Chapter 16
Byron
Byron sat, cradling his coffee between his hands as the rain poured.
After clear skies all day, it had started as a sprinkle a little after lunch, fat raindrops leaving a melodic clatter on the tin roof.
Clayton had dropped the monster trucks Emory had borrowed from the library to stare up at the ceiling, and as if on cue, the crashing intensified.
It was so loud, Byron could barely hear his own thoughts, although that was probably a good thing.
He needed a break. Needed to stop thinking of Emory in the study.
He barely used the room. Maybe once a week, he’d been in there checking off the admin for the farm and keeping an eye on his investments.
He’d grown quite the portfolio over his years of running this place, always keeping his options open in case farm life suddenly wasn’t for him.
So, he was glad the room was getting a bit more use.
That, and he couldn’t stop seeing Emory behind the desk. She was nestling her way into his home, his life. And he loved it almost as much as it hurt to know it was temporary.
With the rain coming down as heavy and as often as it was, they were going to be trapped in this house for a while yet. Maybe even longer than the week he had planned for. But it was all going to end eventually.
Clayton dropped a monster truck onto the couch beside Byron’s lap. “Papa?”
Carefully, Byron shifted the coffee mug into one hand and away from Clayton’s grabby fingers.
“This one for me?” he asked, picking up the deep purple truck.
Paint had chipped away in more than a few places, and the plastic roof had collapsed.
Such were the joys of borrowing well-used and much-loved toys from the community library.
Byron figured his own sons might have played with this small purple truck, once upon a time.
Tucker and Jaxon had loved racing anything with wheels around the house.
He shrugged off the thought of his eldest son. Byron didn’t want to think about what Jaxon might think if he had any inkling of what Byron and Emory wanted to do. Of what they were going to do if Byron got his way.
Nothing filled the empty pit in Byron’s gut when he thought of his estranged son.
He’d grown used to it, for the most part, but it still gnawed inside him.
Even so, it wasn’t worth stressing over Jaxon.
He made his bed a long time ago, and Byron had hardly heard from him since.
Chances are, he’d never even find out about the flood, let alone the sleeping arrangements of his ex-girlfriend.
Didn’t make it easier for Byron, though, to give in knowing what was at stake.
Whatever minor chance he had of reforging a relationship with his son down the track, Emory was going to be a wedge between them.
No matter what happened in the next week.
Jaxon had done her wrong, and Byron was realising more and more how much right she deserved.
Byron gulped at his coffee, letting the liquid wash away his reckless thoughts. Once the mug was empty, he dropped it to the table and stood up to play in Clayton’s game.
Following his grandson around the room, Byron steered his toy around the obstacle course. Clayton cheered as the trucks crashed together in one final heap. The two continued playing as the rain got heavier and heavier. The sky grew so dark, Byron got up to turn the lights on.
Emory’s silhouette in the doorway shocked him. How long had she been watching them?
“You’re good with him, you know? Better than me.” She held back her tight smile, pressing her lips together. Byron wanted to reach out and press his thumb between them, forcing out the smile she fought against.
His fingers twitched, but he resisted, reaching beside her to turn on the overhead lights instead.
“Much better than me,” Emory continued, still watching her son. She hadn’t looked at Byron yet. If she had, she might have noticed the way his eyes were trailing her collarbone or the way he pulled his lower lip between his teeth.
“I doubt it.”
Emory looked at him then, and shoved his shoulder with her tiny hand. “I mean it. I hate playing with him like that. It’s so … monotonous. Boring. God, that makes me a terrible mother, doesn’t it?”
“No,” Byron said, giving in to temptation and cupping her cheek. “It makes you human. It’s pretty boring to me too, but look at the smile on his face. That’s worth it.”
“Yeah, it is.”
Byron took a chance and stepped closer, right into her space. Emory’s breasts coasted along his chest as she inhaled.
“You know what else is worth it?”
“What?” Her breath was raspy, but then again, so was Byron’s.
“You.”
Fuck everything else.
Leaning his body over hers, Byron tilted Emory’s head up.
The movement caught her by surprise, and her mouth dropped into a tiny ‘o’ as she gasped.
Byron stole the sound with his lips, planting a kiss on her lower lip.
He felt Emory’s shoulders slacken into him, and he pulled her closer, until their chests moved as one.
She took an age to kiss him back, but just as Byron was about to pull away, Emory stretched up on her toes and held their mouths together. She sucked Byron’s lip into her mouth, and he reached behind her to tangle his fingers in her hair.
Something pulled inside Byron’s chest. He groaned into Emory’s mouth, teasing her with his tongue. When she opened up and let him in, he sighed with something that felt like relief.
The rain flurried outside, and their kiss turned frenzied as their mouths collided in a storm of lips and tongues and teeth. Byron tilted Emory’s head to deepen the kiss, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding them close.
With one hand in her hair and the other on her waist, Byron turned them so her back was pressed against the wall.
Inhibition flew away with the storm outside.
He bent his knees and thrust against her core, the thick fabric of his jeans and the thin material of her pants creating a barrier that burned his skin.
He wanted more. He needed it.
His fingers danced under the hemline of her thin shirt, and he felt goosebumps erupt over her skin. Emory whimpered as Byron pulled away from her mouth to kiss his way down her neck. He nibbled at her pulse point and stretched his hand under her top to palm at her breast.
“Fuck, Emory, I’ve been thinking about this for a very long time.”
She hummed, the sound echoing through his veins and pumping blood into his cock. Byron groaned and thrust himself into her again.
“Feel how hard you make me, Emory. Feel how my cock aches for you.”
“Fuck,” Emory whispered, pulling away from Byron’s grasp. “Is this wrong?”
Byron tightened his grip on the back of her neck, turning her head back towards him.
“If it’s wrong, Emory, I don’t want to be right,” he growled. “But honestly, I don’t think anything has ever felt this right before.”
Tears welled in Emory’s eyes. Byron brought his hands to her cheeks and wiped the trickling moisture with his thumbs. Emory nodded, her head bobbing in his grasp. “Okay.”
He leant down until his forehead was resting on hers. “I’m going to need more than ‘okay’, Emory. I need you all in.”
Planting a kiss right in the centre of her mouth, Byron released his hold on her.
He stepped back, reaching down to adjust the way his dick now strained against the zipper of his jeans.
Fuck, it was uncomfortable, but he couldn’t do much about it right now.
Not with Emory standing right there with her doe eyes and fucking perfect …
everything. Not with the way she hesitated.
Byron would convince her they were right, he had no doubt.
He didn’t blame her for her hesitation. Hell, he’d felt it too at first. But there was an undeniable attraction between them, and Byron had a feeling that a couple of weeks being trapped in the same house was exactly what the two of them needed.
He could forget all about the future she deserved if it meant spending two weeks enjoying every fucking inch of her.
Clayton crashed two trucks together in the living room, shocking both Byron and Emory fully out of the moment and into reality.
Lightning burst through the front windows, filling the otherwise dark hallway with light.
Emory pulled at the hemline of her top, ran her dark gaze over Byron, and raced to Clayton.
She swooped him into her arms just as the thunder crashed.
The lights flickered overhead, and expecting the worst, Byron headed for the entry table.
Three torches rolled about as he yanked open the small drawer on the unit.
He never knew why he kept three. Couldn’t have explained his logic to anyone if he tried.
But at that moment, he understood exactly.
He fished them out but froze when his gaze stretched past the open study doors.
Emory had left a lamp on, and a multitude of massive books spread around her laptop.
He wondered what she was studying. And why they’d never spoken about it.
All those times she said she’d stopped at the library before coming to collect Clayton, Byron had assumed she had just wanted a few moments of peace.
Or that she was visiting Mya. Or maybe collecting more toys for Clayton.
He never thought there was anything more to it, but seeing it now, this made perfect sense.
How soon would she be finished with her degree? And what did she plan to do after? How much longer did he have with her?
Sighing, he knocked his head with the largest of the three torches. He couldn’t think like that. He had no right to try to keep her here. His throat turned dry. It ached more than his balls did after that kiss.
Byron never expected his heart would end up on the line, but with every little moment they shared, he was realising he had more at stake in this than he first thought.
He should have known, really, that Emory was so far under his skin that she’d burrowed straight into his soul.
Should have been able to feel her presence in every breath that he took.
But it had taken him so damn long to realise.
He dropped his head against the torch again.
Fuck.
It wouldn’t be fair to Emory. She deserved so much more than he could give her. Byron wasn’t about to let his own bloody feelings get in the way of her dreams. He should never have kissed her.
Only he had, and now that he had done it once, he fucking desperately needed to do it again. What was it she’d said? Something about having a little fun while they were stuck? He could do that. He’d enjoy it. A lot. And she would too.
He could fool himself into thinking that getting all the sexual tension out of their bodies would help ease it, but he’d have to keep his heart under lock and key while they did.