"Angel, careful," Rhett calls out, unease gripping his chest as he watches his heavily pregnant wife dance on her steps down the elevated grassland and rocks.
He exhales a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding as she crouches beside the plunge pool at the base of the waterfall.
"Rhett, look what I caught!" Neva calls, a childlike glee brightening her voice.
He smiles at his wild-hearted Angel, thriving where nature blooms freely, as he sets the bag down on the moss-covered rock beneath the shade of the trees.
She carefully rises, her gaze lingering on the tiny, colourful bluegill swimming in her cupped hands as he approaches.
"What is it?" he asks, falling into step beside her.
"It just came right into my hands," she says with a giggle, ticklish as the fish brushes against her palms, swimming in its little pool of water.
He chuckles when her radiant, deer-like eyes lift to meet his, and unable to help himself, he gathers her into his arms and kisses her.
She pulls away, more a playful wriggle as she escapes the heat of him above the already-impossible summer sultriness. "Oh, the heat!"
A teasing grin curves across his lips as he cages her in his arms, peppering kisses across her warm face while she tips her head back, her protests dissolving into laughter spilling from her lips.
He finally spares her, pulling his T-shirt over his head as she takes a step back, her eyes lingering on the tanned, muscular perfection that is her husband.
"Like what you see?" He crosses his arms over his chest.
"So?" Her cheeks warm as she turns and crouches to let the tiny fish slip from her hands and swim away into the cold, clear water.
She rises, eager to soothe her overheated body in the heaven of cool, fresh water beneath the scorching August sun, when his arms wrap around her, pulling her close.
"So…" he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to her neck. "Have your way. I'm all yours."
A smile touches her lips as she slyly slips from his arms again. "Later," she says, before peeling off her white coquette damp blouse and shorts.
He trails after his gorgeous wife, not quite willing to rein in his impulses as she seductively steps into the water in her barely-there two-piece white swimsuit.
But she said later. So later it is.
A sigh of relief escapes her as she releases her bun, letting her curls spill down her back before she dives into the cool water. She swims slowly, soaking in the sheer bliss that sweeps over her entire being.
Before long,
she lifts her head from the water, beaming as she wipes the water from her eyes. "It feels so good!"
He still stands in the water, arms crossed over his chest, watching her with the focused eye of a coach.
Well, he has been her swimming coach for the past few weeks, and what a wonderful coach he is!
She has learned so quickly, and what a blessing it is to float weightlessly, carried by the grace of the water, with her eight-month-pregnant belly.
"You're getting better," he says, before diving in with the effortless elegance of an expert swimmer.
She watches in respect and admiration as he glides toward her, then passes by, seamlessly shifting into a backstroke and making it look impossibly easy.
"I want to learn it too!" Her voice echoes through the woods as she swims toward him.
He laughs, gliding farther into the deeper emerald-blue water, the sound blending with the roar of the waterfall.
"Wait for me!" she calls, already out of breath despite her success in staying in shape,
big belly aside, while he has already reached the heart of the mist-shrouded waterfall.
"Easy," he says, paddling back toward her, "don't rush."
She slows her strokes, and he reaches her, gently drawing her closer before guiding her farther into the cool water beneath the waterfall.
"Is it too deep down there?" Her gaze wanders toward the swaying trees above,
their branches casting artful shadows as sunlight filters through the canopy.
"Not too deep," he says, "but not shallow enough to stand."
Her arms instinctively wrap around him as he shifts her into his arms,
keeping them both afloat with nothing but the steady motion of his legs.
"Feel better?" he asks.
"I do." She presses a soft kiss to his cheek. "Thank you."
A smile curls at his lips. "Just one more month to go."
"I know," she murmurs. "How time flies."
"I can't wait to meet him or her," he says softly, "but now I don't think I'm quite ready to share you."
She chuckles, scooping up water and splashing it over his face.
A startled gasp escapes him before she slips from his arms, laughing as she swims away.
A grin spreads across his lips as he takes his time swimming after her.
Yet her eyes widen when she realises how close he has already come.
She turns to swim away again, but he catches her.
She squeals as he wraps his arms around her, laughter bubbling from her as he peppers her neck and shoulders with ticklish kisses.
Her hands press against his chest in a half-hearted attempt to resist before he kisses her. He pins her against the cold slab of rock, deepening the kiss until she, too, melts into the fevered pool of desire.
"Is the later, now?" His voice is low, his breath heavy.
A sheepish smile curls at her lips as she caresses his cheek.
He covers her hand with his and presses a kiss to her palm, then feels a familiar movement beneath his other hand, resting against her belly, round and full with their unborn child.
"What about the—" Her voice cuts off by the violent explosion,
followed by the frantic flutter of startled birds, their cries echoing through the erupting screams.
He pulls her toward him at once, a grim sharpness overtaking his gaze as he scans their surroundings.
"We need to leave." He grabs her arm, guiding her toward the shore as another explosion shakes the woods.
She wonders how she is moving at all when her body is paralyzed,
a demon sitting upon her chest, her faith so far away, far beyond the reach of her motionless fingers.