Hey Baby

Lights and Camera? Where's the Action

I had so much makeup on that I was sure that I'd need a shovel to remove it this afternoon. Of course Lincoln, being the pretty boy he was, didn't need much makeup outside of what he needed for lighting. It was a little insulting having them completely alter my look, but Lincoln insisted it wasn't that I wasn't beautiful, it was that photos tended to kept out unflattering if the right amount of makeup and pampering hadn't been done.

The only Brightside to the entire shoot was the beautiful sheer pink maternity dress they'd put me in despite my bump hardly showing. It hardly covered my body outside of where it closed over my bra; the rest of the dress just fell around me, and by the time they'd put me in the first pose, I was sure that my half naked body was about to be on magazine covers and dozens of articles online and I wasn't sure how to feel about it. What I was sure about, was that the way they positioned me, there was no doubt my bump would appear bigger from the angle they were shooting from.

Halfway through the shoot, Lincoln must have felt my uneasiness because he leaned in as they rested my hand against his chest and whispered, "I've been holding in a fart for over an hour."

It was possibly the most immature, childish thing he could say but it got to me and I started laughing so hard that I was sure I was going to pee myself. Because with his restrain on releasing his flatulence was the pain in my stomach from needing to pee.

"Love that shot!" the photographer, a pretty, petite blonde woman said from where she was crouched and angling the camera. "The smile lights up your entire face, Arielle."

I looked to Lincoln again and felt warmth spread through my cheeks when I saw he was already staring at me. "What?"

"Nothing." he muttered, and though he was smiling, it didn't meet his eyes as it had seconds ago.

"No, you don't get to do that." I poked his chest. "Tell me."

He trained his eyes straight ahead so they could take another picture. Once we'd regained his sight from the flash, he looked back to me and said, "You just look beautiful, that's all."

"Are you insuiating I don't look beautiful all the time?" I joked.

"It has nothing to do with the makeup." he didn't catch the joking in my tone. "I just haven't seen you smile like that since I've been back. When you do, it's like you're glowing, if that makes sense?"

I looked back to the camera, knowing very well pink was tinting my cheeks and rested my head against his chest so the photographer couldn't hear when I said, "That was such a dorky and corny thing to say. But thank you."

*

I nearly tossed my heels off the terrace once we got back to the penthouse. Instead I dropped them on the pretty Persian rug Monae had bought a couple days ago and had Lincoln rearrange his whole living room to put in. I had to hand it to her, it did tie the room together more, as did the paintings hanging from every wall around us now. She should try her hand at interior decorating, not that I'd tell her that, because I know she'd be on my back with the baby's nursery if we decided to have one.

"You hungry?" Lincoln asked as he slipped out of his tux. "I was going to order some pizza, but I can order you something if that doesn't sound good."

"When have I ever said no to pizza?"

He didn't need further explanation and walked away and into the kitchen while I laid down on the couch, still in the dress from the photoshoot, and scrolled through Netflix. I couldn't settle on anything, so I put on a rom com I'd seen half a dozen times and reached for the blanket draped over the back of the couch. By the time Lincoln wandered back into the room, I was crying over a dumb scene, and though he knew my feet were extended where he was about to sit, he sat anyway. The action made me smile and I tucked my feet behind me so he had room on the edge of the couch.