37. Public show
Public show
Wade
This is a first.
Never before have I woken with a woman in my arms. Everyone prior to her always left before the night was done.
Or I did.
But this? This is how it’s supposed to feel, being wooed back to consciousness with her warm breath fluttering over my arm, the lull of her even breathing like a gentle metronome that paces with my heartbeat.
Being able to touch her, pull her against my body in a complete embrace…This is the best thing I think I’ve ever experienced.
Trying to resist her is a waste of time. My fingers curve over her hip to snug her ass against my already aching cock.
“Mmm,” she moans faintly, curling her back to press harder. Stretching, her shoulder slides down my chest so she can see me with one squinted eye.
Then she reaches up and pulls me in for a lingering kiss. “I promise I won’t breathe on you.” A sideways smile dances over her puffy lips.
“I don’t give a shit about that.” Framing her face with my palm, I turn her back, leaning in for another taste.
An abrupt knock on the door makes us both freeze.
“Hey, sorry! How do I turn on the stove? I’ve never used one like this.” Cynthia’s voice carries through.
Elena giggles. “I’ll be out in a minute!”
“Thank you.” Cynthia’s shadow shifts, then her footsteps fade.
“She’s making breakfast?” I whisper, tightening my grip on Elena’s naked skin.
“Since she was seven and I had to go to work. It was safer than Mom cooking.” She rolls her eyes.
A twinge goes through my gut making me loosen my hold.
I never would have thought Maria would end up like that.
“Don’t worry about ‘Thia. She makes the best scrambled eggs you’ll probably ever have.” Jerking her head up, she plants a fast kiss on my nose before flinging off the sheet.
With a growl, I manage to catch her around the waist and pull her back before she can escape. “Yours are the only eggs I’m thinking about scrambling this morning.”
She squeals with laughter, slipping away. “You keep talking like that and they’ll be permanently fertilized.”
I thread my fingers behind my head, fixated on her naked form. The soft swell of her hips. How her breasts bead in the cool morning sun.
But it’s her smooth lower belly that really draws my focus.
What will she look like pregnant?
My dick tents the fabric between us at the thought. “One of these days—”
Her fists prop on her waist as her lips purse.
Yet her eyes drift to the elevated linen covering my legs. “Then you get to explain how our baby would not only be Cynthia’s sibling, but also that she’s their aunt.”
Shit. My dad is gonna have a field day with that one.
“Good point. I’ll practice my speech.”
She raises her finger to point at my groin. “While you figure that out, I’m going to pee.”
When she disappears, I manage to tuck my softening dick into my jeans and shrug on a t-shirt.
As much fun as it would be to stay in bed all day, there’s also a part of me that wants to get to know my daughter.
Padding into the kitchen in bare feet, I notice her room is open. With a light tap on the door, I glance in to see her folded over a notebook, shading a new drawing.
She looks up, and I swear my heart stops when she gives me a broad smile.
“Hi, dad.” She tosses her sketchpad to the side and jumps up.
“Morning,” I barely croak past the sudden lump that has formed in my throat. “Elena tells me you’re quite the cook. She’s pretty amazing too, so that’s a huge compliment.”
“Oh man, I missed her chicken wraps. They’re the best! I was going to make breakfast, but every time I turned on the burner it just clicked. I was afraid I broke it.” She brushes past me to lead me to the counter where she already has eggs, bacon, and toast pulled out.
“It’s gas. Out here, the power can go out for a while sometimes.” I show her how to ignite the flame and adjust it.
“Just be sure this is all of the way off, or it’ll leak.” I point to the small detector on the ceiling. “And that thing’ll start squawking at us.”
She purses her lips and nods. “I’ll be careful.”
As she starts breaking shells, I head to the coffee pot.
It’s hot.
“I hope you don’t mind that I made it too?” Her genuine look of concern rattles me.
“No, it’s great. It’s just—” I’m not sure how to word it, so I busy myself with pouring a cup.
Damn, it’s good.
Exactly how Elena makes it.
“If you don’t like it, I can change it.” Cynthia hurries as her arm churns into the bowl.
“Easy, now.” I pull out one of the chairs from the table so I’m not towering over her.
“‘Thia—” The word feels a little foreign. “—you don’t have to earn your place here. That’s never going to change.
Do I appreciate you wanting to pitch in?
Absolutely. But I want one thing clear from the beginning. ”
Her chin trembles until she bites her lip as she watches me.
“This is your home too . Unconditionally, okay? We can all work together to make it a happy one.” I take another sip, hoping she understands what I’m trying to say.
“Okay,” she says quietly.
Fortunately Elena appears, whisking through the kitchen like a dancer to wrap her arms around her sister before dropping a quick kiss to the top of her head. “Ugh! I almost thought it was a dream that you were here.”
“Nope, you’re stuck with me.” Cynthia gives me a tentative smile, almost as if she’s accepting the truth.
“Damn right.” Elena raises to her tiptoes to pull down a mug.
Her and those tiny shorts are gonna be the best kind of death of me.
Then she sets down her steaming drink next to mine and settles in the chair close enough to rest her hand on my thigh.
Ah, a public show of affection. Her small gesture lightens the tension in my shoulders knowing I don’t have to hide.
When they’re both sitting at the table, after all three of us enjoyed the most amazing scrambled eggs I’ve ever had in my life, I lean back and pat my belly. “Well girls, business or pleasure first?”
“Business.” Cynthia sets her fork onto her plate.
“Pleasure,” Elena says at the same time, giving me a seductive wink.
“Shit,” I grunt. Opposites. Will it always be this way? “I guess I’m the deciding factor. Business it is.”
Cynthia juts her chin towards her sister with a snort.
“I wouldn’t gloat quite yet. You’re the one who’s gonna be stuck with most of it.” I almost laugh at her immediate look of panic.
“I have your case file being sent to me. It’ll probably be here in the morning.
But I really need you to look at a couple of pictures and tell me if you recognize the man who sent you to Nancy’s place.
” I thread my fingers around my cup, letting my mouth drop into a frown.
“It’s going to be more important than ever that I can identify who it is before he chooses to retaliate. ”
“Wait—” Cynthia glances towards Elena. “—what is he talking about?”
Elena takes a long breath. “It has to do with why I have the ankle monitor. There was a very awful man who used your location as bait to make me do some things that, um, I’m not proud of.”
“He wasn’t afraid to try and escalate. I want to keep you both safe.” Reaching behind me, I pull out the familiar stack of folders from the cupboard, then flip through until I find the photos I need of Max and Cade.
“I’ve narrowed it down, I think, to these two men.” Sliding them past Elena, Cynthia picks them up and stares hard at each.
Elena and I exchange a look as Cynthia goes back and forth.
“I don’t know. The only guy I saw had scars on his face.” She looks up at me with her brows knotted in confusion. “Neither of these guys have ‘em.”
Well, hell on a stick.
That blows all of my theories completely out of the water. “There weren’t any others? A driver maybe? Someone who came by before or after you were moved?”
Cynthia’s lips thin in concentration as she peers at the images again.
But she shakes her head. “Like, I guess either one if the side of their face was all messed up.”
She pushes them to Elena, who hands them to me. “I’m sorry. Did I screw up?”
“Nope. I’d rather you’re honest. Just means I have to do better.
” I tuck the prints back into the folder.
“Maybe later we’ll go through some more pictures to see if any of them look familiar.
But we can do that after we go shopping.
We can get some stuff for your room, and you’ll need clothes and supplies for school. ”
Her caramel colored eyes brighten and she jumps up, quickly reaching for our plates. “Did Elena tell you I won an art award in third grade? I wonder if this place has a competition?”
“I have no idea, but I bet you’ll win another if they do.” I’m already proud of her.
This time, her smile is wide and genuine. “Thanks, dad.” Color tinges her cheeks while she turns to the sink.
A bolt of heat grips my chest at her words.
Damn. I never knew the impact of how immediate the bond could be.
Elena pats my thigh, then stands and presses a kiss to my temple. “I have to move my stuff out of her room,” she whispers against my skin, riffling her fingers through my hair.
My house was empty and quiet just a few months ago.
Barren.
Suffocating.
Now I’m surrounded by family and my heart has never felt so full.
I’m starting to understand Mason more and more.