Chapter 18
MOLLY
I don’t know why it feels this easy with Jeff, but I’m floating on air as we drive the short distance from the high-end grocery store into a really nice neighborhood, and at the end of a quiet street, into an even nicer gated community with bricked streets and luxurious, private landscaping that mostly obscures the homes.
A little tremor of you don’t belong here ripples through me as he parks in front of a large, Spanish-style mansion.
It can be our home if you like it.
Who wouldn’t like this? But at the same time, I can’t just move in here. People would talk.
Suddenly, I don’t want to record any more of his day. I don’t want anyone else to know this part of his life, that might be my life too.
He opens my door, then we carry in our groceries together. He disarms the security system, telling me a code I’m not going to remember because my head is spinning taking everything in.
His house is gorgeous but empty enough that our voices echo as he leads me through to the large, open kitchen at the back of the house. Huge windows reveal a backyard big enough to have a putting green on one side, a pool on the other, and beyond that is a lake surrounded by other mansions.
I definitely don’t belong here.
He sets the grocery bag he’s carrying on the pristine granite counter. I follow suit, my hands trembling slightly. The kitchen is beautiful, all stainless-steel appliances and custom cabinetry.
“Are you hungry?”
“Not yet.”
“I’ll just unpack, and then give you a tour.”
Putting the groceries away is super easy because his fridge is empty.
“I’ve been gone for ten days,” he says, a dark-red streak appearing at his cheekbones. “It’s not always this pathetic.”
“What? No. Your house is beautiful.” My voice hitches. Darn.
Jeff pulls me close, his hands on my hips. “But?”
He searches my face, those perceptive eyes missing nothing.
“It’s just …” I gesture vaguely at the expanse of luxury around us. “This is a lot.”
“It’s better when Sinclaire and Silas are here.” His vaguely embarrassed expression turns fond, even though he doesn’t like it when I call him Grandpa.
“How often do they visit?”
“They were here a lot over the winter. Now that summer has come to the ranch, I don’t expect to see them until the fall.
But we’re on video calls all the time. I’ll want to introduce you to them sooner than later.
” His thumbs slide under my t-shirt, rubbing my belly, and I realize what he’s thinking.
This house is a family home, and if we’re going to continue having unprotected sex, at some point soon he’s going to tell his daughter that she’ll have a sibling, and that would probably go better if it’s not also the time he tells her that he accidentally married a woman younger than her.
“This is all very real suddenly,” I whisper. “How about you show me around?”
Relief flashes across his face. He takes my hand and leads me through the first floor—a formal dining room that’s never been used, a home office that looks like it’s used more than I expected, with baseball memorabilia on all the shelves, a large whiteboard covered in notes that feel current, and piles of paperwork littering the desk.
Even the computer monitor, which was left on while he was away, has a recent team photo as the screensaver.
On the desk are three World Series rings in a display case, gleaming under the soft lighting. I move closer, drawn to them.
“Go ahead,” Jeff says. “You can touch them.”
I pick up the oldest one carefully. It’s heavier than I expected, ostentatious in that very specific championship ring way. I check the year engraved on the side. My stomach does a little flip. I wasn’t even born yet when he won his first World Series.
“That was the year Sinclaire was born,” he says, coming alongside me.
That little flip in my stomach turns into a complete free fall of feelings.
“Your daughter’s older than me, then,” I say, trying to make light.
A weighty silence follows.
“It probably should bother me,” he says slowly, roughly. But then he wraps his arms around me fiercely. “The age gap should make me feel like a dirty old man. But you feel so right in my arms, like I’ve been waiting to hold you my entire life.”
He turns me around, keeping me tight against him, keeping me in the solid band of his embrace. His gaze is so intense it takes my breath away. “I know we’re at different life stages. I know that most people will have something to say. Hell, I thought my attraction to you was wrong at first too.”
“Did you?”
“God damn it, Molly, I wanted you from the first moment I saw you. The way you challenged me and brought that spark of energy we needed at exactly the right moment. It was intoxicating. And it took everything in me not to seek you out every day.”
“I tried to get time with you every day,” I protest. “And you were dodging me!”
“Because I was afraid that if I took that meeting, I’d wind up between your gorgeous thighs, your ass on my desk and my tongue in your mouth,” he growls. “I knew how that would look. I knew that was inappropriate.”
“But now …?”
“Now you’re my wife. That grants me certain privileges. And I can’t make myself care about what people would think, not when I know how excited you get when I do get between your thighs.”
I giggle.
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs. “My horny, needy, sexy girl.”
“I am,” I admit. “I like everything about you. Including that you’re older than me, if I’m being honest. I was drawn to you from day one too. When it’s just the two of us, it feels so right. But when you mentioned your daughter …”
“She’s an important part of my life. And so is my grandson.” He rests his forehead on mine. “They’re going to have some adjustment period thoughts about you too, I bet. It’s all right if we ease into that part. We can keep this just for us for a while.”
I press my lips against his, kissing him until his grip on me tightens and his thigh slots between my legs, making me whimper.
When we break apart, he gives me a heated look. “Want to see the rest?”
“Yeah.”
Upstairs, he shows me a suite of guest rooms where his daughter and her family stay when they visit. Soft, brightly colored toys spill out of bins in one corner, and a cowboy hat hangs on the headboard. A nod to the fact that his daughter lives on a ranch far away now.
“When they visit, I never hear Silas cry at night,” he says as he guides me down a long hallway to the other end of the house, where he has his own suite.
“Is that because he’s a very good baby?”
He laughs. “Probably. But the sound proofing in this house is excellent. When they visit, we’ll close the door.”
And then he sets his hands on my hips and guides me to his bedroom.
A king-sized bed dominates the large space.
It’s neatly made, but clothes are draped over a chair in the corner, and books with cracked spines are stacked on the nightstand.
There are signs everywhere of Jeff living in this space, way more than the kitchen.
There’s even a pair of well-used running shoes waiting for him on a treadmill in front of a window overlooking the lake.
“We can move that out of here. I have a gym downstairs too, but I like the view from up here. And it’s easier to get a run in first thing if it’s right in front of me when I wake up. But waking up to you would be even better.”
He tumbles me onto the bed and stretches out on top of me.
“This is a lot to process,” I murmur.
“Let’s take it one thing at a time.” He kisses the corner of my mouth. “How does the bed feel?”
“Good.”
“Good? We can do better than good.” He brushes his lips against the other corner, his breath warming me from the inside out. “This is how I want to spend my days off this season. Turning you on, making you ache … Are you going to put that on my socials?”
“Never, Coach …”
“That’s right. This is just for you.” His mouth trails down my jaw, to my neck, and his hand works up and under my t-shirt. “Nobody else needs to know how hot my good girl gets.”
So, so hot and bothered in the best way.
Suddenly, we’re grinding against each other. His cock is a big, hard brand between my legs, even through multiple layers of clothing, and I’m about to beg him to get inside me when a noise from downstairs makes us both freeze.
“Dad?” a woman’s voice calls out. “Are you here?”