Give Me Butterflies (Oaks Sisters #1)

Chapter 36

Finn

Millie’s breathy whimpers ring through my ears as she writhes above me. My hands dig into her hips, and I grind up into her

wet warmth, all of her swollen softness wrapped tightly around me. She looks down at me with a knowing smirk before she twists

her hips and—

Pepper’s loud whines from outside the bedroom door wake me from the best dream of my entire life.

Damn it.

The pressure in my dick is tenting the sheet over me, and there’s no hiding it. Millie’s soft, even breaths puff against my

chest, and she has an arm and a leg thrown over me like she’s an octopus wrapping me in her tentacles so I never get away.

Like I would want to be anywhere else right now.

What happened last night between Millie and me was earth-shattering. It was a cataclysmic event that there’s no going back

from.

And I never want to.

I coast my fingers over her arm, not wanting to wake her, but needing to feel her warm skin again. Her hand shifts and lands

right over my heart, palm pressed into my chest, and I feel like the luckiest man in the universe.

She’s done something to my heart that I wasn’t expecting, yet somehow it feels like it was the plan all along.

Her legs stretch out against mine, and she yawns as she lifts her head.

“Hey, you,” I whisper.

“Good morning.” She smiles sweetly, pressing a kiss to my lips.

“How are you feeling?” I run my hand over her bare hip, and she gives a contented sigh, stretching out on her back across

the bed. My body automatically follows, like a magnet drawn to its opposing force. I’m still hard from my dream and ready

to re-create it with her.

Her eyes sparkle with amusement when I lean closer and leave a kiss over her heart.

“I’m feeling”—she bites her lip—“hungry.”

I suck her nipple into my mouth, the firm peak pressing into my tongue as she rolls her fingers over my scalp.

“Well, we can’t have that.” I kiss her lips, coaxing them open for me. A deep groan rumbles through my chest as I tilt my

head, desperate to consume more of her.

As I’m about to dip my hand between her thighs, her stomach grumbles with a loud, hungry moan.

Her cheeks pinken with embarrassment, and I laugh as I kiss her stomach. “Oh, you meant hungry ?”

“Yes, I’m starving, apparently. Let’s eat a breakfast fry jack and then pick up donuts to surprise the girls.”

If I wasn’t already obsessed with this woman, that right there would’ve sealed the deal. She wants to bring Avery and Eloise

a treat, and they’re going to love her for it.

***

“I want the one with pink icing and sprinkles,” Eloise demands, eyeing the blue box of donuts as she follows me into the kitchen.

Gabriella greets us from the sink, where she’s washing out the espresso percolator. “I didn’t expect you home so early.” She

purses her lips and squints in my direction.

Setting the box of donuts on the kitchen island, I lean in to kiss her cheek. “Millie wanted to bring the girls a treat.”

“Ah, I see.” She nods. “She must’ve worked up an appetite,” she murmurs with a sassy wink.

I chuckle as I wrap an arm around her shoulder. “Thanks for staying the night.”

Leaving them overnight was easier than I thought it would be. It felt good for me to get a bit of distance and spend some

time out of caretaking mode. I’m sure I’ll have to keep psyching myself up for it, but a short break has brought me back refreshed.

Millie makes it into the kitchen, dragging a leg the whole way with Avery clinging to it.

“How were the girls?” I ask Gabriella, making them two cups of milk.

“They were good. Weren’t you, girls?” She opens the box of donuts for Eloise and hands her one on a plate. “They helped me

bake a cake last night, and then they went to bed easily. They were perfect little angels.”

I ruffle the top of El’s head and kiss her cheek. “I’m glad you guys had fun.” I bend to pry Ave off Millie’s leg. “Are you

only excited to see Millie? What about me?” I ask, tickling her sides until she’s laughing and forced to release her grip.

Then I swing her over my shoulder and set her on a barstool.

“How was your date?” El asks in a singsong tone, with pink icing smeared across her cheeks.

Grabbing a chocolate donut, I lean against the counter and flash Millie a grin. “It was the best date I’ve ever been on.”

Millie steps next to me, and I offer her a bite. “My favorite part was the bookstore. I even snuck a few books in the basket for you two,” she tells them.

I shoot her a questioning look. “That was your favorite part?” Leaning in so only she can hear, I ask, “Out of everything

we did last night?”

She hip-checks me and lowers her voice to murmur, “My favorite part—”

“Are you getting married now?” Avery wonders.

I choke on my breath, and Gabriella snickers as Millie tries to hold back a laugh behind her hand.

“When two people love each other, they get married. Then they can kiss and have babies,” Eloise chimes in.

Millie splutters, bending at the waist in a coughing fit.

I pat her back as I bite my lips to keep from laughing. “Thank you, Eloise. That’s helpful.”

Once her breathing returns to normal, Millie straightens and pastes on a bright smile. “I have something fun we could make

today. Do you girls want to do a craft with me?”

The art of distraction. Perfect.

***

I would be happy to never set foot in another craft store again in my life. As soon as the doors slid open, irritability prickled

up my spine. I’d never been to a land ruled by glitter and yarn and stickers, and the longer we were there, the more pressure

I felt escalating into a headache.

Who knew there were so many different types of paper? And why do they need five aisles to choose from?

Fortunately, Millie could sense my rising frustration. She simply patted my hand and told me to follow her as she navigated through the aisles of bright colors and patterns without losing me or the actual children. She tossed white T-shirts and socks, tie-dye kits, a package of kids’ gloves, and a bag of five hundred rubber bands into our basket.

Then, to my immense relief, we left the craft store of chaos and went in search of burgers for lunch before turning our backyard

into an explosion of tie-dye. All of our shirts and socks are now soaking until tomorrow when we can rinse and wash them.

“How are my girls doing?” I ask as I approach the three of them playing their new card game at the kitchen island.

I don’t miss how Millie’s eyes flare at the words “my girls,” and I make a note to use it more often. Because she damn well

is my girl, and maybe if I say it enough times, she’ll believe it.

“We’re great.” Eloise beams at me. “I won the last round, and I’m probably going to win this one too.” She does a little dance

of excitement in her seat.

“Remember what we talked about, piccola ? Nobody likes a bragging winner.” I narrow my eyes at Millie.

She lifts a shoulder with a smug grin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I would never brag about winning.”

“Sure, Miss Victory-Lap-Around-the-Table.”

“Mmm, I like stella mia better. It’s easier on the tongue.”

Fuck, she’s laid it right there for me. It’s so tempting to make a retort about how easy she is on my tongue, but little ears

are present, so I press my lips together and make a mental note to tell her later.

Avery swoops in to win the game, and we all help get the cards back in the box. El and Ave run upstairs, and I slide my arms

around Millie, kissing her warm neck. She melts into my body, and we breathe each other in for a stolen moment.

“I’m making you dinner,” I say, pulling away from her and dropping a tender kiss on her lips. “You take a bath or read, or

whatever you want, and I’m going to make us a feast.”

“Really?” She sounds a little skeptical.

“I’ve been your apprentice long enough,” I say with a wink. “I want to make something for you, and I want you to relax while I do it.”

She nods as I kiss her again, and a little chorus of ooohhhs erupts from the top of the stairs.

***

Sliding the toaster next to the oven, I lean my phone against it and find the YouTube channel of the dad I’ve been watching

cooking videos from. His kids usually join him, and it’s adorable listening to their Australian accents as they cook. In this

lesson, he’s showing us how to make steaks, scalloped potatoes, and steamed broccoli.

I’m wary of the girls liking this meal, but if all else fails, I have some chicken nuggets in the freezer for them.

I slip my apron over my head, and get to work, the girls drifting in and out the whole time. They help me by sprinkling a

little too much salt on the steaks and dropping a few potatoes on their way into the dish, but in the end, I’m impressed with

the dinner we’ve made together.

As I’m setting the potatoes on the table, Millie appears at the bottom of the stairs in my black sweatpants and Catan Battles

2009 shirt. She’s swimming in them, the fabric of the sweatpants bunched at her ankles and rolled at the waist, but she looks

perfect.

One side of her lips kicks up. “Hope this is okay. I didn’t want to put on the same clothes, and I found these in your drawers.”

She holds her arms out and does a spin.

I approach her and slide one finger into the waistband, feeling her silky skin warm the back of it. “Does that mean there’s nothing under these sweatpants?” I whisper, and the blush across her cheeks gives away her answer. I wrap my arms around her shoulders, inhaling the scent of my soap on her skin. God , I could get used to this. “I love seeing you in my clothes. Wear them every day.”

“I’m pretty sure Sharon wouldn’t be promoting me if I showed up to work in this.”

“Then wear them every moment you’re not at work,” I tell her as I guide her to a spot at the table and pull out the chair.

“This looks amazing,” she says, taking her seat.

“I burned a bit of the cheese on the potatoes.”

“Well, I believe burnt cheese is an underappreciated delicacy,” she says, eyeing the dish with a brown scar across the top.

Eloise approaches the table with a wary look. “Do I have to eat that green stuff?”

“Broccoli is good for you, so I think you should give it a try,” I tell her as I sit down.

“When I was little, my sisters and I pretended they were trees,” Millie says, serving herself some potatoes and passing me

the dish. “We used to talk about the fairies that lived under them and what they did for fun or what they were eating for

dinner.” She holds up a piece of steamed broccoli and squints at it. “Can you imagine how tiny the fairies would have to be

if these were trees?”

Eloise and Avery follow her example, putting a piece of broccoli in front of their noses to examine the imaginary fairies.

They’re likely still reluctant to eat it, but maybe playing with it is a good first step.

Millie cuts into her steak and closes her eyes around the first bite. “You did so good.” She shakes her head in disbelief.

“You’ve come a long way from your cooking disasters a couple months ago. You nailed this.”

“Thanks,” I say, appreciating the sight of her enjoying the meal I made for her.

Throughout dinner, I can’t keep my eyes from drifting to her. We’ve had a handful of meals together in this room, but today it feels completely new. Like I’m seeing things clearly through a new pair of glasses after years of blurry vision.

And I want to see this view forever.