just_muse_me | 10.9.6. Mistletoe
10.9.6. Mistletoe
Co-written with drcampbell & follows THIS
Lachlan bounded up the stairs and found his wife just as she was coming out of the bathroom looking a little worse for wear. “Hey, beautiful,” he said softly. “Nana said you were sick.” He brushed her hair off her sweaty face and tucked it behind her ears so he could kiss her forehead.
“Too much shortbread,” Tara said with a tired smirk. She wrapped her arms around his waist for an impromptu cuddle. “And to offer even more TMI, everything I eat is going right through me. This isn’t fair. I’m supposed to eat myself stupid for Christmas.”
“It’s Christmas Eve,” Lachlan laughed. He placed his hand on her heavily pregnant belly and gave it an affectionate rub. “And all the treats you are having are sugar-free and loaded with sweeteners. Sweeteners that can be a like a laxative when eaten in large portions. How much shortbread have you been eating?”
Tara put her finger to her mouth and bit the tip of it. “Just one… tray,” she had to add hastily. “But Nana made it for me, anyway! I’m pregnant. That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.”
“And now you have the runs,” Lachlan said with a smirk. “Then ended up having a good old puke.” He slipped his arm around her waist and led her over to the top of the stairs. “Come on, love of my life. Time to stop and put your feet up. No more cleaning, no more eating, no matter how diabetic friendly the sweeties are.”
“No, wait!” Tara protested, trying to back out of his grip. “I haven’t even started on the windows upstairs yet and I bought that apple furniture polish especially for the tables downstairs, so I need to do that. Plus… plus! Nana is making cherry cheesecake. Cheesecake, Lachie!”
Lachlan kissed her temple but continued to lead her downstairs. “I’ll give you a foot rub,” he bargained. “And clean the windows myself, then rub whatever fruit on the sofa you want me to. If you sit and relax. If this is you nesting now with six weeks to go, god help us all when you’re a few days before the birth. You’ll be wanting to turn the house to face north and cleaning every home in a two mile radius. I’ll have to rent you out to pay for all these cleaning products you’ve bought.”
“I thought I might rearrange the nursery. Google said a crib facing east is bad Chi,” Tara explained with an emphasising hand gesture. “The curtains need dusting, too. There is a distinct dust there.”
“You arenae rearranging the nursery, beautiful,” Lachlan said calmly as they made their way back downstairs to where the house was being readied for the large family Christmas. “And I dinnae even know what a Chi is. You wanted the crib there so you could have the rocking chair by the window.”
Tara scrunched her nose up and tried to get back up the stairs. “I changed my mind. I need to remake our bed, too. You got creases in the pillow cases.”
“Sorry for having a head,” Lachlan said in amusement but wouldn’t let her get back upstairs. “I love you, but you’re doing my head in. Come sit. Dinnae make me go looking for our furry handcuffs. We’ll play SingStar. You can even go first. I can feel you glaring a hole in my head.” His eyes flicked to her with a raised eyebrow and found the exact glare he had been expecting. “God, you make me horny when you look at me like that.”
Tara just pursed her lips. “You can jingle your own bells, Campbell.”
Lachlan couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing. “Wanna watch? I’ll even wear my Santa hat.” They reached the entry to the living room and he pointed up at the strategically placed mistletoe with a grin. “You know the rules.”
Tara whacked him in the chest and had to laugh herself. “Yeah, I’m sure you really want to stuff my stocking, gorgeous.” She pinched his cheeks and then pulled his face close so she could kiss him. “Merry Christmas, baby,” she murmured and kissed him deeply, making sure to throw in a bonus arse pinch for good luck.
Word Count | 708
Co-written with drcampbell & follows THIS
Lachlan bounded up the stairs and found his wife just as she was coming out of the bathroom looking a little worse for wear. “Hey, beautiful,” he said softly. “Nana said you were sick.” He brushed her hair off her sweaty face and tucked it behind her ears so he could kiss her forehead.
“Too much shortbread,” Tara said with a tired smirk. She wrapped her arms around his waist for an impromptu cuddle. “And to offer even more TMI, everything I eat is going right through me. This isn’t fair. I’m supposed to eat myself stupid for Christmas.”
“It’s Christmas Eve,” Lachlan laughed. He placed his hand on her heavily pregnant belly and gave it an affectionate rub. “And all the treats you are having are sugar-free and loaded with sweeteners. Sweeteners that can be a like a laxative when eaten in large portions. How much shortbread have you been eating?”
Tara put her finger to her mouth and bit the tip of it. “Just one… tray,” she had to add hastily. “But Nana made it for me, anyway! I’m pregnant. That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.”
“And now you have the runs,” Lachlan said with a smirk. “Then ended up having a good old puke.” He slipped his arm around her waist and led her over to the top of the stairs. “Come on, love of my life. Time to stop and put your feet up. No more cleaning, no more eating, no matter how diabetic friendly the sweeties are.”
“No, wait!” Tara protested, trying to back out of his grip. “I haven’t even started on the windows upstairs yet and I bought that apple furniture polish especially for the tables downstairs, so I need to do that. Plus… plus! Nana is making cherry cheesecake. Cheesecake, Lachie!”
Lachlan kissed her temple but continued to lead her downstairs. “I’ll give you a foot rub,” he bargained. “And clean the windows myself, then rub whatever fruit on the sofa you want me to. If you sit and relax. If this is you nesting now with six weeks to go, god help us all when you’re a few days before the birth. You’ll be wanting to turn the house to face north and cleaning every home in a two mile radius. I’ll have to rent you out to pay for all these cleaning products you’ve bought.”
“I thought I might rearrange the nursery. Google said a crib facing east is bad Chi,” Tara explained with an emphasising hand gesture. “The curtains need dusting, too. There is a distinct dust there.”
“You arenae rearranging the nursery, beautiful,” Lachlan said calmly as they made their way back downstairs to where the house was being readied for the large family Christmas. “And I dinnae even know what a Chi is. You wanted the crib there so you could have the rocking chair by the window.”
Tara scrunched her nose up and tried to get back up the stairs. “I changed my mind. I need to remake our bed, too. You got creases in the pillow cases.”
“Sorry for having a head,” Lachlan said in amusement but wouldn’t let her get back upstairs. “I love you, but you’re doing my head in. Come sit. Dinnae make me go looking for our furry handcuffs. We’ll play SingStar. You can even go first. I can feel you glaring a hole in my head.” His eyes flicked to her with a raised eyebrow and found the exact glare he had been expecting. “God, you make me horny when you look at me like that.”
Tara just pursed her lips. “You can jingle your own bells, Campbell.”
Lachlan couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing. “Wanna watch? I’ll even wear my Santa hat.” They reached the entry to the living room and he pointed up at the strategically placed mistletoe with a grin. “You know the rules.”
Tara whacked him in the chest and had to laugh herself. “Yeah, I’m sure you really want to stuff my stocking, gorgeous.” She pinched his cheeks and then pulled his face close so she could kiss him. “Merry Christmas, baby,” she murmured and kissed him deeply, making sure to throw in a bonus arse pinch for good luck.
Word Count | 708