Free Defining Moments by Andee Michelle

moment, inhales sharply, and begins to cough and choke again.
    Nice, Ellie.
    I jump up to pat his back again, but he holds up his hand to stop me, and I can’t make out if he is laughing or trying to say something in between the coughs.
    When the coughing finally settles down, he is definitely laughing.
    “Did you just ask me if I know what a MILF is?” he snorts out.
    “Yes, I did. Eli said something about it the other day but wouldn’t tell me what it meant. Said I’d have to Google it, but I keep forgetting to,” I smile, thankful I’ve managed to change his mood.
    “What did Eli say?” he asks, still laughing.
    “I’m not telling you unless you tell me what it means,” I retort.
    “I don’t know if you really want to know that, Ellie.”
    “I do want to know.”
    “It doesn’t mean anything. It stands for something,” he laughs out.
    “Okay, smarty-pants, what does it stand for?”
    He watches my face closely, smiles, and replies, “Mother I’d like to fuck.”
    And I immediately feel my face turn bright red and I lower my face into my hands. I hear Cord laughing, but I can’t bring myself to look up.
    “And I’m going to guess from your reaction that you really didn’t know what that meant,” he chuckles.
    I shake my head without looking up at him.
    “Now, tell me what Eli said about a MILF,” he snorts when he says the word again.
    “Oh no, no way. It’s too embarrassing,” I chide.
    “Let me guess. One of your boys said something about one of their friend’s moms and referred to her as a MILF,” he implores. “Am I right?”
    I shake my head and point my finger to my chest.
    “He said his friends think I’m a MILF,” I choke out, and then laugh hysterically.
    But I don’t hear laughter from him, so when my eyes meet his and find him staring at me with such a serious face, I’m afraid I upset him somehow.
    “What’s wrong?” I ask him quickly.
    He shakes his head like he’s clearing the cobwebs, and asks, “Why is that so funny, Ellie?”
    “Look, Cord, I don’t kid myself into thinking I’m attractive to young men. I’m almost thirty-nine years old and have the body of a woman with three children. I’m sure the boys’ friends were just trying to get a rise out of them, which I’m sure worked. They are very protective of me,” I tell him.
    He doesn’t smile, but assesses me like he’s waiting for me to cry or something.
    “Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask.
    “You really have no idea how beautiful you are, Ellie,” he replies with a small grin. I shake my head gently.
    “Well, thank you,” I say with no feeling, quickly trying to figure out how to change the subject. “So, why do you go by Cord instead of Saint?” I question.
    He smiles and shakes his head, knowing I’m uncomfortable and changing the conversation.
    “When we were kids, we all got picked on a lot for our names,” he begins. “I eventually got tired of it and started going by Cord.” He doesn’t meet my eyes when he says this and it makes me wonder if he’s telling me the whole truth.
    “And so when were you going to tell me you were the owner of the restaurant?” I smirk at him.
    “I was going to tell you tonight at dinner, but I figured Bishop and Lil Bit let the cat out of the bag when they called me Saint,” he laughs. It’s not lost on me that he says Sami’s nickname with adoration. They must be close.
    “Little Bit?” I smirk.
    “Yeah, as if you can’t tell, she’s the tiniest thing, but don’t let that fool you. She’s a force to be reckoned with.”
    I have no doubt about that. Bishop seems like a lot to handle.
    “Have they been together a long time?” I ask timidly.
    “Long enough to produce the five most beautiful little girls you could ever lay your eyes on,” he laughs.
    “Holy shit, they have five girls?” I choke out.
    He laughs while shaking his head.
    “Lord help that woman. How old are they?” I ask with genuine curiosity.
    “Well, the