Our lovemaking that night was slow and sweet, and it set off a chain of events that would change my life forever.
I would never forget the night Jeremy scared the life out of me. Because he also gave me something that night that I would hold dear for the rest of my days.
Weeks had passed since the night I scared Sierra, and surprisingly, I wasn’t stuck in the doghouse. God, I was a lucky man. We’d been married for two years—two blissful, amazing years. Sure, we had our arguments, but for the most part, life was good. I was considered a rising star at the real estate agency, and Sierra was loving her job. We spent our days working hard and our nights living, loving, and laughing. And, of course, making love—which, of course, was on my mind that Friday night as I headed home from work. I’d just gotten a raise, and I was ready to celebrate. Sierra could put on that little, sexy, black dress, we’d go for dinner and drinks, and then I’d get to take her out of it.
A great Friday night to me.
“Jeremy!” Sierra’s shriek echoed through the house as soon as I entered through the garage.
I loosened my tie and smiled. I knew what she was doing. She’d been doing it for weeks. She was trying to get back at me for the prank I’d pulled even though we both knew I would always reign supreme on that one.
I mean, seriously? She had run screaming through the neighborhood. It. Was. Awesome. Not that I’d ever tell her that.
Ty couldn’t believe I still had balls, and Lexi had threatened to take his if he ever thought of doing anything similar, but I’d smiled at the memory of how well I’d helped Sierra relax afterwards. Who knew scaring the shit out of her would have been such good foreplay?
“Jeremy!”
This one was more frantic than before, and just as I was about to play along, she came sliding into the kitchen wearing nothing but socks and a T-shirt. She threw something at me, and before I could duck, it hit me straight on the forehead then clattered to the floor. I frowned.
“What in the world?” I muttered, and then she started gesturing wildly.
I watched in rapt fascination as she pointed at herself and then at me. Then she moved her finger back and forth between the two of us.
“You and me?” I asked, and she nodded enthusiastically.
Then she took her thumb and forefinger and made an O, sticking her other forefinger through it. You know. The juvenile symbol for sex. This piqued my interested, and I started unbuttoning my pants. She shook her head and huffed. Then she pointed at her belly, circling her finger.
That’s when it dawned on me.
“Seriously?”
She nodded.
“Seriously?”
She nodded.
“Are you fucking serious?”
Once again, Sierra nodded.
“Sierra! Fucking words!”
“We’re having a baby!” she squealed in such a quick rush I almost missed it.
“We’re having a baby,” I repeated, and she nodded again, beaming.
She launched herself into my arms, and I stumbled slightly as she wrapped her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck. I gazed up into her eyes, completely in awe.
“We’re having a baby,” I whispered.
She leaned down to kiss me. “Are you happy?” she asked, and I wasted no time carrying her down the hall and plopping her down on the bed.
“Happy? No, baby, I’m fucking ecstatic.” My hand cupped her cheek. “You just made the happiest man in the world.”
It was true. I’d always known I wanted to be a dad, and there was no question that Sierra and I would eventually start a family. But I never expected the sudden rush of joy that filled my heart as soon as I heard I was going to be a dad. I was like a kid waiting for his birthday, wanting the time to pass quickly, unable to stand the wait.
And I had a lot of waiting to do. But I didn’t fucking care. I was going to be a dad.
A dad.
Holy shit.
“So much so you’ll forget I just threw my pregnancy test at your head?” she asked sheepishly, snapping me out of my stunned trance.
“Is that what that was?” I asked as I peppered her jaw with kisses.
“Mmm hmm,” she murmured then moaned as I thrust two fingers deep inside her without preamble.
“Don’t fucking care. You’re having my baby. Throw as many of those at my head as you want as long as they’re all positive.”
“Jeremy,” she panted.
I stopped kissing her to look up. “Yeah, baby?”
“Shut up and fuck me.”
Well, hell. Who was I to say no to that?
So I shut up and fucked my wife.
My gorgeous, incredible, pregnant wife.
Then we celebrated, and then we fucked some more.
In a little less than nine months, Ava Victoria Banks would be born and our lives would never be the same.
For almost a week, I’d been avoiding the pregnancy test underneath my bathroom sink. On Monday, I’d realized I was three days late. My boobs were tender to the touch, but I hadn’t had any other pregnancy symptoms, so I didn’t want to get all excited for it to turn out that my cycle was just changing.
Jeremy and I had talked about starting a family, but we weren’t actively trying or anything. It was more of a “let nature take its course and if it happens, it happens” kinda thing. But now that I was a week late, I had to know. And I had to know before Jeremy came home.
So I unwrapped the plastic, peed on a stick, and then paced my bathroom for two minutes, not allowing myself to even peek. When the timer on my phone dinged, the garage door opened. It was now or never.
With trembling hands, I picked the stick up and took a deep breath.
Those two pink lines were the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen.
We were having a baby.
I couldn’t wait to tell Jeremy, and when I did, his reaction was pretty much what I’d expected.
I wish I could say that that was all she wrote, but I’d be lying. The next nine months were a whirlwind, and by the time Jeremy insisted on calling our baby girl Jeremina, I was more than ready to cut him off from baby naming. Until he suggested Ava, and I fell in love. It was from one of his favorite movies—The Night of the Iguana—and he had an unhealthy obsession with Ava Gardner, but I didn’t care. If we’d been told that it was a boy, I’d have been really hard-pressed not to name it after Taylor Kitsch.
We had her name and her room ready, and we were both impatiently awaiting the arrival of our daughter. She couldn’t have gotten there soon enough.
2008
“IT’S TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIME!” JEREMY’S VOICE woke me from a dreamless sleep, and I wanted to knock him out.
I squinted with one eye and groaned. “You and Ty are no longer allowed to watch UFC at our house. I told you, no more Bruce Buffer, Jeremy, and I meant it. No more.”
Jeremy grinned and held his arms out. Groaning again, I blinked twice, wiping my eyes as I sat up in bed. I frowned when I saw that he was already dressed and my suitcase was at his feet.
“You love my Bruce Buffer. Especially in bed.” He wagged his eyebrows while giving me a playful smile.
It was my turn to grin—from the memory of the first time he “Buffered” me. “I should probably send that guy a thank-you note. Now, I never have to wonder when you’re about to get off in my mouth.”