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Mandy: Remember you gotta put your oxygen mask on first, Mama. Sending you hugs.
My full boobs won’t allow me time to lounge at the spa’s ridiculous indoor Jacuzzi, so I head home.
Standing at the front door, I take a breath.
I can do this. I can feel joyful when I see her.
Will this always be so hard? Will weaning her or something help me finally fall in love with motherhood?
I don’t know. One thing I do know? This is just my new normal. There truly are no real breaks from your baby when you’re nursing her around the clock.
You chose this single parent gig, Annabel. How can you complain?
The rush to get away and the rush to get back are real. But they’re my choice.
Today, though, I was gifted some time away. And I can see I have a smidge more patience with Maisie. A smile comes more naturally as I pick her up and cuddle her to my chest.
I’m here, sweet girl.
I can already see that having time to myself, away from the baby, has benefits. It’s an absolute privilege to be able to take that time even though it shouldn’t be. But if I can take it, I’m realizing that I should.
I need to. For Maisie’s sake. And for mine.
Beau shows up right on time. Glancing out the window, I try not to read too much into the way he’s dressed: nice jeans, nice shirt, no hat. His hair is neatly parted and still a little wet from the shower.
Which means he’s going to smell delicious.
My heart is pounding inside my chest, and my skin is already tingling. I normally feel so relaxed around Beau, but now I know what his mouth tastes like. I know how big his dick is.
That kinda changes everything, doesn’t it?
“You look great,” Mom says as I hand over Maisie.
I pluck uncomfortably at the front of my shirt. “Thanks. Nothing’s hanging out or leaking, is it? No stray nipples to report?”
Mom laughs. “Nope.”
If I’m being honest, I did dress up for a date.
Well, I did my best with what I brought with me, anyway. Jeans that are a size too tight and make my stomach hurt when I sit down in them. A black V-neck blouse (bonus points for being easy to nurse in, thanks to the front clasp), and black high-heeled booties. The one pair of statement earrings I brought.
“There’s an extra bottle of breastmilk in the fridge. Just in case she needs it.”
“We’ll be fine. Go have fun.”
I reach out and place my hand over Mom’s. “Thank you. I know I’m leaving you guys two nights in a row—”
“Really, Annabel, it’s fine. Think about it. These are the first nights you’ve been away from the baby in four months. A break is long overdue. See you in a bit.”
My phone pings with a text from Beau as I’m heading out the front door.
Beau: Here.
He looks up from his phone, and our eyes meet across the front yard.
My heart trips to a dead stop inside my chest.
He looks laughably huge in the golf cart with one wrist draped casually over the wheel. No jacket, so I can see just how perfectly his arms and chest and shoulders fill out his shirt.
And his eyes—
They’re soft. Serious.
They’re on me, raking over my features, my body, before locking on my eyes. Makes me feel human again—wholly, embarrassingly, refreshingly human.
Makes me feel alive.
My heart resumes its beating and takes off at a sprint.
The sudden change in pace leaves me breathless.
“Hey,” I manage, running a hand through my hair. I give my jeans a tug as I walk up the gravel path to meet him.
My face feels warm. Warmer when he says, “You look great, Bel.”
“Thanks. Amazing what a shower and a little shampoo can do.” I slide onto the vinyl bench beside him.
He smiles, but it doesn’t touch his eyes. I’m getting the feeling I won’t like what he’s got to say.
It’s not awkward when he leans over to kiss my cheek. The brush of his beard against my skin makes my nipples harden. Not two seconds in, and I’m already getting turned on.
But it is awkward when a beat of silence, and then another and another, stretch between us on the drive to his place.
We both move to break it at the same time.
“How was your—”
“You enjoy the ma—”
We laugh. More awkwardness.
Shit.
“You first,” he says.
I shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest. It’s chilly now that we’re moving. “Nothing. Just asking about your day.”
“Long.” He sighs, running a hand down his beard. My gaze catches on his forearms; they’re bare, the sleeves of his button-up rolled to his elbows. Bare and big. I follow a trail of thick veins to his hands. Those are big, too.
They were on me last night, touching me everywhere I craved to be touched.
