Paint Day
Humming she bent down slowly. The
pregnancy slowed everything down. She was using a knife to open the can of
buttercream paint she brought last week. Today was paint day and nothing was
going to stop her.
Not even her pregnant protruding belly.
They were going to do everything themselves. Taylor insisted she and Ian be the
ones to decorate the rooms their child would sleep in. It was what expectant
parents did. It was a bonding opportunity for the both of them.
Plus it was fun watching Ian struggle
with figuring out how to work most of the tools. Used to paying others to
decorate his home. Ian did not have a clue where to start.
Most of her morning had been spent directing
him on how to properly prime the walls and place the painters tape. Carefully
placing the paint top on the ground she bit her lip in concentration.
“Are you sure you want to paint the room
yellow,” Ian asked for the fiftieth time.
Taylor smiled and looked over her
shoulder. Shirtless, Ian looked sexy as he walked into the room wearing only sweat
pants and carrying a cup of coffee. Because she refused to know the sex of the
baby, he had been pushing for more gender-neutral colors.
“It is not yellow. It is buttercream.”
“Right, buttercream.”
Taylor picked up the paintbrush beside
her and stirred the paint. “We chose a zoo theme. The buttercream will brighten
the entire room.”
As he took a sip of his coffee, Ian
walked over to her and slipped his hand over hers. Gently taking the paintbrush
from her.
“You did most of the priming. I will do
this. The last thing we need is this baby coming early because you can’t sit
still.”
“Dee says I am nesting.”
“And I am all for it, but how about I
take my turn?”
Taylor rolled her eyes and sat back as
she gently rubbed her abdomen. In three more weeks she would finally be able to
see her toes again.
The paint covers on their floor crinkled
beneath her as Ian handed her his cup. She held it up to her nose and breathed
deep.
“You have a serious problem.”
“It smells so good,” Taylor moaned
longingly and settled onto the floor.
Oh caffeine… How she missed thee? She
had given up coffee, sushi, hard liquor, red meat, and heels. Taylor
practically lived in yoga pants and loose flowing blouses.
Ian only drank his coffee black. So
simple. So plain. But she would take it. She would take anything at this point.
She liked her coffee with just a drop of
creamer. No sugar. Or honey. Just creamer to make it just a little brown. Ian
poured the paint into a pan and dipped his brush in.
Taylor sat back to watched her husband’s
first attempt at painting. Licking her lips, she watched as the muscles in his
back rippled. She really was a lucky girl, Taylor thought playfully.
The baby kicked causing Taylor to
chuckle. “Keep up the good work and I will have to think up some type of prize.”
Ian laughed. The deep tenor of his voice
sent spark of lust through her spin. Lately when she wasn’t thinking about
food, she was thinking about sex. Her mind would spin off into these wild
fantasies about Ian and herself sans the sixty pound she’d gained carrying
their child.
Shaking her had she cocked her head to
the side and studied the room. Because they weren’t sure about the baby’s
gender. Taylor had opted for a gender-neutral room. Lots of non-specific gender
colors.
“I still think we should paint a mural
from a scene in the book “Where The Wild Things Are”,” Taylor wondered aloud.
“You are going to give the kid
nightmares.”
“My kid is going to be fearless,” Taylor
denied.
Ian dipped the brush back in the paint. “Fearless,
huh?”
Taylor nodded. “Of course, with me as his
or her mom. What else could he or she be?”
“Just you, huh?” Ian grinned over his
shoulder.
Taylor caught his intense dark grey eyes.
She could see the love and desire there. Ambling to her feet, Taylor had long
given up looking like the graceful pregnant lady. She walked over to him and
slipped her arms around his waist.
Kissing his shoulder blade before she
laid her head on his shoulder. Taylor breathed in his scent.
“I am sure you will help too.”
* * *
There was an insistent buzz in his ears.
Once Taylor dropped her bomb, Ian could not think or hear. He forgot everything
and insisted she take him to Saint.
His son.
He had a son. Saint was currently sitting
in Taylor’s lap and explaining to her the importance of a puppy in his life.
Taylor was listening with an indulgent smile. They were seated on the cream
leather sofa across from him.
Ian could hardly believe what he was
seeing. The boy was smiling as he faced his mother. His curly hair looked brown
beneath the sunlight streaming in through the main window of Taylor’s living
room.
Saint had not paid much attention to him
since their introduction. His campaign for a dog was not superseded by his
curiosity over the stranger his mom brought home.
“The puppy can sleep on my bed. And
Deedee and I can walk him. And feed him.”
Taylor rubbed his back as she sighed as
she talked to him patiently. “Puppies like space. Living in our apartment would
be torture for a puppy.”
“Piper has a dog. And she lives across
the hall,” Saint pointed out.
“Piper’s dog is tiny,” Taylor reasoned.
Ian stared at the picture the two of
them presented. Taylor had walked away from their marriage with enough money to
by five homes and a small boat. Instead she lived in a small three-bedroom
apartment.
From what he’d seen, Taylor drove a
four-door sedan and did not dress in designer clothes. She’d never been a big
spender. Because of the way she grew up, Taylor was practically allergic to
what she considered to be wasteful spending.
“Mom,” Saint exclaimed placing his hand
on Taylor’s cheek, “a boy needs a dog. Its man’s best friend.”
Taylor bit her lip in an effort not to
laugh. “Okay”
Holding up her hands in surrender,
Taylor nodded and smiled down at the boy. “How about this? If you stay out of
trouble for a week with both Deedee and I. I will start looking for a dog.”
The toothy grin on his son’s face made
Ian want to run out and buy a dog. The kid was perfect and he was health. The
kid was his.
