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With a grin, he nods. “Might take a while to find some at 9:30, but I’ll do my best.”
“In-N-Out?” I ask hopefully, and he winks at me.
“I’ll break in if I have to.”
“With avocado!” I say with gusto. It wasn’t a food I ever really enjoyed before, but right now? God, avocado sounds good. I need some of the green mushy deliciousness.
But his face falls. “They don’t have that at In-N-Out.” Without trying, my lip starts to quiver. I just wanted a morning burger with avocado, is that too much to ask? “Oh shit, babe. Don’t cry. I’ll go to the grocery store and find some. By then, In-N-Out will be open. Okay? Will that make you happy?” He’s panicking again, because of me again. Fuck, I suck at this.
I force a smile. “If it’s not too much trouble,” I say with a wince.
I can hear giggling behind me and snap around. “What?”
“Just nice that someone else is dealing with this shit for once,” Greg says, his face beaming.
“Oh, fuck off. I’m doing my best here,” I say. But that only makes him laugh harder.
Sam is shaking her head, trying to contain her own laughter. “Honestly, Til, don’t feel bad. Pregnancy is fucking weird.”
Whether I agree with her or not on anything else, I can certainly agree with her on that.
Chapter thirty-six
Tommy
Checking my suit in the mirror, I’m mostly thinking about the brand and the expense, all chosen by Miranda. She insisted everything needed to be perfect for today's meeting with Tia, who has finally agreed to see Tilly but demanded I accompany her for the formal apology. As Tilly enters the room, my gaze inadvertently drifts to her chest. "Tommy…" she chides, though it's hardly my fault given how her blouse accentuates her figure. The low cut makes it impossible not to notice. I'm overcome with a desire to dive in between her boobs, my hands finding their way around her waist, just above her growing belly. I begin to nuzzle her neck and she relaxes against my touch.
Since we arrived back at the Airbnb in San Diego, I've been soaking up my new Tilly-led life. She's a presence, taking charge of everything. There are small changes I've noticed. Back in Costa Rica, she was a messy Bessy. Her home was nearly a place that needed a hazmat suit. Now? She almost seems to enjoy cleaning. I love watching her scrub down the baseboards of the rental, or wipe smudges off the bathroom mirror. But my absolute favorite change is waking up beside her. There’s nothing more beautiful than a grumpy Tilly with messy bed hair and nasty breath begging for ‘just a sip’ of my coffee.
"We don’t need to leave for a half hour," I murmur, my voice dropping. I had wondered how I'd feel about the changes in her body, but seeing her belly grow has become unexpectedly enticing. It feels like a primal declaration that she is mine, although I know well enough that Tilly can’t be owned like that. Not even by me. She proves it daily, both in our bedroom where our sex is as wild as ever, and in general at Sanderson Surf Shack where we are both working for now.
Tilly turns to face me, her belly creating a small gap between us, but her expression is playful, a mischievous grin on her lips. "Is a half hour long enough…" Her words trail off as I kiss her deeply. When she moans into my mouth, my cock roars to life, as if being welcomed to a party specifically for him. I’m already imagining bending her over our new dresser when Miranda's voice from the living room snaps us back to reality. "We really don’t have time for that."
I pull away reluctantly, trying to maintain the moment's intensity, but Tilly is already stepping back. At the doorway, she gives me that look, full of promise and longing, and I'm almost ready to forget everything else. “I can tune her out,” I say. “Better not. She’s wound up tighter than a fat man's bed springs.” She’s absolutely right. Miranda's impatience is something we've both learned not to test. In the two weeks we've been here, it's been with nearly constant interruptions. Mack stops by randomly, drinking exactly one Coke, then leaves. Or Sam comes over with a new movie we watch together. Even my Ma came back last weekend claiming she wanted to see the cove with all the sea lions.
But we know the truth. They're keeping us surrounded, just in case. The only bummer part is that with Tilly's sister living with us, our moments of intimacy are rarer than I'd like. Tilly’s in a phase of pregnancy where her hormones are going wild. I don’t like being crass. Yeah, okay that’s a lie. Being crass is usually hilarious. But Tilly is horny. All the time. And I’m reaping the benefits like a hound dog.
I’m split between thrilled and annoyed that Miranda is always around. Thrilled because let’s face it, I’ve learned to love that fiery little mirror of my girlfriend. They’ve been inseparable and I’m glad they’re growing close. Annoyed because, let’s be honest, I want to fuck Tilly on every surface of our new home. Christen it if you will. I'm left wondering when we'll finally have a moment to ourselves without the constant interruptions. Miranda has a knack for intruding at the most inopportune times.
Following Tilly into the living room, I can't help but shoot Miranda a frustrated look. "You know you're a major cock block, right?" Miranda's glare is sharp in return. "That's my sister. Don't be nasty."
Tilly, grabbing a coconut water from the fridge, chimes in, "He’s right, Andy."
Miranda scoffs, clearly unamused. "Like I enjoy coming home from work to find his bare ass over you on my couch."
I cross my arms, having grown comfortable enough with Miranda over the past six months to be straightforward with her. "Andy, I love having you here, but we need some sexual freedom." Tilly nearly chokes on her drink, coughing a few times, and both she and Miranda scold me simultaneously, "Tommy!" I just laugh, shrugging it off. I've always found it endearing when Tilly and her sister give me that same look of exasperation. It’s not in any weird way; their similarities are just adorable to me.
Suddenly curious, I ask, "Til, do twins run in your family?"
She nods. "Yeah, Keaton's a twin too. His brother Kerry is in the Army."
"So, how do we know little man isn’t actually little men?" I question, half-joking.
She shakes her head. "I guess I don't."
"When is your doctor's appointment?" I recall from one of the books she should be going every month, but realize she hasn't been to a doctor since we got back to San Diego.
"I uh, haven't made one." Both Miranda and I are staring at her blankly now. "Well!" she scoffs then gestures around the house. "It's just been so crazy, and I've felt fine, so I kind of forgot."
