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We both laugh as we watch Julius protest Nathan’s firm instructions to grab his coat. “But I don’t wanna go!” Julius cries.
“What you want and what you need are two different things. It’s bedtime; let’s go, little man.”
My son is going to make a great dad someday.
“Does this mean we have the house to ourselves tonight?” I ask, looking down at my wife who can’t take her eyes off our babies as Nathan carries them away.
Mariam catches my tone, then turns to give me a heated look. She toys with the top button of my shirt. “Sounds like there won’t be anyone wandering into the kitchen looking for Funyuns. But I am feeling hungry for snacks.”
The memory of our sexy kitchen escapade provokes a growl low in my chest, and I lean down to give my wife a teasing, PG-13 kiss in the middle of the chaos around us.
“What kind of snacks?” I ask.
She fists my shirt to pull me in close so she can speak in my ear. “Nutella … on a banana.”
“Babe, we’re all out of ban … oh.”
Mariam giggles, then I feel her teeth scrape across the scruff of my chin.
My cock twitching, I grab Mariam’s hand and begin leading the way out of the bar, weaving through the crowd.
Just then, I notice Nathan talking to a short young woman nervously holding a reporter’s notebook.
“I’m so sorry to bother you, Nathan…” I hear her say as we pass by. “But I wonder if I could ask you for a comment on the election results for the Darling Creek Daily?”
Mariam stops short to listen, tugging back at my hand. I grunt, but then begrudgingly join her in eavesdropping.
The woman bites her lip as she watches Nathan hold the sleepy Shiloh against his chest, gently rocking back and forth like a pro. Mariam nudges my rib. I know my wife is seeing what I’m seeing.
“Sure, but I gotta make it quick.”
The newspaper woman smiles sweetly up at Nathan. “I understand.”
“Okay, here’s a quote for your article. Even though I only got 47 votes, I had a really fuckin’ nice time knocking on doors and meeting new people.”
The reporter laughs. “Good enough, I can cut out the cuss words.”
I groan, and Mariam stifles a cackle by burying her face against my chest.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, these kids have to get to bed.”
Mariam hisses instructions from the sidelines, “Ask for her number!”
I shush my wife, who nudges my ribs again.
Nodding in understanding, the reporter lets him go and disappears into the crowd to gather more quotes for her article.
“She’s pretty!” Julius comments. “Are you gonna marry her?”
Nate laughs and retorts. “Can it, kid. Let’s go, I’m tired.”
I snort and Mariam shakes her head.
“Hopeless. Oblivious and hopeless,” she says, slipping her arm through the crook of my elbow.
Tipping my hat up, I press a kiss to the top of my wife’s head.
“There’s hope for him yet,” I reply.
And then we head outside, away from the celebrating crowd, looking forward to some needed alone time with my Mariam in our quiet, peaceful house in the country.
THE END
