The Neverending Hangover

Chapter Fifty-One

Steve had cooked for himself for his entire adult life up until Paige, so he could do it no problem. He asked what she wanted and started right in.

After about fifteen minutes in the kitchen, he heard Bre gasp and call out, "Steve!"

He dropped what he was doing and ran to her side. As he hit his knees next to her, she grabbed his hand and thrust it on her belly. He felt the little gentle movements again and his vision blurred with tears.

"Oh, honey", he said, choked up. "That's our baby in there".

The little movements stopped and he composed himself, checking Bre's face. She was watching him with tears in her eyes. He leaned over, gently kissed her forehead, and kept his lips on her head for a moment. He wished she would reciprocate but he couldn't expect her to. Momentarily, he got up and resumed cooking.

At least she called for me, he told himself.

...........................................................................

The morning of Christmas Day, Steve got ready as quickly as possible, and then tried to stay out of Bre's way while also helping. He made egg sandwiches for breakfast, which she seemed to really appreciate, and he started loading the presents into the backseat of the truck as she was curling her hair.

On one of his trips back inside he caught her walking down the stairs. She was wearing a burgundy sweater dress, which was a flattering color on her, and hugged her curves, including the baby belly. She had on black tights and short black boots, and her legs looked long and shapely. Her makeup was perfect and her hair was in waves that framed her beautiful face.

"Oh, honey", he breathed. "You are so beautiful my heart just stopped".

He watched her eyes light up and her cheeks color slightly, giving him a shy smile in return for the compliment, one of her dimples showing, and he finally got it. What Brad had been trying to tell him for the longest time. Bre needed that. She needed the attention, and she needed the compliments, but she needed them to be authentic.

He watched her continue descending and stop at the bottom of the stairs. She glanced at him uncertainly, and he acted on impulse. He wasn't thinking about the fact that they were fighting, that she had kicked him out, that she wasn't wearing her ring, and that he was sleeping on the couch. No, he was thinking that he loved her, that she was his pregnant wife, and that she looked so beautiful he couldn't wait to get his hands on her.

He grabbed her hip with one hand, her face with the other, and planted his mouth on hers like she really did belong to him.

Lo and behold, his wife responded like she did. She kissed him back with one hand on the back of his neck, pulling his face into hers. He slid his tongue against hers and his hand onto her butt, pulling her up against him, and she continued to kiss him back.

He released her face and ran that hand over her breast instead.

Then she was unzipping his jacket without breaking contact from his mouth, and he pulled her sweater dress up enough to pull her tights down. She kicked her shoes off and he squatted down, helping her step out of her tights, then immediately pulling her underwear off, and grabbing both of her hips, planting his mouth right between her legs.

He didn't typically do that, and never while standing in their entryway, but it was right there at face level and he simply couldn't resist. There was really no thought at all behind anything he was doing right now.

She moaned a tiny bit right away and grabbed his hair with both of her hands. He continued doing what he was doing until she pushed him gently away and pulled him to standing.