “Oh my God! Now, I’m gonna cry. You’re too sweet, ‘Nic.”

“Yeah, keep that shit to yourself or the brothers will change my name. Now, time to make out with me.”

He kissed me slow and sweet, then trailed his lips along my jaw to my ear. “Wish my family wasn’t around,” he murmured.

I chuckled. “No, you don’t. There’d be nobody to watch Luke.”

He nuzzled my neck. “Yeah, but I really wanna take you home and make love to you, but my sister drove here just to see the Gulf.”

I kissed his lips. “You’re such a fibber. Telling our boy that it’s sweet talk that got you here. When really, you’d do anything for the women in your life.”

He rested his forehead on mine. “Whatever, Fi. Very few people aren’t happy at the beach. Are we waiting to tell them?”

I wobbled my head. “I suppose that would be good. Your parents will be pissed if your brother and sister find out before them.”

***

Cynic

Eight months later…

With a clap on his shoulder, Cal, the Sergeant-at-Arms for the Jacksonville chapter, asked, “You got any idea what the hell you’re in for now?”

“Did Blood put you up to asking me that?”

Cal laughed. “Blood doesn’t ask me to do his dirty work.”

Cynic chuckled. “That’s true. I got a daughter now. Not sure why you’re acting like it’s that much different than having a boy.”

“You got a younger sister, I’d think you’d get it, but having met Lisa… I can’t imagine you or anyone ever shielding her.”

“Are you trying to insult my sister and me both? And you know damn well I shielded her from plenty.”

Cal’s hazel eyes twinkled as he nodded. “Fair. But that little girl your wife’s holding… she’s gonna change your world in ways you’ll never see coming.”

Cynic nodded. “All in good ways.”

Cal twisted his hands up and grimaced. “Mostly, yeah. Thought I was protective of Mallory, but… Alexandra took that up to a whole other level.”

Cynic couldn’t tear his eyes from Fiona holding their two-day-old daughter. Yeah, he loved Luke, but he felt a different version of protectiveness for his little girl.

“Did you decide on a name? Or are you gonna have to submit a bunch of paperwork after you leave?” Cal asked.

Fiona turned her head toward them. “No, we named her Aria Lily.”

Cal smiled at Fiona. “Surprised you didn’t name her Abigail.”

Fiona chuckled. “I thought about it, but it’s not easy being named after someone. This way my girl will be free to be herself.”

Cal leaned toward Fiona. “Did you tell Abby that?”

Fiona dipped her chin. “Actually, those were Abby’s words to me.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” Cynic muttered.

The exhaustion was painted on Fiona’s face. “Sorry. It must have slipped my mind. The last month of this pregnancy wasn’t easy.”

“Which is why we’re done,” Cynic declared.

Cal chuckled. “I’m gonna go. Let you get some rest if you can. Didn’t want to leave town without saying Congrats, though.”

“Thanks, brother,” Cynic said. “I’d walk you downstairs, but I’m thinking you’re good. I’ll see you soon.”

Cal flicked two fingers out in good bye, and left.

Fiona’s baby blue eyes locked with his. “If you wanted a third child, Ryan—”

“No, baby. We saved the best for last. Technically you might be young enough to have another, but I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you.”

She grabbed his hand and squeezed. “I love you so much, Cynic. I have to be the luckiest woman in the world.”

“We’re both lucky, baby.” He paused. “But really, I don’t think it’s luck. We were meant for each other, even if it took years for us to get here. I can’t wait for them to discharge us, so I can take my girls home.”

THE END