Some people run or read to pass the time. Nya cleans. Momma cooks. The sky is blue. The grass is green. “So… we’ve uh—We’ve got some news to share with you guys.”
“Oh yeah?” Dad looks from me to Nya, who’s just followed my mother into the house, and his face splits into a huge grin. He raises his voice. “Got something to do with that long-lost daughter of mine your Momma’s hogging over there by the door?”
Blushing, my wife untangles herself from my mother’s embrace, rushing over to greet the old man.
“Roger!” Nya hugs my father tight around the neck. “You look great.”
“So do you, Sugar. Been too damn long since you’ve shown your pretty face ’round these parts. Shame on you for making us old folks miss you like that. Whatever happens with this bozo right here…” The back of his hand thumps my chest. “You’re a part of this family, and we’d like to see you more than once a decade.”
Nya’s face turns beet red. “Sorry… you know with everythi—”
“Can I be the one to tell them?” Nya usually corrects our daughter when she talks over adults, but this is one time I can tell she’s is grateful for the interruption. Ellie’s so excited she’s literally bouncing. Hopefully that excitement is catching, because her momma is not looking too pleased with me at the moment.
“Go ’head.” I move to the couch, giving her the floor.
“Grammy,” she says, looking first to my mother before turning toward my father. “Pops…” If I could bottle the look of pure joy on that little girl’s face and sell it… “I wished for my mom and dad to get married for my birthday, and they did it. My wish came true!”
“We eloped,” I rush out when Momma recoils as if someone’s just kicked her in the stomach.
Things are not quite going according to plan. Where are all the squeals and congratulations? Hell, Nya’s family threw us a fucking parade!
“Again?” she huffs. Her disappointment is evident in the furrow of her brow and the tightness in her face. “I mean…couldn’t y’all at least let us plan a proper wedding this time?”
“It was all her fault.” Yep, I’m throwing Nya right under the bus. Hey, she’s got to learn to be a team player. They like her more than me, and marriage is about sacrifice. “The entire thing was her idea.”
My bride’s mouth falls open. “It was a very rash decision on my part, I assure you. I am still not certain what I was thinking.” Her evil glare has now morphed into laser beams.
“Well then,” Dad starts, trying to douse the flames before the shit really hits the fan. “I think it’s way past all of our bedtimes. Let’s get some shut-eye and pick this back up in the morning when we’re all a little less… grouchy.”
With a little prodding on Dad’s part, Momma finally agrees, but I feel the shade she’s throwing as she wraps an arm around Ellie’s shoulder and heads off to tuck her into bed, grumbling all the way. I grab up our suitcase and head off behind them.
Nya whirls on me the minute the door to my childhood bedroom slams shut behind us. “How could you?” she hisses.
“Baby… I’m sorry. I thought… Well, I wasn’t expecting fireworks, but I definitely didn’t expect that.”
She thrusts her suitcase up onto the bed and throws it open, sifting through the individually packed baggies until she finds the one with the correct date on it, all the while muttering a bunch of indecipherable nonsense to herself. She’s so distracted she must’ve forgotten that I’m standing here, because, piece by piece, her clothing is stripped away. One black knee-length boot hits the floor, then the other. Even in her fit of anger, she takes the time to pick them up and position them neatly against the wall.
I bite my lip to keep from groaning as I watch the woman, the star of my every wet dream, unbutton, unzip, then shimmy her way out of the form-fitting dark gray skinny jeans. Unable to move for fear she might stop, I stand stupefied as she grips the hem of her black sweater and lifts it over her head, leaving her before me in nothing but a black lace bra and matching thong. Hot dayum. The ass on this woman is a work of art. When she reaches around to her back to unfasten the slip of fabric covering her breasts, I draw in a loud breath,