The Baby He Wants: A BWWM Pregnancy Romance (14 page)

“
Okay,”
she said. Tristan stood up with a clap.

“
Great.
You just relax over there, I’ll get things ready. Anyone you
want to invite to witness?”

“
Yeah.
Bob and Joe Black.”

“
Better
get them on the phone now then.”

Ava was
already nodding and fishing the phone out from her bag.

*****

“
You’ve
lost your damned mind!” Jensen whisper-shouted at him.

“
Have
I?” Tristan asked with disinterest as he straightened his tie
and gathered papers together, “I don’t see it.”

Jensen
sighed heavily but said no more. He simply snatched the papers out of
Tristan’s hands and went to get Ava to sign them.

*****

“
Have
you lost your damned mind?” Bob asked as he entered Tristan’s
penthouse, Joe Black in a basket.

“
Yeah
I have. Nice to see you too,” Ava answered leading him to the
living room.

“
This
is a mistake and you know it,” Bob said.

“
You
were the one who said he should step up
to the plate,” she whispered back.

“
I
didn’t mean
this,
”
Bob protested. Ava turned to fix him with a glare.

“
Could
you shut up and get with the program please? You’re upsetting
Joe Black.”

“
Yeah,
okay, sure,” Bob said with sarcasm dripping from every word. He
was dressed up in his ‘funeral’ suit though so Ava
figured he was on board with being a witness anyway. She grabbed Joe
Black’s basket and released him. He promptly leaped out and
began to chase something no one else could see.

Ava
sighed, “I haven’t told Tristan that Joe Black will be
moving in too.”

“
Excuse
me what!?” Bob rounded on her eyes bobbing out of his face.

“
Hey;
you’re his uncle, I’m his mommy. He comes with me.”

“
But…you
already have another baby on the way; why can’t I keep Joe?”

“
You
can visit any time you like,” Ava soothed just as the doorbell
rang. The Justice of the Peace was here.

*****

The
ceremony was relatively clinical. Ava changed out of her black dress
because she wasn’t about to get married in a black dress
however good it looked. She was therefore dressed in a white tuxedo
that looked surprisingly good on her. She stood with Tristan in his
navy blue suit and listened to the Justice of the Peace recite her
bit.

“
We
are assembled here in the presence of these witnesses to celebrate
the joining of this man and this woman in the unity of marriage.
There are no obligations on earth sweeter or tender than those you
are about to assume. There are no vows more solemn than those you are
about to make. There is no human institution more sacred than that of
the home you are about to form. True marriage is the holiest of all
earthly relationships. The state of matrimony is based on this deep,
invisible union of two souls who seek to find completion in one
another. Do you understand this?”

“
Yes.”
Both Tristan and Ava chorused.
“Will you please face each
other and join hands?”

They did
as they were bid, hands linking in front of them. Jensen and Bob both
sighed in united resignation.
“Tristan Carrington will you
take this woman, whose hands you hold, choosing her alone to be your
wedded wife? Will you live with her in the state of true matrimony?
Will you love her, comfort her, through good times and bad, in
sickness and in health, honor her at all times, and be faithful to
her?” she asked.

Tristan
smiled, “I will.”
“Ava Richards, will you take
this man, whose hands you hold, choosing him alone to be your wedded
husband? Will you live with him in the state of true matrimony? Will
you love him, comfort him, through good times and bad, in sickness
and in health, honor him at all times, and be faithful to him?”
“I
will,” she replied and her voice shook only a little.
“As
you take these preliminary vows, Tristan and Ava, I would have you
remember:
To love is to come together from the pathways of our
past and then move forward...Hand in hand, along the uncharted roads
of our future, ready to risk, to dream, and to dare.... And always
believe that all things are possible with faith and love (in God) and
in each other.”

Tristan
and Ava kept their eyes on each other the entire time she spoke.

“
Will
you repeat after me?” the Justice asked and they nodded.
“I
Tristan Carrington take you Ava Richards to be my wife, to love and
cherish, from this day forward, and thereto pledge you my faith.”
Tristan repeated the words after the Justice. There seemed to be a
weight in his chest which just dissolved at the words.
“I,
Ava Richards, take you Tristan Carrington, to be my husband, to love
and to cherish, from this day forward, and thereto pledge you my
faith.” Ava repeated the words after the Justice of Peace,
feeling weightless once they were spoken. It was a curious relief
that suffused her and she felt that she was truly not alone in
this.
“I understand you have brought rings as a token of
your sincerity?” the Justice asked and Ava widened her eyes at
Tristan wondering if he’d thought of that. It was Jensen who
stepped forward and put a white gold band in her hand, and
Tristan’s.
“Tristan, will you repeat after me: With
this ring, I thee wed. Let it ever be to us a symbol of our love.”
He spoke the words after her, slipping the ring on her finger.
“
Ava, will you repeat after me: With this ring, I thee wed. Let it
ever be to us a symbol of our love.” She did so with no
hesitation.
“In as much as you, Tristan, and you Ava, have
consented together in the union of matrimony and you have pledged
your faith each to the other in the presence of God and this company,
now by the authority vested in me, I now pronounce you HUSBAND AND
WIFE! YOU MAY KISS THE BRIDE!” the Justice of Peace seemed more
excited than they were.

Ava
looked at Tristan and he looked back at her. Then he leaned slowly
forward and placed his lips chastely on hers. She leaned into it
though and what started out as a mere peck became something a little
more intimate; a little more intense. Tristan’s hands inched
around her waist and pulled her closer, fitting her snugly against
his torso. Her hands snaked around his neck if only to anchor
herself. They stayed glued to each other for longer than was probably
comfortable for the spectators. They broke apart at last and smiled
sheepishly at each other. Jensen stepped forward.

“
May
I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Carrington,” he announced as if
the room was full of people. Bob and the Justice clapped accordingly.

“
There
are hors de oeuvres and cocktails in the kitchen if you will all
follow me.” He continued to cheers from Bob and a high five
from Tristan. They all trooped to the kitchen where Jensen handed Ava
a pink non alcoholic drink and poured champagne for the rest.

“
To
the bride and groom,” he intoned. Everyone toasted and drank
and then there was laughter and everyone talking at once as they
consumed the delicacies that Jensen had conjured from somewhere.

*****

It felt
good, walking into her bedroom, but it didn't feel like home.

Ava
didn't say this, because she could see the light in Tristan's eyes
from the moment they were left alone. But she couldn’t forget
it, either, and she couldn’t be at ease in here the way clearly
Tristan wanted her to.

That was
not to say the penthouse was not nice. It was. It was very, very
nice. Ava hadn't figured on having a closet the size of her old
bedroom ever, but she was dealing. Having a bathroom whose only
drawback was that it was difficult to choose between soaking in the
tub or lounging in the shower was a luxury only someone who had grown
up with a tiny bathroom can appreciate; and Tristan wasn't kidding
about the water pressure either.

As
a home base, the penthouse had a lot going for it. This place had
a
huge
kitchen, and while Ava wasn’t
planning on using it much, she meant to sure as hell reap the
benefits. This place had its own library, she could practically live
in the den; if she wanted to, she could probably install a studio in
one of the spare rooms no problem. This place had class. This place
had convenience. This place had a giant goddamned Erard piano.

And none
of it felt real.

The
penthouse had twelve-foot-thick, radiation-stopping, poured concrete
walls. Ava guessed they were meant to make the occupants feel safe.
The penthouse was clearly set up by some foremost interior designer.
It still felt cold to Ava. The penthouse was her new home much as it
felt foreign and different. Ava figured she’d get used to it.
It was just all new and different and she was pregnant, therefore
hormonal. This too shall pass and all that.

Tristan
moved inside the penthouse with a degree of relaxation Ava had not
seen before. Perhaps it was because they were married now or maybe it
had to do with this being the longest she’d spent in his
company and he was just letting his real self show. Tristan walked
around like he had the world at his feet; and likely he did after
all. Ava was just feeling the teensiest bit out of place in this new
world she’d been thrust into. There had only ever been one
place where Ava believed implicitly in the solidity of her
surroundings.

It was
not a problem, exactly. Ava had lived most of her life without any
serious expectation of security, unlike Tristan. Ava didn't have to
believe that the penthouse would be in her life forever in order to
enjoy it. It was just that she wished she could love it, because
Tristan did. It would make things much easier for them both.

Ava was
two volumes deep in the history of Music As Seen Through the Eyes of
an Opera House Conductor when Tristan plunked a plate of chicken
salad down in front of her, took the chair next to Ava's, put his
socked feet on the table about four inches away from Ava's food, and
said, conversationally, "We should have a sex marathon."

Ava
didn't choke on her coffee, but she did freeze with one hand extended
toward the plate. Several seconds later, she swallowed.

"Uh."

"Think
about it. We’re married now; the sex is legal. Why not have a
sex marathon?" Tristan took a bite of his own sandwich. "We
gotta christen the pad, girl; you and me."

Okay, so
maybe that little flip in Ava's stomach was interest, and maybe when
she blinked a few possibilities cross her mind, there and gone like
the afterimage of a neon sign. If anything, that interest was only
intensified by a twist of unaccustomed mortification. She could count
the number of times she’d had sex on the fingers of one hand
and have a few left over. She wasn’t quite sure she was ready
for marathons just yet.

Tristan
had fucked her after their wedding. They had gone to sleep directly
after everyone left but then Tristan shook her awake three hours
later; reached for Ava. He let out this sound that Ava wished she
could scrub from her brain, and curled fiercely over her back even as
he'd kissed her like he'd
eat
Ava
if he could, thrust into her like he could crawl inside. Fast, hard,
brutal in a way it hadn’t been before. It hurt like hell, and
Ava got off like Vesuvius. Two weeks later, she still had bruises,
and more than once she had got off on her own in the shower with one
hand on her sensitive nub and the other digging into the remnants of
Tristan's marks. But that was right at the start of this thing,
before pregnancy had began to make itself felt. Now, she needed to
play for time.

It was
lucky that Tristan was getting off on what he thought was Ava being
flummoxed and uptight, because otherwise these, oh, fifteen, twenty
seconds that Ava'd been stammering might be awkward. As it was,
Tristan was smirking with a revolting degree of self-satisfaction.

"We
could try out that thing you wrote about in your diary in high
school. You know, with the flashlight and—"

"Tristan!"
Ava yelped.

"Aw,
Ava you're blushing."

"I
am not."

"You
really are."

"Shut
up."

"Didn't
use the magic word."

"Shut
the fuck up."

"You're
a true lady, Ava."

Ava
clamped her lips together and shot Tristan a pissy look because
goddamn it, she
wa
s
blushing, and the harder she tried to
stop the hotter her face got.

"Trying
to work here," she muttered, hunching up over her book.

The
intensity of her own embarrassment had caught her off guard. Tristan
liked to tease her about being a prude, but they both knew it was not
true. Sure, she wasn’t very experienced but she was game to try
anything…once. Why just last night, they were watching the
game when Tristan suggested they mutually masturbate each other. Yes,
she couldn’t look him in the eye the whole time and he thought
that was adorable but she’d got him off just fine in the end.
Of course it could be that she was so distracted by his tongue in
her…that she hadn’t really noticed what the hell she was
doing.

Yet
somehow, Tristan sitting across from her at
their
table proposing they properly break in
their
new
home was the kinkiest thing Ava'd ever heard.

"Sex
marathon, Ava." Tristan balled up his napkin and lobbed it at
Ava's head.