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We pick up Mama with me squeezed in the middle of the bench seat between them, and I desperately hope she can’t tell what we were up to fifteen minutes earlier. Wyatt wouldn’t let me clean up properly or change because we were so late, though I think it was just an excuse so I’d have to walk around with his cum soaking my panties.
Oh god, what if she can smell me? I think with sudden horror.
I fan my flaming face. “Can you roll down a window, please? It’s too hot in here.”
Wyatt smirks at me, then rolls down the windows. When I turn my face toward the passenger side, hoping to catch the breeze, Mama winks at me and pats my knee.
Oh god, oh god, no! She knows.
After that, I can’t make eye contact with her, feeling like I’m going to die from mortification.
We pull up to what looks like a plain gray double-wide trailer on the side of the road with an unpaved gravel and dirt parking lot. There are a handful of vehicles parked in front, and you’d never know it was a diner if you were just passing by. There’s only a narrow white banner above the door with Granny’s printed in faded red lettering and a small, red neon open sign.
Wyatt holds the door open for us, ushering us through it first, and I’m immediately hit by the smell of bacon frying and maple syrup. There is a long silver-top bar in front with chrome barstools occupied by a few older men hunched over their plates and cups of coffee. The floor is red and white checkers, and there are a handful of four-top tables and chairs in the middle. The walls are lined with red upholstered booths and shiny silver tables. It’s the kind of place I’ve only seen in movies, and I’m a little awestruck.
I love it.
A pretty blonde waitress about Wyatt’s age, wearing a pink and white uniform dress and apron, eyes him up and down. “Hey, Wyatt. Good to see you. We sure have missed you here.” She gives him a shy smile, and her eyelashes flutter.
I narrow my eyes, cutting him a sideways look. For a man who claims he doesn’t get much attention from women, he sure is getting a lot of it from this chick as she continues to stare at him and bites her bottom lip. Maybe he just doesn’t notice the way women look at him?
Either way, I’m glad he barely glances at her other than to give her a polite smile and nod in greeting. I’ve never had a boyfriend, so I’ve never had a reason to be jealous before, but it’s coursing through my veins now.
I sidestep closer to him and wrap my arm around his waist, feeling possessive. He drapes an arm over my shoulders, pulling me in closer. He winks and grins at me, so maybe he does notice the way she’s looking at him and is choosing to ignore it.
Well…good.
The waitress’ smile dims a little as she takes in the sight of us, then turns to Mama. “Hi, Mrs. Roberts. It’s good to see you too.” I feel a bit smug that she hasn’t been given permission to call her Mama.
Mama gives her a warm smile. “You too, Faye.” Ugh. Faye. Pretty name for a pretty waitress. Faye finally turns to me, still smiling, though it’s smaller and slightly strained now. “Faye, honey, y’all haven’t met before, but this is Dolly, Wyatt’s fiancée.”
I’m so not his fiancée, but I don’t correct her and instead give Faye a little wave.
“Fiancée?” Her voice cracks, and her smile drops completely. Now, I feel bad for my ugly, smug, and jealous feelings toward her, seeing the hurt that flashes across her face.
“That’s right.” Wyatt rubs his hand up and down my arm, all his attention focused on me, making my belly flutter, and he tells her, “We’d like a booth, please.”
Looking dejected, Faye simply nods and grabs three menus, then directs us to a booth toward the left. With a hand on the small of my back, Wyatt directs me to slide into the booth first, then follows me in, with Mama sitting across from us.
Faye sets down the menus and takes our drink orders, writing them down on a little notepad she pulls from her apron, keeping her eyes downcast. When she does look up, her eyes drift over Wyatt, who still has his arm slung over my shoulders, and then to me. Now I feel really, really bad about my ugly feelings because it’s clear she’s on the verge of tears.
When Faye comes back with our drinks, Wyatt orders for the three of us without even looking at the menu. She quietly walks away after murmuring, “I’ll have that right out.”
It’s not her who comes back with the food, but a younger guy with black hair that artfully falls over his forehead and is probably only a few years older than me. “Here ya go, folks. Enjoy.”
The table is laden with food—stacks and stacks of buttermilk pancakes, chicken and waffles, buttery grits, and steaming plates of eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns. My eyes go wide at the sight of it all.
“Oh my god, we’re never going to be able to eat all this.”
Mama chuckles. “Oh yes, we are, honey. You should have seen how much we had to order when Wyatt’s daddy was still with us. Those boys would eat us out of house and home.” Her brown eyes crinkle at the sides as she grins widely at me. “I’m sure your sons will be the same way.”
I gasp. “Not you, too, Mama. I’ve already told Wyatt I’m not having his giant babies. I refuse.”
Mama and Wyatt laugh harder at that, drawing a few curious glances from the other patrons. He pulls his arm away and shifts to palm my belly. He leans in close, whispering low so Mama can’t hear him. “Begging me to fill your cunt with all my cum doesn’t sound like a refusal to me, babygirl.” My face flames red as I try to avoid making eye contact with her after that.
“Mmhmm, that’s what you say, Dolly. But I see the way y’all look at each other. It’s the same way my William looked at me, though we were only able to get pregnant the one time with Wyatt. Didn’t stop us from trying, if you know what I mean.” She waggles her light eyebrows up and down.
