38. Bailey
Bailey
T he sweet smell of french toast filled my house as I took the last slice out of the pan, setting it on the plate with the rest of the golden brown bread. I turned to the island, grabbing a knife from the block, getting to work slicing the washed strawberries.
Lettie came around the corner from the hallway, wearing only my button up from last night. “Good morning,” she said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
I smiled. She was so damn cute, all sleepy, hair strewn about. “Good morning, Huckleberry. Sleep well?”
She must’ve smelled the breakfast I’d put together because her head snapped up. Her eyes landed on the plate of french toast. “Dinner and breakfast? I’ve been missing out all these years. ”
“Don’t forget dessert.” I winked.
After we left the kitchen last night, we’d taken a shower, where I’d made her come two more times using only my tongue and fingers.
After our hour and a half shower, she’d insisted on toweling me off, which led to her getting on her knees.
We could have gone all night, but sometime around two a.m., I'd talked her into getting some sleep since she had to help with the fundraiser for Bottom of the Buckle today.
She slid into the seat at the island and I grabbed a clean plate for her, setting two slices of french toast, whipped cream, and strawberries on it. I placed it in front of her and piled the same onto my plate. Taking the seat beside her, we dug in.
I was wearing gray sweatpants and nothing else, and it was clear Lettie approved, because her eyes kept drifting to my lap while she chewed.
After the fifth glance, I smirked. “Like what you see?”
She cleared her throat, struggling to swallow the bite in her mouth. After a sip of coffee, she said, “I thought the cowboy outfits did it for me, but I think you’ve proved it can only get better as the clothes come off.”
I chuckled, shaking my head. Once we finished, I grabbed our plates and brought them to the sink.
“So… What does last night make us?” Lettie asked hesitantly.
I faced her, setting my hands on the edge of the counter behind me. “What do you think it makes us?”
She bit her bottom lip. “I was hoping you could tell me. ”
I let go of the counter and crossed to her in three long strides. Grabbing her chin, I angled her head up toward me. “You know, Lettie.”
Those blue eyes stared up at me and I wanted to melt into a puddle. “Say it. Please,” she whispered.
My thumb rubbed along her jawline. “You’re mine. You’ve been mine since the moment I laid eyes on you, and it’s killed me having to wait for you to realize it. You were always so scared of us, Lettie. But I’m not. The only thing I’m scared of is losing you again.”
Her eyes searched mine, and she must have found what she was looking for, because she arched her neck toward me. I met her halfway, dipping down to press my lips to hers. She tasted like coffee and cinnamon as her tongue slipped past my lips.
I slid my hand into her hair, angling her head to give me better access. Lips, teeth, tongues clashed as we tried to get more of each other, but before we could go any further, her phone began ringing from down the hall.
She pulled back. “Shit. What time is it?”
“Eight,” I answered.
She cursed, jumping from her seat and hurrying down the hall to grab her phone. While she took the call, I got to work cleaning up the dishes I’d used to make breakfast. I was drying the last plate when Lettie came back from the bedroom, wearing the clothes she’d worn last night.
“I hate that I have to leave,” she said .
The sentence sent chills down my spine, but I urged them away.
It was just for the fundraiser. Not another five years.
“Don’t feel bad. I have to start on some chores, anyway. This is the latest I’ve headed out there in a long time. I’m sure I’ll get shit for it.”
She came around the island as I set the plate in the cabinet and turned toward her. She wrapped her arms around my neck. “Oh, you definitely will. It practically made Brandy’s day to tell me she noticed I wasn’t at my parents’ house this morning.”
My hands settled on the curve of her hips like they were made to be there. I leaned forward to nuzzle my nose against the tip of hers. “What are you going to tell her?” I asked, mostly because I wanted to know if she’d be open about us. I wouldn’t force her to be, but it’d make me feel better.
She nibbled on her bottom lip and I kissed her, only to bite her lip myself, tugging on it slightly. She pulled back, her eyes full of desire for more.
“I’m going to tell her the truth,” she finally said.
I pressed my lips to her forehead. I didn’t know how I was going to go all day without touching her once she left.
“I’ve gotta get going, but I’ll text you.”
I nodded. “Good luck, Huckleberry. Say hi to Brandy and your mom for me.”
She stepped out of my hold, heading for the front door. “I will. ”
I watched her jean-clad ass disappear, already wishing she was back in my arms.
That whole thing about being addicted to Lettie?
Yeah, I was sure I was going to overdose.
Thank fucking God. It was about damn time.
I didn’t want to go out any other way.