Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
PIVOT
DYLAN
The three of us are tangled together under the big white duvet, the sun falling across our legs from the window.
Dahlia’s head is on my chest, her dark hair spilling everywhere, and Chloe is starfished between us, one tiny foot jammed against my ribs, snoring like a little bulldog.
It doesn’t matter. I slept so hard that for the first few seconds that I’m awake, I forget all the drama we’ve been enduring.
When I glance at my nightstand, the clock says we’ve been out for almost three hours. Chloe’s still dead to the world. Dahlia stirs, stretches, and gives me a sleepy smile when she sees me watching her.
“Hi,” she whispers.
“Hi,” I whisper back, brushing hair from her face.
Chloe’s head pops up like toast. “I hungry!”
We laugh, because of course she is. She wakes up ready to eat before she’s barely opened her eyes. Dahlia says she’s always been like that.
We shuffle to the kitchen in our bare feet, still half-dreaming. I make grilled cheese with the crusts cut off for Chloe and a fancy one with tomato and basil for Dahlia. Chloe sits on the counter, legs swinging. Dahlia leans against me while I flip sandwiches. It’s quiet and perfect.
After we’ve eaten, some of our energy returns.
“I vote we do something fun this afternoon,” I say.
“Surf!” Chloe says, running to look out the window.
“Oh my goodness. I forgot to show you what I got for Chloe,” I whisper to Dahlia. “Before I bring it out, I should ask…how would you feel if I took her surfing?” I ask under my breath.
Her eyes go wide. “Isn’t she too little?”
“I’ve taught dozens of kids her age.”
“Really?”
I nod. Dahlia watches Chloe’s excited bounces as she watches the surfers outside.
“Are you sure it’s safe?” she asks.
“I promise. Do you trust me?”
“Yes. But scary things happen.”
“I won’t do it if you don’t want me to,” I tell her honestly. “But we’ll start out slow. She’ll have a life jacket on, floaties too, if that makes you feel better. I’ll be holding her the whole time, and we’ll take small waves. Nothing crazy.”
“She’d love it,” she says softly.
“Okay, I’ll be right back.” I grin and hurry back to my closet.
I come back with a gift bag and hold it in the air, waving it. “Chloe,” I sing, “I have a present for you.”
Chloe’s head whips around, and she runs over, her curls boinging. “Present?”
Dahlia and I both laugh. I hand her the bag. “For you, Princess Chloe.”
She does the little curtsy that I taught her after I started calling her Princess Chloe. Makes me laugh every damn time she does it.
I hand her the bag, and she pulls out the wet suit I bought just for her. It’s red with big white daisies. Dahlia and Chloe both gasp when they see it. I can’t stop smiling. I knew it’d be a hit.
“For me?” Chloe breathes.
“For you.”
“Thank you,” she whispers.
There’s also a life jacket and floaties in the bag, and everything else she’ll need, but she only has eyes for the wet suit.
“I put on,” she says. “I put on and surf?” And then, jumping up and down, “I surf with Dyyan!”
Dahlia laughs despite herself, hands on her hips. “Well, who can resist that? I’m getting ganged up on, aren’t I?”
“Big time,” I say, grinning.
“If you’re sure it’s safe. Go. Before I change my mind. Dylan?”
“Yeah?”
“Be so careful.”
“Precious cargo. I’ve got it.” I pause. “Better yet, you should come out with us.”
“I’ll work up to it eventually…maybe.” She grins. “Today, I just want to watch you two.” She waves her phone. “And take pictures. That is the cutest wet suit I’ve ever seen.”
“It had Chloe written all over it.”
That gains me a kiss, and then she goes to get Chloe ready while I put on my suit.
Ten minutes later, Chloe and I start our lesson on the sand.
First, I tell her how important it is to never go into the water without her mom or me with her.
Dahlia and I have been saying that over and over, and she hasn’t even tried to go outside without us, but it bears repeating.
I show her how to sit and lie on the board, how to pretend paddle, and how to jump on and off safely.
And then we’re wading out. She’s in the front, and I’m kneeling behind her, hands on her waist. We stay in knee-high water and both sit as I push us toward the first small wave. She loves it.
After a few runs of that, I think she’s ready for a little more.
“Okay, this next time, I’m going to pick you up and stand. You ready?” I ask.
“Ready!” she yells.
I take her a little farther out, and when it’s time, I pick her up against my chest, and we ride the wave all the way in. She giggles nonstop, and it makes the rest of this horrible week fade out of my mind.
I find Dahlia, and she’s beaming at us, phone up like she’s recording.
“Say hi to Mama,” I tell Chloe.
“Hi, Mama!” Chloe yells. “Again!’
We do it the same way four more times. Each time, she wants to go right back in.
“We’ve got a little surfer here,” I tell Dahlia.
“It’s unbelievable!” she says. “I’ve never seen anyone so little out there like that. I love it.”
“She’s a natural.”
The next time we go out, I tell Chloe to get on my back and hold on.
“Don’t let go,” I remind her. “You ready?”
She scrambles onto my back like a monkey, holding my neck so tight I can barely breathe.
“Ready!” she squeals into my ear.
I paddle us out again. When the wave lifts us, I pop up smooth, reaching back to grip both her little hands in mine.
“Don’t let go,” I tell her.
“Don’t yet go!” she echoes, voice high and fierce.
I grin. Dahlia and I have been happy that her L’s are still going in and out. Dahlia thinks maybe a “good mom” would be correcting her to teach her the right way, but I told her that’s bullshit. She’s the best mom and doesn’t have to worry that Chloe will be saying her L’s as Y’s as an adult.
Chloe’s whole body vibrates with excitement against my back. We glide in, straight and perfect. She cackles the entire way—pure joy.
When we step off the board, she throws her fists in the air like a champion.
“AGAIN!” she roars to the entire beach.
From the shore I see Dahlia—hand clamped over her mouth, eyes huge, but she’s jumping up and down like Chloe does when she’s excited. Dahlia runs to us, laughing and crying at the same time, wrapping us both in a hug that almost knocks us over.
“Amazing!” she says.
She grabs Chloe and kisses her salty cheeks and then turns to me.
“You two,” she says into my shoulder, voice muffled, “are going to be the death of me.”
The house is finally quiet. Chloe passed out mid-story, one arm flung over her unicorn, curls still damp from her bath. I kiss her forehead and Dahlia does too, and we back out of her room.
“Glass of wine and hot tub?” I ask once we’re in the hall.
“That sounds perfect,” she says.
“Go ahead. I’ll meet you out there with the wine,” I tell her.
We walk down the hall, and she grins at me over her shoulder as she slips her robe off. She tosses it on the couch, and I groan when I see that she only has a thong on.
“Don’t be long,” she says.
“Oh, you can count on that.”
She laughs and walks outside. I can see the glow of the hot tub lights through the glass doors, steam curling up into the cool night air.
I grab the bottle and two glasses so fast. When I step outside, Dahlia has sunk to her shoulders. Her eyes are closed, and her head tips back against the edge. Moonlight shines over her wet skin.
“Hey,” I say quietly.
She opens one eye and gives me a slow, sexy smile. “Thought you’d never get here.”
I pour our wine and hand her a glass, and then strip off my T-shirt and shorts in record time.
The water’s almost too hot when I sink in across from her, but it feels perfect after the long day.
She scoots forward immediately, straddling my lap before I can even settle.
Her thighs bracket mine, slick and warm.
“Hi,” she whispers again, this time against my mouth.
I kiss her back, lazy at first, tasting the faint sweetness of the wine. Her hands slide up my chest, nails dragging just enough to make me groan into her mouth. When she rolls her hips, slow and deliberate, I’m already hard against her.
“I like whatever you’re thinking,” I tell her.
She leans in, lips brushing my ear, and her voice is low and raspy. “Watching you surf out there, dripping wet, shoulders ripped…it does something to me.”
I grip her waist and pull her tighter. “Yeah? Tell me, Doll. You know how I love to hear everything you have to say.”
“I’ve been soaked since the second you stepped out of the water, your eyes finding mine…that smirk on your face like you knew exactly what you were doing to me. Couldn’t stop picturing you pinning me down and fucking me senseless the moment we were alone.”
I drag her down so she feels exactly how hard she’s made me.
“Been fighting this hard-on since you bent over to pick up that board wax,” I growl against her throat. “Knew the second I got the chance I was gonna spread you open right here and fuck you until the only word you remember is my name.”
She lets out a shaky laugh that turns into a moan when I grind up into her.
“Then do it,” she whispers, voice raw. “Fuck me until I can’t think, Dylan. I want to feel you tomorrow every time I move.”
“Goddamn, Doll. Your words are a gift.”
I don’t waste a second. I dip down to her breast, tongue flicking her nipple until she gasps and arches. Her fingers dig into my hair, holding me there. I slide one hand down and push her thong to the side. She’s slick, hotter than the water around us. Two fingers sink in easy, and she moans loud.
There’s a sound from the baby monitor, and Dahlia and I both freeze, ears alert. Chloe sighs and is quiet again.
I lift her just enough to line up, and she sinks down slow, taking every inch. We both exhale like we’ve been holding our breath for hours. She starts moving, rolling her hips in that way that makes my vision blur at the edges. Water sloshes over the rim with every thrust.
I grip her ass, guide her harder, faster. Her head falls back, throat exposed, and I bite down just below her jaw—gentle but possessive. She clenches around me in response, and I swear under my breath.
My hand slips between us, fingers circling her clit while she rides me. The sight of it—her tits bouncing, water glistening on her skin, the little sounds she’s making—it’s so fucking good.
“Look at me,” I say.
Her eyes snap open. She’s close; I can feel it in the way she’s tightening, the way her breath stutters.
“Mmm, that’s it. You feel so good,” I murmur, thrusting up to meet her. “Let me feel you shatter around me.”
That’s all it takes. She comes hard, a broken cry muffled against my neck, her whole body shaking. I follow seconds later, buried deep, groaning her name into her wet hair as I pulse inside her.
We stay like that, wrapped tight, breathing hard. The jets hum around us, bubbles tickling our skin. Eventually she lifts her head, kisses me soft and slow.
“How did you manage to turn this day around?” she whispers. “I’m in awe of you, Dylan Whitman.”
I bury my hands in her hair and kiss her hard.
“I’m so in love with you,” I tell her.
After long, lazy kisses, we climb out of the hot tub and rinse off in the outdoor shower. Our hands are in a constant state of exploration. Then we rush inside, dripping and laughing.
Round two starts the second we hit the bed.