And I drop the towel.
I climb on the bed like a predator, my intentions as naked as my ass. She squeaks when I lean over her, cold droplets from my hair dripping on her collarbone.
“You’re wet,” she breathes in a husky whisper.
I lick my bottom lip and skim my hand across her soft skin, down between her legs, where she’s already slick and wanting from watching me.
“So are you.”
I take my time and make slow, easy love to her, that ever-present passion simmering just below the surface. Then, after, it’s rough and loud—she’ll have bruises on her hips tomorrow and I’ll have scratches down my back. We fall asleep above the covers, our heated flesh more than enough to keep us warm.
The day may have been shitty . . . but the night was as fucking perfect as you can get.
? ? ?
May, Sunshine, Mississippi
Jenny’s truck pulls up the drive of my parents’ place, and as soon as the tires stop, Presley bursts out of the passenger side. “Hey, Daddy! Hey, Sofia!”
She hugs us both long and sweet.
“You look like you’ve grown three inches since I saw you last.” That was over spring break, when she stayed with us in DC.
With her arm over my daughter’s shoulders, Sofia looks down at her and asks, “You want to go horseback riding?”
Presley nods, and I just grin, teasing. “Someone thinks she’s quite the equestrian.”
Sofia twists her middle and pointer finger together and adorably insists, “Blackjack and I are like this. We have a whole mental thing going on—he understands me.”
I’m still laughing as I jog to the truck to help Jenny out. “Hey.” I kiss her cheek and give her a hug. Or, as close to a hug as I can, considering the size of her stomach. “Damn, Jenny, you’re gigantic.”
She frowns. “Why don’t you go to hell and die, Stanton? What kinda thing is that to say to a pregnant woman?”
“A truthful kinda thing. I don’t remember you bein’ so big with Presley. You sure there’s not two in there?”
She rubs her eight-months-pregnant belly. “No, just the one. One’s enough—and I’m gettin’ drugs this time.”
I chuckle. “Not if Nurse Lynn’s there, you’re not.”
Sofia hugs Jenny in greeting. “We would’ve come to your house to pick her up.”
Jenny waves her hand. “Nah, it’s good for me to get out. I’ve been nestin’—the floors are so slippery clean, JD said he’s gonna put up hazard tape.”
We catch up for a few minutes, then Jenny leaves and we head to the stable. Presley walks in front of us, and I hold Sofia’s hand as she walks beside me.
“So . . . you ever think about that?”
“About what?”
I jerk my head in the direction Jenny just left.
“A baby?”
“A baby,” I say.
“You and me?”
“Well . . . I’d be pretty pissed if it was you and someone else.”
She laughs. “Stanton, I’m trying to make partner.”
“I know.”
“And you’re trying to make partner.”
“True.” We walk silently. Then I lean closer to her, guessing, “So that’s a yes, then?”
She grins. “Yes . . . I’ll think about it.”
I give her her favorite lopsided grin. “Good.”
Sofia holds up a finger. “But not now.”
“No.”
“Make sure your sperm is aware of that. It has a history of going rogue.”
I nod. “I’ll send the sperm a memo and CC your ovaries.”
She nods. “But soon.”
“Soon is good.”
I swing our joined hands. “We should probably get married first.”
Sofia stops, staring at me. “Are you asking?”
I turn, cupping her jaw, tracing her beautiful lips. “Darlin’, when I ask, you won’t be wonderin’ if I’m askin’.” Then I kiss her sweetly. “But it’ll be soon.”
She smiles, big and blinding. “Soon is good.”