Leif
“Cook for her, Leif! She deserves a homemade meal when she comes home from work,” Mom reminds me as she rolls her suitcase toward the front door.
Cami tosses me a smirk and I stifle a laugh. Crazy that I get married in Vegas and my mother sides with my new wife on nearly all things.
“I will, Mom,” I say, opening my arms.
Mom gives me a big hug. “I had fun visiting you.”
“Thanks for coming.” I kiss her temple. Even though she’s meddlesome and quirky and doesn’t understand boundaries, I love my mom with every fiber in my being and I enjoyed having her stay with me more than I’ll ever admit. “I can drive you to the airport, you know.”
Mom laughs and pulls away to Cami. “I like to keep my independence,” she replies, waving to the Uber driver who idles in my driveway.
“We know it.” I pick up her suitcase and walk it to the waiting car.
Mom and Cami exchange a few more words before Cami gives her one last hug. It shouldn’t affect me the way it does—watching Mom and Cami interact, witnessing them get along—but I like it. I’m grateful that my wife and my mom have hit it off the way they have. That while I’ve learned to navigate a marriage, my mom welcomed Cami as a daughter-in-law with open arms and thoughtful advice. Even more, Cami was receptive to it.
It almost seems too good to be true. But everything about Cami and me has been unexpected and unconventional. Why should this be any different?
“See you soon, Mom,” I say, helping Mom into the car and making sure she’s settled up with the Uber driver.
Cami and I stand on the front porch and wave good-bye to Mom until the car’s taillights turn the corner.
Then I turn toward my girl and grin. “You ready to unpack?”
She smiles back. It’s genuine and lights her face up. “Did you designate half the closet for me?”
I laugh. “Babe, I never even filled half the closet. I’ve only been here six months and, I’m not that complicated of a guy. I don’t have fashion sense like Hudson. You take up all the space you need.”
“Wow.” Cami’s eyes widen and she drops her mouth open in mock surprise. “A husband who cooks and gives me the whole closet?” She tugs on my shirt and pulls me flush against her frame. Grinning up at me, I’m struck by how gorgeous she is. “Seems like I hit the husband lottery with you, Ten.”
I snort and palm her ass. I lift her easily and she twines her legs around my waist. I squeeze the tops of her thighs, relieved my mother is gone. “I’m good at other things too.”
Cami smirks. “Like what?”
“I could show you.” I carry her into the house and kick the door closed behind me.
“Where?” She glances around our place, her eyes lingering on the kitchen island.
I chuckle. “You’re something else, Knox.” I stride toward the kitchen island and place her on the edge. Then, I brace my hand behind her, splaying my fingers, as I lean into my beautiful wife and kiss her senseless.
She tightens her legs on my waist, digging the heels of her feet into my ass and dragging my hard cock along her core as she leans back.
It’s as if we’ve finally realized we’re alone. That it’s just me and her and this house. Our marriage.
Our clothes come off quickly. Our mouths meet in a frenzy. Our hands are desperate, our touches rushed. We clash perfectly, two free spirits colliding on a slab of marble in the middle of the damn day.
My wife makes sounds I get off on. Her body responds to my touch beautifully. I unravel under the watchful gaze of her hooded eyes and wonder how the hell I got so lucky.
How the hell is this my life?
Tugging her off the island, I lay her down in the middle of the damn dining room but she turns the tables, pushing me onto my back so she can climb on top and ride me. Fuck, she does it with abandon.
“That’s it, baby,” I coax her, my palm gliding up and down the back of her thigh.
My girl finds her rhythm, she chases her pleasure, and I have the immense pleasure of watching her reach the peak and fall over the edge. “You’re too fucking much, Cami.”
She rolls her hips slowly, grinding her pussy against me until I cry out her name, jack my hips up, and spill inside her. Then, she collapses on top of me and I hold her against my chest. We’re sticky and messy and deliriously sated.
“I never knew it could be like this,” she murmurs.
“Me neither,” I admit, brushing my lips over her silky hair.
“Does this part last?”
“I fucking hope so.”
“Me too,” she murmurs.
We lay like that for a long stretch of time before we both relocate to the bathroom. Under the hot stream of water in the shower, we come together again. Slowly this time. I press my wife against the cool glass of the shower and shadow her back with my frame. Through the steam, I can make out her outline in the mirror hanging across from the shower. I watch her reflection, the way her lips part, the heaviness of her breasts as they spread along the glass, how her hand clasps me behind the neck and pulls my head down. I pump in and out of her from behind slowly and witnessing it unfold through the mirror is one of the most erotic experiences of my life.
Taking her hand in mind, I move her fingers over her clit in slow, even circles. “Look how perfect you are.” My voice is low. A growl. I nip her ear and she turns her head, finding us in the mirror.
Cami whimpers.
I apply more pressure to her fingertips and her breath hitches.
“Leif.”
“Come for me, baby.” I move her fingers faster. Thrust into her quicker. “I want to feel you come apart on my cock.”
“Fuck,” she mutters, unable to look away.
I find her gaze in the mirror and hold it. It’s hazy now. We’re surrounded by steam and the shower takes on an ethereal quality that reminds me of that first night—in the club.
“Oh, God, Leif. I’m coming,” Cami cries out, shuddering. I hold her closer, banding an arm around her stomach to keep her upright as her knees give out. When she gets her legs under her, I lace my fingers with hers and place both of our joined hands on the shower glass as I pump into her from behind.
Christ, but I’m close. Watching the way her ass moves, it only takes four pumps before I’m emptying myself inside Cami. Again.
“Fuck, you drive me wild.” I kiss the nape of her neck.
She laughs, her breathing still erratic. “I get why married people take honeymoons now.”
I snort and nod against her back. “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, Cam.”
She turns around and wraps her arms around my neck. “I want to be right here. With you.”
“Me too,” I admit, kissing her. It’s a long, passionate, thorough kiss that centers me in new ways.
With Cami, I’m not go-with-the-flow, Laid-Back Leif, as much as I’m whatever she needs me to be. Her husband.
And I like that more than any other identifier.
We shower together, taking our time and enjoying just being under the hot water. When we’re both finished, we dry off with thick towels Mom had the good sense to wash and dry last night.
Then, I pull one of my hockey shirts over my girl’s head. She slides on a pair of underwear and combs out her hair. I pull on sweats, and we relocate to the kitchen where I make us pancakes for dinner.
We spend the rest of the night watching TV, talking, and cracking jokes. Cami’s hair dries naturally. I wrap her in a blanket and pull her onto my lap. And I discover what true contentment is.
For the first time in my life, I think I have what my parents share, what my older brothers have found, what Chris has with Casey and Hudson has with Piper. And I get it. I get them.
Because this, with Cami, this is everything.
Over the next few weeks, Cami and I settle into a routine. Into our version of a honeymoon. We go for hikes or runs in the early morning and have smoothie bowls for breakfast.
I kiss my wife good-bye as she heads to work, and meet her and her coworkers one or two times a week for happy hour.
When I head to the stadium for an afternoon, weekend skate, she bakes cookies and spends time sketching. I haven’t seen her work yet but the few doodles I’ve caught in the margins of shopping lists have clued me in—my wife is really talented. She has a true passion and could turn her drawings, her designs, into a career path if it’s something she wanted to do.
A few times, we Zoom with my siblings and my parents. My brothers and Annie like Cami instantly. My dad thinks she’s good for me. Grounding is the word he uses.
Mom is over the moon and as the days stretch into weeks, Mom and Cheryl ramp up their wedding planning.
“You know, before our Crosslake wedding, we have a wedding to attend in Honey Harbor,” I tell Cami one night as I flip our burgers on the grill.
She’s holding a cup of tea, her feet curled underneath her, as she perches in one of the Adirondack chairs. “That’s right! Chris and…Casey?”
“Yep. Their wedding is the last Saturday in July.”
“That will be fun!” Cami takes a sip of her tea. “I’ll need to buy a new dress.”
“Whatever you need. You got the credit card I left you, right?”
She snorts. “You mean the one you slipped into my wallet?”
I shrug.
“I can buy my own clothes, Leif,” she says quietly.
I glance at her over my shoulder. “I know you can. It’s just…there. In case of an emergency.”
She rolls her eyes. “Now you sound like my dad.”
“I like your dad,” I volley, even though I’ve only talked to the man once and I don’t think he likes me at all. I still have some work to do to get Mr. Coleman and Rhett to welcome me into the family fold. Luckily, Cheryl is putting in a good word for me, and Jenna and I have talked a few times.
Cami sighs. “It’s important to me that I can…take care of myself.”
I frown, wondering where this is coming from. “Okay. I know you can take care of yourself, and you know you can too. The card is just an extra…insurance. You might see shoes you like.”
She laughs and rolls her eyes. “Hey, this Friday, Sam and Tarek want to hit some music festival after happy hour. Maria can’t come because her mom has dinner plans, so she doesn’t have anyone to watch the baby.”
“Oh.” I wrinkle my nose. “That’s too bad.”
“Yeah, but I told them we’d go with them. Is that okay?”
I shrug. “Sure. I’d love to check out more of the local music scene.”
Cami grins. “Great! I’ll text them to confirm.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and rattles off a text message.
I plate our burgers and turn toward her. “Dinner is served.”
“Thank you, kind sir.” Cami stands from the chair, and we relocate to the kitchen island to eat our dinner.
And it’s easy. Comfortable. Fun.
A lazy summer I never want to end.