Mace (Cocky Cage Fighter #4)(97)

By: Lane Hart


Walking past the row of championship banners, Linc’s, Jude’s, Senn’s and my own hanging proudly from the ceiling in one of the best, most lucrative gyms in the country, thanks in part to my marketing genius wife, I head to the parking lot. Sally winks at me before purring when I crank her. Even after all these years, she still runs like a champ. Occasionally, when she doesn’t turn over right away, I figure she’s still pissed about our short break-up ten years ago. Women have long memories like that. At least my brother-in-law found her and brought her back to me, his apology for thinking the worst of me and being absolutely wrong.

And, of course, the highway is a bumper-to-bumper traffic jam, when you’re already late. By the time I get parked about three miles away from the General Aviation Terminal, I have to run to make it on time. I apologize to the fuckers who I bump into when they get in my way.

I make it to the coffee shop with three minutes to spare. And there she is, my gorgeous, and I mean gor-geous wife, wearing her long blonde hair in a ponytail. It’s pretty much her go to style since she throws up regularly nowadays. Her phone is up to her ear while she leans a sexy hip against the condiment counter. A second later, mine is ringing in my pocket. The ringtone is no longer “Magic Stick” but the old school hit, “Now That We Found Love” by Heavy D & The Boyz.

Reaching for my phone while I dance to the beat, I admire Hailey’s navy blue, spaghetti strap dress that pushes up her huge tits. The fabric once flowed loosely to mid-thigh, but now it’s skin tight over her bump and even sexier, still showing off her long, lean legs. With even the slightest of breezes she would be flashing her panties, if she was wearing any, which I know for a fact she’s not.

“Hey, sweetheart,” I say, finally answering my phone.

“You’re gonna be late,” she teases with a stunning smile.

“I’m right on time,” I tell her, and her eyes start searching for me in the crowd. “How are you feeling? My boy behaving?”

Her hand rubs lovingly over her bump. “Yeah, I’ve felt good today, and haven’t been sick at all. We should celebrate.”

“We should,” I agree. “Miriah is staying with Eden tonight, so you know what that means?”

“The house will be quiet and feel empty?” she asks.

“Well, yeah, but you won’t be empty,” I promise her. “And you can be as loud as you want.”

“Oh, is that right?” she asks.

“We could even do something completely crazy, like get out of town for the night. I know this really great little B&B next to a diner that has the best peanut butter cake…”

“Now that sounds like a great idea.”

“Damn right,” I tell her.

She laughs, and is still smiling when her eyes finally land on me where I’m half-hidden behind a column.

Right on time, I notice proudly when I end our call to go to her. Eleven-eleven on June sixth is the exact moment I fell in love with that smile ten years ago. And the young, stupid me from that day was right. I'll not only keep my promise to love her for better or for worse, through sickness and health, for richer or poorer, but I'm also certain that I would still do anything on God’s green Earth just to see her smile.

The End

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