Page 84 of Black Flag

Balance – Sway

Some say a fairytale isonly scripted in a child’s book or the movies. Never believing, never seeing,they also think such happiness will never happen to them. I believe in makingthe fairytale, deciding for yourself when, how, and with who. You see, Ibelieve in the fairytale but I also believe in such a thing as happy right now.Maybe the complete fairytale was still being written.

When I was a child, Ihad this fantasy of what my life would be like. I imagined there would be theperfect white wedding dress, a prince charming that’d carry me to some hugecastle with a dragonwhoguarded me at night. Iremember believing in all the magically mythical beings that were scripted inthose stories.

I believed all thatshit was true with every fiber of my being. I was a kid. But eventually I grewup and one day I realized the stories were full of shit. Actually, Charlieinformed me all that was just bullshit. Fairytales don’t exist. But when you’rea little girl who grew up without a mom, it’s hard to let go of that fairytaleentirely because I still believed that maybe it would come true for me. I hopedsomething in my little world would go my way.

Believing in somethingis a funny thing because when you’re least expecting it, it shows up in waysyou never imagined it would.

The castle turns out tobe an unfinished house and the prince charming turns out to be a dirty heathenwith anger issues.

Happily ever afterisn’t important.

What’s in front of youis. Happy right now it what’s important.

Before we could make itinside the house on Lake Norman, I was suddenly whirled and pressed against thedoor by a very intense Jameson. His eyes burned into mine as he pressed againstme, his hips strong,hishands wildly impatient. Onewild hand slid down my leg, grasped my thigh and hitched it around his hip. Imoaned at his touch, overwhelmed. Once inside our unfinished house, I wasspeechless.

Like I said, in asimple gesture, sometimes people can take your breath away.

The living room hadbeen transformed into something out of a fairytale. The empty house was ablazewith candles, bathing the dark room in a soft warm glow. The windows and Frenchdoors were open, allowing the warm summer night air to swirl throughout thehouse. The smells of fresh cut grass, flowers and my Jameson next to me floodedmy senses making me light headed. If I listened closely, I could hear therippling of the lake and the water slapping the deck.

And there, leaningagainst the wall, with a smirk on his face, resembling something out of a JamesDean movie wasmydirty heathen...myprince charming,myknight in shining armor. His hair was messy, body strong, his white dress shirtunbuttoned all the way down, thanks to me, and his black tie loosened aroundhis neck. The way the cathedral candle monstrosity danced across his skin itmade him, well, he sparkled and his rusty hair glistened. His hands were tuckedinto his pockets leaving his jacket pinned between his forearm and side.

“When did you do this?”I asked curiously watching him as he walked toward me with a slow gait; hishands remaining in his pockets.

We had just arrived inMooresville not less than an hour ago and I was sure he wouldn’t have had timeto do this having been with him the entire time since he proposed.

A smirk ghosted acrosshis lips, his hands came up to cup my cheeks.

“Emma owed me a favor.”He bent down and picked me up bridal style, carrying me up the grand stair casetoward the bedroom. More candles were placed on each wooden step leading thepath and throughout the upstairs leading to the master suite.

Laid across the kingsize bed placed in the center of the bedroom, he kissed every patch of skinreverently, stroked the same spots gently, worshipping with his warm fingers.

I let him go as slowlyas he wanted, patiently watching him with a small smile when he got to mymidsection and carefully explored the hard, subtle bulge with his lips andhands, rubbing it tenderly. And just as I’d hoped, our little spaz nudgedJameson’s hand.

His head shot up, hiseyes widening.

“Sway,” he gasped. “Wasthat...?” his voice fadedlooking down at the bulge again.

Tears slipped down mycheeks, “Yes.”

I watched as one of hishands trailed up over my belly, rubbing gently over the spot where the babykicked.

“God, you are sobeautiful.” He looked down at me with lust-darkened eyes, through long darkbeautiful lashes. He ran his hands down my neck, between my breasts. “TiameròpersemprelamiaSway,” He murmured against my neck.

Oh god, he knew exactly whatto do to send me over the edge. I had no idea what he just said to me but Iloved it when he spoke Italian.

He worshiped me withhis hands and mouth. He was showing me all the love he was feeling for me inthat moment. All the love he’d felt for me our entire lives together. So muchhad been leading up to this point that at times it seemed we’d never betogether and here we were together, in the most intimate way, and he wanted tospend the rest of his life with me.

I felt like squealingwith excitement.

Feeling his heavy andhot breath on my neck, he whispered, “I love you,” bringing me back to themoment with him hovering over me.

“I love you too.” Igently whispered resting my head in the crook of his neck.

He sighed contently,moving his fingers lightly over my naked body. His hand reached down andgrasped my left hand, bringing the ring to his lips.

“Thank you, honey.” Hewhispered and took our joined hands and placed them on my stomach over ourchild. He chuckled. “You really said yes?”

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