Chapter 15 Brooks
Brooks
The first thing I registered when I woke was softness. Smooth, supple skin plastered against mine, a cascade of blue-black hair spilling across the pillow and tickling my chin, the soft curve of her ass nestled against my hips like she’d been made to be there.
She had, even if she didn’t know it.
I had lost myself in Dani’s softness half a dozen more times last night.
First, in the shower, with her moans echoing off the tiles.
Then again with her bent over the bathroom vanity, turned toward the mirror so we could both watch her tits bounce with every punishing thrust of my hips.
And once more, after our three a.m. snack in the kitchen.
While she ate the last of my vegan mac and cheese—slathered in pickle juice—I ate her pussy, laid bare on my kitchen island.
Every place in this house felt like it had her scent, her sounds, her body stamped into it now. And yet, with the morning light seeping through the blinds and her ass tucked tight against my cock, all I could think about was how ready I was to start all over again.
I pressed forward just enough to hear her sleepy little hum, the kind that went straight to my balls. Her hand slid back blindly, finding my thigh and squeezing.
“Mm, good morning,” she murmured, voice rough with sleep.
“Morning.” I kissed the back of her neck, grinding into the slick heat of her, and fuck, it would have been so easy to slide right back in. “You hungry?”
She laughed low, husky. “Are we talking about food or your dick?”
“Both? Either?”
Her laugh buzzed against my chest, and I buried my face in her hair, breathing her in. She smelled like sleep and sex and the faintest trace of my body wash. Mine. Every part of her was mine, and I was hers, even if we hadn’t put words to it yet.
She shifted against me, rolling her hips back just enough to tease me with that sweet friction. “You know what I really want?”
“Tell me,” I said, my hands gliding over the gentle swell of our baby, tracing the place where our daughter grew, before drifting up to cup her breasts.
She arched into my palm, gasping softly when I rolled her nipple between my fingers. “A nice, big, juicy helping of . . .” She paused, lips curling in a wicked grin over her shoulder. “Blueberry pancakes. With extra butter. And bacon. Lots of bacon.”
I groaned, half in frustration, half in amusement. “Kitten, you can’t talk about bacon when I’m this hard. That’s cruel and unusual punishment.”
Her laugh was low and husky, vibrating through me. “Priorities, coach.”
“Fine,” I muttered, grinding into her just enough to make her gasp. “But after pancakes, I’m eating you again.”
I smiled against her shoulder, about to prove to her just how serious I was, when—
The front door opened.
Dani stiffened in my arms, twisting to look at me with wide eyes.
“Oh, shit,” I muttered, every ounce of blood draining straight from my cock.
The unmistakable pitter-patter of little sneakers hitting hardwood echoed down the hall. “Daddy!” Carolina’s bright voice carried through the house, seconds before my bedroom door creaked open.
With barely enough time for me to roll out of bed and slip my discarded jeans up and over my bare ass, I tugged the comforter up and over Dani’s shoulders just as my daughter appeared, her backpack still hanging off one shoulder.
“There you are!” She beamed. She stopped dead when she saw Dani in my bed, then looked at me with all the blunt honesty only a kid could pull off. “Miss Dani?”
Dani made a strangled noise and yanked the blanket up to her chin. Her cheeks flushed for reasons Carolina couldn’t possibly guess. “Hi, Carolina.”
If my daughter thought it was odd that one of her dad’s coworkers—the “pretty lady with the good snacks”—was sitting in his bed first thing in the morning, she didn’t show it. Instead, she darted across the room like a bullet, dropping her backpack with a thud.
“Daddy, can we make pancakes? The lemon-blueberry ones, like last time?”
Over her head, Dani’s eyes found mine.
Blueberry pancakes. Jesus.
I bit back a laugh.
“Sure, cutie,” I said, ruffling Carolina’s curls. “We can do that.”
A polite throat-clearing in the hallway had me freezing in place. Allie. My ex-wife leaned against the doorframe, keys dangling from her hand, her gaze flicking from me—shirtless, half-hard under my jeans—to the woman hiding under my comforter.
Her brows arched. She didn’t look mad, more amused than anything, actually. Which was somehow worse.
“Well,” she said lightly. “This is . . . new.”
“Allie—” I started, but Carolina was already bouncing in place, tugging at Dani’s hand.
“Dani, you have to help us. Daddy always burns the first batch.”
Dani’s nervous laugh cracked, and I could see the panic flaring in her eyes. She didn’t know whether to stay or run.
I stepped in quickly, squeezing Carolina’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go pull the stuff out of the pantry? We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Okay!”
Carolina skipped out, humming happily, backpack abandoned. The second she was out of earshot, Allie’s arms crossed over her front.
I exhaled, raking a hand through my hair. “Can we, um, step outside for a sec?”
“Uh-huh.”
Allie didn’t move right away. Her gaze flicked from me back to Dani, whose knuckles were white against the comforter bunched at her collarbone. Then, to my absolute horror, Allie smiled. Not the sweet, beaming smile I remembered from the early days of our marriage, but something sly and knowing.
“I guess I should at least say hello before I get dragged into whatever this is.” She stepped closer, extending her hand toward the bed. “I’m Allie. Carolina’s mom. And you are . . . ?”
Dani’s eyes widened like she wanted the mattress to swallow her whole. Nonetheless, she lifted a hand free of the blanket and shook Allie’s, her cheeks redder than the Roasters’ jerseys. “Dani Bernal, social media manager for the Roasters.”
Allie shot me a look. “And you said you would never date a coworker,” she teased.
Blood roared in my ears. “Allie—”
She lifted her caramel-colored hand, cutting me off with that same amused calm. “Relax, B. I’m not here to give you grief. Just . . . surprised.” Her mouth twitched, fighting back a smile as she flicked her gaze between us again. “Walk me to my car.”
Dani made another small, strangled sound, and I shot her an apologetic smile. Then, with one last suspiciously friendly glance in Dani’s direction, Allie turned on her heel and headed for the stairs. I followed her out, pulling the door gently closed behind me, heart still hammering.
Allie’s boots clicked softly on the stairs as we made our way down, her silence somehow heavier than words. I trailed just behind her, my pulse still thundering. Carolina’s chatter carried faintly from the kitchen—drawers opening and shutting, the thud of a chair dragging across the tile.
Allie pushed open the front door, stepping onto the porch like she needed fresh air just to process. Her car sat at the edge of the driveway, still idling. She leaned against the porch railing, arms crossed, watching me with that same bemused, sharp-eyed look she’d had upstairs.
“You know,” she said finally, “when I suggested you get back out there, I didn’t expect—” She gestured vaguely toward the upstairs window. “That.”
I blew out a slow breath, bracing one hand on the porch post. “I know. And trust me, that isn’t what you think it is.”
“Really?” Her eyebrow lifted, tone somewhere between skeptical and curious. “That wasn’t your daughter walking in on you and a woman, naked in your bed?”
“No, it was,” I admitted, meeting her gaze head-on. “But it’s more than that, Allie. Dani isn’t just a random fling.”
Her lips parted, just slightly. “Okay.”
My throat tightened, but I forced the words out, low and certain. “She’s pregnant. With my kid.”
For a beat, all I heard was the wind shifting through the trees and Carolina’s off-key humming inside my kitchen. Allie blinked once, then twice, like she needed to make sure she’d heard me right.
“Well,” she said finally, her voice dry but not sharp. “That’s . . . a hell of a curveball, Brooks.”
“I know,” I admitted. My pulse was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.
“I didn’t exactly plan for it either. But I’m all in.
I want this baby with Dani. But you need to know that nothing is going to change with Carolina and me.
She’s still my priority, my whole damn world.
That’s never up for debate.” I paused, jaw clenched.
“This doesn’t take away from that. It adds to it. ”
For a minute, she just looked at me, like she was weighing every word. Then her shoulders softened, her lips tugging into something that wasn’t quite a smile but wasn’t disapproval either. “You couldn’t just hook up with some rando from a dating app like the rest of us, could you?”
I huffed out a laugh that came out half-relief, half-nerves. Allie was one to talk. She and her live-in boyfriend, Mitchell, had met on a dating app marketed toward artists, and they were still together, two years later.
“You know I don’t do casual well.”
“I do.” She gave me a long look, then added, “You look different, B. Lighter, happier.”
The weight in my chest loosened a notch. “I am. I didn’t plan for any of this, but Dani— She matters to me.”
Allie nodded, her braids sliding over her shoulder as she tilted her head. “You’re sure about this? About her?”
“Dead sure,” I said without hesitation. “This isn’t just about the baby. I want her in my life.”
Her lips parted like she wanted to argue, then pressed into a thin line.
I could see the wariness there, but also the trust. Because if there was one thing we had always managed, even when everything else between us had fallen apart, it was showing up for Carolina as a team.
There was no reason for this to be any different.