Chapter 36: Meeting
The morning light poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the kitchen, catching the dust motes floating lazy in the air. The whole house smelled like bacon and coffee, and for a moment it felt less like a mansion and more like a home. I stood at the stove, flipping the last few strips onto a plate while the girls arranged themselves around the big oak table.
Steph was the first one seated, her massive belly leading the way. She'd taken to wearing these loose cotton dresses that did nothing to hide the sheer size of her. Eight months pregnant and glowing like she'd swallowed the sun. She had one hand resting on the underside of her bump, rubbing slow circles, and I caught her eye. She smiled, that lazy California smile, and I felt my chest tighten.
Zoe slid into the chair beside her, pouring herself a cup of coffee with cream so heavy it was practically white. She was wearing one of my old button-downs, untucked, and her hair was still a mess from sleep. She looked over at me with those dark eyes and gave a little smirk.
"You're up early," she said. "Tiffany keep you up?"
Tiffany padded in barefoot, wearing nothing but one of my t-shirts and a pair of tiny sleep shorts. Her blonde hair was a waterfall of tangled sunshine, and she looked so fucking cute I almost forgot what I was doing. She kissed my cheek on her way to the table, her hand brushing my ass when she thought no one was looking.
"No complaints here," I said.
Izzy came in last, her hair a fresh shade of lavender that she must have done sometime in the night. She grabbed a mug of coffee and sat down without a word, her eyebrow piercing catching the light. She looked tired, I thought, but she always looked a little tired lately.
"Izzy," I said, sliding the bacon onto a platter and bringing it to the table. "You sleep okay?"
"Yeah." She wrapped her hands around her mug, staring into it. "Fine."
The table went quiet for a moment. Just the clink of forks and the sound of Steph's soft humming. I sat down at the head of the table, and we all dug in.
"Alright," I said, "I want to talk about sleeping arrangements."
Zoe looked up, a piece of toast halfway to her mouth. "Uh oh."
"Not uh oh. Just logistics." I gestured with my fork. "Tiffany's staying for a while. We talked about it, and she's going to keep her stuff in the master suite with me."
Tiffany ducked her head, a blush creeping up her cheeks. She was so different now, this version of her that actually felt things. The old Tiffany, the one who'd treat sex like a transaction, had vanished somewhere between Vancouver and here.
"But," I continued, "we're also going to set up a room for her in the guest wing. So she can have some space if she needs it. Her own corner of the house."
Steph nodded slowly. "That's smart. Everyone needs their own corner."
"I like my corner," Tiffany said softly. She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "But I like yours better."
"We know," Zoe said dryly, and Tiffany's blush deepened.
"We should pick a room for her today," I said. "Maybe the one next to the media room. It's got the good light."
"I'll help," Izzy offered. Her voice was flat, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes. "I'll make sure it's set up nice."
"Thanks, Izzy." Tiffany smiled at her. "That means a lot."
We ate in silence for a while, and then Steph set down her fork with a clatter. "We need to talk about the baby."
The words hung in the air like a storm cloud. Izzy went still, her hand hovering over her coffee. Zoe looked down at her plate.
"The nursery," Steph continued, her voice softer now. "I'm due in a month. I need to start nesting, and I need to know where I'm putting the crib."
"The room next to mine," I said. "The one with the bay window. It's empty, it's got good light, and it's close to everyone."
Steph's eyes went wide. "The blue room?"
"Yeah."
"Ron." Her voice cracked a little. "That's my favorite room in the whole house."
"Then it's the nursery."
She pushed herself up from the table, all awkward grace and belly, and waddled around to where I sat. She wrapped her arms around me from behind, her bump pressing into my shoulder.
"Thank you," she whispered.
I reached up and squeezed her hand. "Of course."
"We'll need to paint it," Zoe said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. "Steph's been pinning nursery ideas for months. It's all forest animals and moons and stars."
"It's going to be beautiful," Tiffany said.
And for a moment, we were all just a family. Broken and strange and cobbled together, but a family.
After breakfast, I cleared the dishes while the girls drifted off to their various corners of the house. Zoe took Izzy by the hand and whispered something in her ear, and they disappeared down the hall toward their room. Tiffany said she was going to take a shower.
I was stacking plates in the sink when two warm hands grabbed my hips from behind.
I jumped, almost dropping the plate in my hand, and Steph's laugh rumbled behind me.
"Jesus, Steph."
"Shh." She pressed her chest against my back, her hands sliding around my waist. "Come with me."
"Where?"
"Just come."
She grabbed my wrist and pulled, her other hand bracing against the small of her back. She moved slow and deliberate, one foot in front of the other, but there was a determination in her stride. She led me down the hall, past the media room, past the bathroom, to a dusty room we never used. It was empty now, just bare walls and a window that looked out over the hills.
"Steph." I shut the door behind us. "What are we doing?"
She turned to face me, and her eyes were dark and hungry. "I've been watching you," she said. "With Tiffany. With everyone. And I've been lying in bed at night, thinking about you, and my cunt is practically dripping."
"That's the hormones," I said, trying to smile.
"No." She stepped closer, her belly brushing against my stomach. "It's not. I want what's mine, Ron. I want you to come inside me. I want my baby's daddy to fill me up."
My cock stiffened instantly. She reached down and cupped the bulge through my jeans, her fingers finding the outline of my shaft.
"Please," she breathed. "I need it. I need you."
I couldn't say no to her. Not like this, not when she was looking up at me with those pleading eyes, her face flushed with desire.
"Okay," I said. "Okay. But we need to find a position that works."
"My room," she said. "My bed."
"No, no. Here is fine. There's nothing in here." I looked around the empty room. "Let's try the floor."
She looked down at her belly, then back at me. "The floor?"
"Trust me."
I grabbed a throw pillow from the hallway, one of the decorative ones that were always scattered around. I tossed it onto the floor and got down on my knees, patting the pillow beside me.
"Come here."
Steph lowered herself carefully, her hands on my shoulders for balance. She settled onto the pillow with a heavy sigh, wincing as she got comfortable.
"Now what?" she asked.
"Now we get you on your side."
I guided her, helping her roll onto her left side. Her belly rested enormous in front of her, a heavy weight. I stretched out behind her, my chest pressing against her back, my arms wrapping around her. The curve of her ass pressed back against my cock, and I could feel the heat of her through my jeans.
"Like this," I said, reaching down to unbutton my jeans. "Spooning."
She moaned, arching her back. "Oh. Oh, that's nice."
I kicked my jeans down to my knees, my cock springing free. It was rock hard, the head already slick with pre-cum. I lifted her top leg, hooking it over my hip, and the angle opened her up to me.
"Ready?" I asked.
"Yes. Please, Ron. Don't tease me."
I pressed the head of my cock against her entrance and pushed inside.
Her pussy was a wet furnace, hotter than anything I'd ever felt. She cried out, a sharp, surprised sound, and her hand flew back to clutch at my hip.
"Oh my God," she gasped. "Oh my God, Ron. You're so thick."
"Too much?"
"No. No, don't you dare pull out." She reached back and grabbed my ass, pulling me deeper. "God, I've missed this. I've missed you filling me up."
I moved slow, so slow, my hips grinding against that round, heavy swell of her ass. Her legs spread wider, and I slid in deeper, feeling every inch of her. She was so swollen, so full of my child, and the thought of it made my head spin.
"Your cunt feels incredible," I said, my voice rough. "Like a fist gripping me."
She whimpered, clenching around me. "You're not so bad yourself, baby daddy."
I reached around, my hand splaying over her belly. I could feel the baby moving, little flutters against my palm. And underneath that, the rhythmic pulse of her pussy around my cock.
"Is he okay?" I asked.
"She's perfect," Steph moaned. "She's loving this just as much as I am."
"You think so?"
"I know so." She reached back and tangled her fingers in my hair, pulling my mouth to her neck. "Keep going. Don't stop."
I thrust into her, slow and deep, grateful that the angle worked so well. Her body was made for this, made for taking me. Her pussy squeezed me like a vice, and every time I bottomed out, she'd let out this little gasp that drove me crazy.
"Harder," she said. "God, please."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Fuck me harder, Ron. I can take it."
I cupped her breast, heavy and full, and squeezed. Her nipple was dark and sensitive, and I rolled it between my fingers. She cried out, her body bucking back against mine.
"Come for me," I said. "Let me feel you come on my cock."
"I'm close," she gasped. "I'm so close, Ron. Don't stop."
I grabbed her hip and drove into her, faster now, the wet sounds of our bodies echoing off the empty walls. She was grinding back against me, her pussy clamping down, and I could feel her orgasm building, a wave about to crash.
"Ron!" She screamed it, her body convulsing. Her pussy rippled around me, squeezing me so tight I saw stars. "Yes, yes, fuck yes!"
The sight of her, flushed and sweaty and pregnant and beautiful, sent me over the edge. I buried myself as deep as I could and unloaded, pumping thick ribbons of cum into her. My own groan filled the room as I emptied myself into her, my cock twitching inside her.
She collapsed against me, breathing hard, her hand reaching back to hold mine against her belly.
"Good boy," she whispered. "You gave me everything."
I kissed her neck, still deep inside her. "You asked for it."
She laughed, the sound giddy and loose. "I did."
We lay there for a long moment, tangled together on the floor of the empty room. Her body was warm against mine, and I could feel the baby kicking, little flutters against my palm.
"Ron," Steph said softly, breaking the silence. "I need to tell you something."
"What is it?"
"Don't worry about me." She turned her head to look at me, her eyes soft. "I'm not jealous of Tiffany. I'm happy for you. And I like how attentive Zoe is, I feel really taken care of. But Izzy..."
I waited.
Steph took a breath. "She's been quiet lately. Quieter than usual. And last night, when she came to eat dinner, she seemed... off. I don't know how to describe it. Just not present."
"She's been through a lot," I said. "Jessie leaving hit her hard."
"I know. But you should check in with her. Just make sure she's okay."
I kissed her forehead. "I will."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
She smiled, and it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Her pregnant belly rising and falling, my cum still leaking out of her. She was a mess, and she was perfect.
My cock pulsed somewhere deep inside her, emptying whatever fluid I hadn't given to Tiffany earlier.
Steph purred softly, our hands clasped on her belly. "I could do this five, maybe six more times."
I laughed, the sound vibrating against her back. "You're going to kill me."
"Would that be so bad?" She twisted her head to look at me, a wicked glint in her eyes. "Dying with your cock inside me, your cum soaking my cunt. There are worse ways to go."
"Christ, Steph."
She giggled, that girlish sound that seemed so at odds with the massive swell of her body. Then she sighed, content, her hand squeezing mine. "I mean it, though. I could stay here forever. This little bubble we've made."
"Me too," I said. And I meant it.
We lay there a few minutes longer, the afternoon light shifting across the bare walls. Her breathing evened out, and I felt her body soften against mine. My cock, still half-hard inside her, slipped out with a wet sound that made her laugh again.
"Messy boy," she said.
"You made me mess."
"Fair." She stretched carefully, wincing as she shifted her weight. "Help me up before I become part of the floor."
I scrambled to my feet, offering her both hands. She took them, groaning as I hauled her upright. Her dress had ridden up around her waist, and I could see my cum dripping down her inner thigh. She caught me looking and winked.
"Don't worry," she said, smoothing the dress down. "I'll keep it in me as long as I can. That baby's going to be swimming in her daddy's seed."
"That's a hell of a mental image."
"You love it."
I did. I pulled her close, my hands settling on the curve of her hips, and kissed her forehead. "Go rest. I'll check on Izzy like you asked."
"Good." She patted my cheek, a gesture so maternal it made my chest ache. "And Ron? Thank you. For this. For everything."
"Thank you for letting me be part of it."
She smiled, soft and real, and then she waddled out of the room, one hand braced on the small of her back. I watched her go, her silhouette framed by the light from the hallway, and I realized I'd do anything for this woman. For all of them.
I pulled my jeans back up and zipped them, running a hand through my hair. The house was quiet, save for the distant sound of the shower running upstairs. I found Izzy in her room, the door half open. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her lavender hair still damp from a shower she must have taken after breakfast. She was staring at her phone, unseeing.
"Hey," I said, knocking softly on the doorframe.
She looked up, startled. "Hey."
"Can I come in?"
She shrugged. "It's your house."
I stepped inside and sat on the bed beside her. "Steph told me to check on you."
"Did she." A ghost of a smile crossed her lips. "She's a mom already."
"She's worried about you. So am I."
Izzy set her phone down, her fingers lacing together in her lap. "I'm fine, Ron. Just tired. Jessie leaving, the holidays, the baby coming. It's a lot."
"It is a lot." I reached out and took her hand. "You don't have to carry it alone."
She was quiet for a long moment. Then, barely above a whisper: "Can I just stay here with you for a while? Not sex. Just... this."
"Whatever you need," I said.
We sat there, her hand in mine, the afternoon light soft around us. And for now, that was enough.
She didn't let go of my hand. Instead, she tugged, gentle but insistent, and I let her pull me down onto the bed with her. The mattress dipped, and suddenly we were face to face, her lavender hair fanning out on the pillow, her hazel eyes searching mine.
"Closer," she whispered.
I shifted, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her against my chest. She fit there like she was made for it, her head tucking under my chin, her breath warm against my collarbone. Her hand found its way under my shirt, her fingers tracing lazy circles on my skin.
"This is nice," she said, her voice muffled.
"yeah," I said. "It is."
We lay like that for a while, the only sound the distant hum of the house settling around us. I could feel her heartbeat, slow and steady, syncing with mine. Her fingers kept moving, absent little patterns on my stomach, and I let myself just exist in the moment.
"I don't know how to explain it," she said finally. "Everything is changing. Steph's having a baby. Tiffany's back. Zoe and I are... good, actually. Really good. But Jessie leaving left this hole in me that I didn't expect."
"Grief doesn't have a timeline," I said.
"I know." She tilted her head up to look at me. "It's just. I've never had this before. A family, people who care about me, a place that feels like home. I keep waiting for it to fall apart."
"It's not going to fall apart."
"You can't promise that."
"No," I admitted. "I can't. But I can promise that I'll be here trying to hold it together with you."
Her eyes went soft, something vulnerable flickering behind them. She reached up and touched my face, her thumb brushing over my jaw. "You're too good to me, Ron."
"I don't think I am."
"Shut up." She smiled, real and warm. "Let me have this."
I smiled back. "Okay."
She curled into me again, her leg hooking over mine, and I pulled the blanket up over both of us. The afternoon light poured through the window, painting the walls in gold. Her breathing evened out, and I felt the tension in her shoulders ease.
"Hey," I said softly. "Thank you for telling me."
"Thank you for listening," she said. "And for not making it weird."
"It's not weird," I said. "You're allowed to need things, Izzy. You don't have to be the cool girl all the time."
She was quiet for so long I thought she'd fallen asleep. But then she shifted, propping herself up on one elbow to look down at me. Her lavender hair fell around her face, and the afternoon light caught the silver ring in her eyebrow. She looked nervous. Really nervous, in a way I'd never seen from her before.
"I need to tell you something," she said. "And I need you to not make it a thing."
"Okay."
She took a breath. Held it. Let it out slow.
"I love you."
The words hung between us, fragile and raw. I opened my mouth, but she held up a hand, cutting me off.
"Not like... not in the white dresses and tons of babies way. Not like Steph, or even like Tiffany. I don't want to marry you or have your kids or any of that. I don't want to be your girlfriend. I don't want to be anybody's girlfriend, ever. Zoe gets that. She knows I'm not built for that."
She swallowed hard, her eyes searching mine for something I wasn't sure I had.
"But I love you. You're the first person who's ever just... let me be exactly what I am. No trying to fix me, no wanting me to be softer or warmer or more. You just take me as I come, and I don't know how to tell you what that means to me. I've never had that before."
Her voice cracked on the last word. I reached up, brushing that strand of lavender hair behind her ear.
"I love you too," I said. "Exactly the way you are. Not the way I wish you were, not the way I think you should be. You, Izzy. Just you."
Something broke open in her face. Her eyes went glassy, and a tear slipped down her cheek, followed by another. She blinked, like she was surprised by them, like her body was betraying her.
"Shit," she whispered, wiping at her face. "Sorry. I don't... I don't do this."
"It's okay."
"It's not." She laughed, wet and shaky. "I've never said that to anyone. Not once. Not to my mom, not to any friend, not to Zoe. And I just said it to you, and now I'm crying like a fucking idiot."
I pulled her down against my chest, my arms wrapping around her small frame. She buried her face in my shirt, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. I held her, one hand stroking her damp hair, the other pressed flat against her back.
"You're not an idiot," I said. "You're the bravest person I know."
She cried a little more, and I let her. Held her through it. The sun shifted across the room, the light going from gold to amber to something softer. Eventually her sobs quieted into sniffles, and she lifted her head, her eyes red-rimmed but clear.
"Thank you," she said. "For not running."
"Where would I run to? This is my house."
She snorted, a genuine laugh breaking through. "Asshole."
"Mm. But you love me."
"Yeah." She said it like it was a revelation. Like she was still turning it over, testing its weight. "I do."
I pulled her closer, tucking her head back under my chin. There was a looseness in her body now, a weight off her shoulders, and I could feel the smile against my chest.
"Don't get used to this," she mumbled. "I'm still allergic to feelings."
"Mmhmm."
"I mean it. This was a one-time emotional event. Non-recurring."
"Sure."
She pinched my side, and I yelped. "I'm serious."
"You're also very cute when you're trying to be tough."
"Fuck off." But she was laughing, and her hand found its way back under my shirt, tracing patterns on my stomach. She was quiet for a moment, then said, "So. I should probably schedule some time with you."
"Schedule?"
"Yeah." She tilted her head up, a glint in her hazel eyes. "I'll consult my secretary, see when we can fit you in. You're a popular guy these days. Tiffany's back, Steph's got you on baby daddy duty. I might have to book you three weeks out."
"I think I can squeeze you in."
"Generous." She poked my chest. "But not right now. Right now I just want to lie here and be a boring, non-fucking mess."
"Boring is underrated."
She hummed in agreement, settling back against me. The room had gone quiet again, but it was a different kind of quiet now. Lighter. Her breathing was slow and even, and I felt her fingers go slack on my stomach.
I thought she'd fallen asleep when she spoke again, her voice small. "Thank you, Ron."
"For what?"
"For hearing me. Not just the stuff I say. The stuff I don't."
I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Always."