what now? | outerbanks

• twent-nine •

John B.

    "What would baby John B. do if you told him he was waking up next to a naked Sarah Cameron?" Sarah's face is inches from mine, our legs tangled together as she groggily asks me her question. I weave my fingers gracefully in and out of her flowing, natural waves, and the brown in her eyes turns golden as the morning light seeps through the weathered blinds.
"I think," I begin, tapping a finger on my chin and provoking an amused laugh from Sarah's mouth. "He would probably punch me in the face and call me an idiot." Sarah hums as I speak, a look of genuine enthrallment strewn across her face. "And then he'd drive home smiling like a doofus at the thought of a naked Sarah Cameron."
    "Is that so?" She closes the space between us and kisses my lips sleepily, the affection nevertheless apparent. "I'm hungry," she says, pulling the covers to her neck and sitting up against the wooden headboard.
"Well, why don't we get up and out the house; get you fed? Can't have a hangry wife ruining the honeymoon."
    "You don't even know," she warns, getting out of the covers and wandering around the room to find clothes. I don't get up, not yet, but instead watch her figure as she sways back and forth, blinking out of it when she stops suddenly.
    "John B, stop watching me and start getting ready to go," she says with a hint of finality, never feeling the need to look back at me. I would usually banter, but this time I easily comply, rolling from the bed and walking myself to the bathroom.
    We get ready, and I make sure to take my time so that Sarah doesn't feel like she's taking too long, her routine a lot more extravagant than mine. The house we're staying at comes with its own bikes, and we ride the rocky, sandy roads into town to stop for breakfast.
    "Mm, this is delicious," Sarah mumbles, her mouth concerningly full as she fills up another forkful and shoves it into my mouth for me to try. I shoot her two thumbs up in agreement.
    "Not as good as your cooking," I flirt with puckered lips once I've swallowed the large bite, and Sarah blushes in response. My mind wanders over the past couple of months, picturing Sarah as she'd swayed in the kitchen, hair wrapped up in a bun and a linen apron tied around her neck and waist. She was true poise and grace.
    "Wow, such a flirt. Do you like me or something?"
    "Something like that." I shrug my shoulders and wink, and my wife giggles, pulling me in for a kiss. This is the life.

We spend the rest of the day exploring town and toeing our way around shops and markets, and though it's not too enchanting for me on its own, being able to watch Sarah blissfully sort through treasures is joyful enough.
    After a long day, as the sun begins to slump into the horizon, the two of us decide to take a nice break on the beach. Sarah buries her feet in the sand and then wiggles her toes in my direction to fling the grains all over me, causing me to flinch rapidly.
    "Sarah!" I scold, watching as the girl throws her head back in unbothered laughter. "You're getting sand all over me; I'm going to have to shower."
    "I'll join!" She jokes, and I hit her lightly in the shin. "What?! I can say that now; we're married."
    "Yes, we are," I hum lovingly, hovering halfway over her and pressing a slow, youthful kiss on her lips.
    "You know what we need?" She leads, sitting up so that I have to get off of her.
    "What?" I kiss her shoulder and trail my lips up and down her arm as she giggles through her words. She shrugs me off before she speaks again.
    "We need a drink. Or, drinks. Multiple of them."
    "I think," I say while pulling Sarah by the waist and rolling her on top of me, the girl squealing and kicking her feet rapidly. "I think I can get behind that." I kiss her all over, and she tries to prod her way out of it, but I'm unrelenting.
    "What do you think JJ and Kie are doing? Pope and Cleo?" She asks when I finally let her catch her breath.
    "You know, the point of a honeymoon is that it's all about us," I hint, winking, drawing mindless swirls in the powdery sand.
    "I know, but I miss them already," she says with a frown, hitting my heart as I take in just how much she loves them.
    "Well, Pope and Cleo haven't checked in yet, but JJ texted that Kie sprained her ankle, so," I trail off, watching the girl's face drop in terror.
    "Wait, what? When? Is she okay?" Her breath quickens and her expression twitches as she bites roughly on her bottom lip.
"I didn't tell you last night because I didn't want you to freak out, but she fell on the dock and twisted it pretty bad. They didn't go to the hospital or anything, but Pope says it's not broken and should be better in a few weeks. She'll be fine."
"She was drunk, wasn't she?" Sarah asks plainly, and I can see the corners of her mouth ever-so-slightly inching into a smirk. I nod, confirming her accusations, and we fall into a fit of laughter.
"Well, let's try our best not to get matching injuries," I say, standing up and grabbing Sarah's hands so I can pull her up too. "Ready?"
"Mhm, and thirsty," she beams, excited for the new phase of our journey.
As we walk up the sand to the sidewalk, I speak unimportant, jumbled stories to Sarah, looking over when I notice her attention is caught by something else. It's a young woman, a small baby carefully placed on her hip, walking through the sand and pointing animatedly up to the sky. She turns in our direction, and the baby looks at Sarah with the widest of grins, her youthful, green eyes and long eyelashes ever present in the orange of the setting sun.
"Hi, baby," Sarah coos, wiggling her fingers at the baby, crouching a little so she's more on her level. "You're so cute!" The lady thanks her, and Sarah pays the baby a little more attention before we make our way back to our bikes.