“Marcy,” Sarge groaned. “Tell them to stop teasing me.”
The little phenom responded by sliding off her chair and rounding the table to climb onto Sarge’s knee. Her elbow dug into his stomach, upsetting the food mountain residing there, but the discomfort was worth it. River brought out dessert a few minutes later. Sarge only managed a bite before tapping out, content to watch Marcy get more chocolate cake on her face than into her stomach. By the time she was finished, her eyes were half closed, head lolling to the side in obvious exhaustion. It was the best dinner Sarge ever had.
“Jas, can you get Marcy’s teeth brushed and put her in bed?” River stood and began clearing the table. “I’m going to get these into the dishwasher.”
“You got it.” When Jasmine stood beside Sarge’s chair, he handed over the sleepy child, his throat aching when they had to pry her fingers from around his shirt collar. Something passed between him and Jasmine when their eyes met, but he had no idea what it was. Or what it meant. He only knew everything about the moment felt good. Felt right. And he wanted to do it all over again tomorrow.
There was no stopping his watching every step Jasmine took up the stairs, carrying his niece on her hip, but as soon as she disappeared upstairs, Sarge went to help River in the kitchen.
“So listen…” she started, covering leftovers and storing them in the fridge. “I know it’s short notice and probably a lot to ask—”
“What is it?”
River leaned back against the counter. “There’s a church service at Holy Cross on Christmas Eve. I helped organize the potluck dinner afterward at the school gymnasium across the street, and…” She tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “Would you bring your guitar and play a song or two?”
Sarge’s eyebrows damn near hit the ceiling. “My songs aren’t exactly church-friendly, Riv.”
“I know.” Pink stained her cheeks. “You could sing a Christmas song, though. You know. Instead of a sex one.”
“A sex one.” He shook his head. “I thought I knew the meaning of weird. Until tonight.”
His sister snapped the dish towel and caught him in the thigh. “Just think about it, okay? You’re one of the lucky ones that made it out of Hook. It makes you kind of a big deal.” She turned back to the sink. “Now, go kiss your newest admirer good-night. And I’m not talking about Jasmine.”
“Right.” Rubbing the back of his neck, Sarge pushed through the swinging door of the kitchen and ascended the stairs. He reached the landing just in time to catch Jasmine walking out of Marcy’s room, index finger over her lips with a warning to stay quiet. His flare of disappointment over missing his chance to say good-night to Marcy was eclipsed by a righteous punch of hunger when Jasmine hesitated in front of him. As if she wanted to head back downstairs where it was safe, but couldn’t quite ignore their being alone again. Not about to let that hesitation go unrewarded, Sarge nudged her back against the hallway wall, gratified as hell when her mouth fell open in a husky pant.
“Not here.”
Sarge wondered if she was aware of her hands fisting in his T-shirt, yanking him closer. “Where, baby?” he muttered against the top of her head. “You want to pull the car over a block from here and mount me on the passenger seat? Or wait until we’re somewhere I can spread you out and eat you first?”
“Dios. I don’t know,” she breathed, making him pull back to scrutinize her face. She raked her teeth over that pouty lower lip, stiffening his cock. “We just had dinner with your sister, and, well…it reminded me that you’re too young for me, Sarge.”
“Why can’t my being younger work to our advantage?” Sarge asked, tugging her away from the wall, sliding a palm down her rounded backside. He gave the taut flesh a firm squeeze, lifting her up and against him, groaning at the back of his throat when the vee of her thighs notched over his rising erection. Sweet fuck. Her leggings made her as good as naked in this position, allowing him to feel the separation of female flesh, the smooth skin on either side. He hadn’t been this horny since…that morning. Then again outside on the walkway. How much more of this could he take before ripping her mother-loving clothes off, not a damn given to their surroundings?