Charlie

 

 

Jack Brighton? Well, holy shit. That’s a name I hadn’t thought of in a hundred years. After we’d exchanged contact details and the butterfly guy had told me he’d be in touch when they were coming, I called Greg to let him know what was happening. Then it was dinner time, then bath and bedtime for Milly, and by the time we were ready to hit the hay ourselves, I still hadn’t told Travis.

“What is it, Charlie?” he asked after I closed our bedroom door. He was sittin’ on the edge of our bed, all long-legged-like, with a smug smile. “I know you’ve got something you don’t want to tell me.”

I leaned against the bedroom door and sighed. “It’s about the butterfly guy.”

“What about him?”

“Actually, it’s about his husband?”

“He’s gay?”

“Well, I dunno. But he’s married to a guy, so he ain’t exactly straight, Trav.”

Travis chuckled. “Fair enough. What about his husband?”

“I know him.”

“So?”

“From Sydney. We went to uni together. A lot, if you know what I mean…”

I could see the second he put the pieces together. Me. Sydney. Uni. He’d once said my uni days sounded like I’d slept with the entire gay population of Sydney, and I’d joked that I thought some were possibly straight… Yeah, that kind of we-went-to-uni-together.

Travis raised one of his eyebrows in a perfect arch. “A lot?”

I cringed. “There weren’t many that were repeats, if you know what I mean. But he was one of them.”

“One of the guys you slept with a lot when you were at uni is coming here? With his husband?”

I frowned and nodded. God, this was a bad idea.

Travis stared at me for a good long second before he busted up laughing. He laughed so hard he fell back on the bed, and then he laughed some more.

I stalked over to him and knelt on the bed so I was straddlin’ his thighs. “It’s not that funny, Trav.”

He could hardly speak he was laughing so hard. “Oh my God, Charlie. It’s hilarious.”

I poked at his chest. “It’s not funny. It’s embarrassing. They’re coming here, and it’s gonna be awkward as hell.”

He waggled his eyebrows and grinned. “Maybe his husband’ll suggest a foursome?”

I took a hold of his hands and roughly pinned them to the mattress above his head and leaned down so my nose was almost touching his. His eyes were full of mischief and heat. “No one touches you but me. And the only man who’ll ever touch me is you.”

He hummed. “I do love it when you get all possessive.”

Still pinnin’ his hands to the bed, I rearranged us so I could spread his legs with my knees. I rocked into him, our jeans makin’ the most delicious friction. “How possessive do you want me to get?”

Trav grinned like he’d won first prize. “I want you to ride me like you stole me, Charlie.”

I laughed and kissed him when there was a tiny knock on our bedroom door. Not tiny-soundin’, but tiny as in the hands that did the knockin’.

I bit back a groan and climbed off the bed. Before I opened the door, I did a double-check that me and Trav were both respectable enough for innocent eyes. I pulled back the door to find Milly in her PJ’s, her reddish, copper-coloured hair in loose curls down her shoulders, and her offsider in her arms. “What’s up, pumpkin?”

Milly looked up at me with her huge brown eyes. “Nugget can’t sleep.”

I looked at the wombat. He blinked at me, did his nose-twitchin’ thing, and I swear the little bugger smiled. “Are you sure it’s Nugget that can’t sleep?”

Milly nodded.

“Want me to read him a story?” I asked.

She grinned, just like the one Trav’d given me earlier, and ran into our room. She barrelled up onto the bed, never letting go of Nugget, and landed herself right in the middle of our pillows. Milly grinned. Nugget grinned. I sighed, and Travis laughed.

“What about your bed?” I asked. “I’m pretty sure four-year-olds are old enough for stories in their own beds.”

Milly just snuggled down and pulled the blankets over Nugget. They both looked at me expectantly. Waiting. Nose-twitching. Smiling.

It was hard to be mad when she was so stinkin’ cute. “Okay, Milly-moo. Which book?”

Trav walked out with his pyjamas in his hand, smiling from ear to ear. And so, instead of one-on-one daddy time, the four of us―me, Trav, Milly, and Nugget―spent the next hour reading A Wombat’s Diary fifty-seven times.

Now, I know it’s not the same as bein’ intimate with my husband, and that was something I’d truly never tire of, but nights spent in bed reading picture books to a giggling gorgeous girl and a snuffling, wiggling wombat would forever be my favourite.

Trav carried a sound asleep Milly back to her bed, and I took a disgruntled Nugget, who burrowed right back in beside her when I put him in her bed. Some kids had a teddy bear or a blankey. Milly had a Nugget.

Trav leaned in and kissed her forehead, I turned out the lights and closed the door as quiet as I could. Ya know, in all my years of sneakin’ in around Ma tryin’ to get away with shit I shouldn’t have been getting’ away with, I never did know the art of bein’ quiet until Milly was born.

Puttin’ her down to sleep was like puttin’ a ticking bomb to bed. Trav was always better at it than me; those big skilled hands of his could carry a glass grenade without breakin’ a sweat.

We tiptoed back to our room and Trav closed the door and both of us breathed in relief. He took my face in his hands and kissed me with smiling lips. “She’s the most precious thing, but damn, how can she not need sleep?”

I pulled off my shirt, then undid my jeans and kicked ’em into the hamper in the corner. It was late now, and the playful mood between me and Trav had simmered to a quiet, sleepy air instead. And that was okay too.

We climbed into bed, and I found my comfy spot nestled right into Travis’ side, his arm around my shoulder, my face on his chest. “So,” he started before pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “What’s the plan with the butterfly guys?”

“Well, I told them we were outta time, so they said they can get here on the weekend.”

“Wow, that’s fast.”

“Yeah, hopefully they can identify the butterfly and get whatever paperwork they need to get done so Greg can stop the pipeline.”

Travis gave me a squeeze. “Let’s hope so.” We were quiet a while and my eyelids and mind were heavy with sleepin’. “Do you reckon we’ll need to camp out with them?”

“I already pre-warned George and Ma we might need to do that, yeah.”

“For how long, do you reckon?”

“Dunno. How long does it take to find a butterfly? Didn’t take you long.”

His chest vibrated as he laughed. “It’ll be getting colder soon. Means campfires and joined sleeping bags.”

I smiled and sighed as Trav’s arms tightened around me. “Sounds good.”

“Do you reckon the butterfly guy and your ex’ll mind if we get some personal time in while we’re camp-side?”

I snorted. “He’s not my ex. We were never… like that.”

“Friends with benefits?”

“Barely even friends. Just… benefits.”

Travis chuckled and kissed the top of my head. “I’m looking forward to meeting him.”

I put my head up so I could see his face. “Does it bother you? That someone I’ve had… benefits with will be here?”

Trav just shook his head and grinned. “It’s my ring on your finger, Charlie. It’s our daughter asleep down the hall, and it’s me you beg for and my name you whisper.” He sighed, content and sleepy. His accent was always thicker when he was tired. “I know damn well who you belong to. And you do too.”