Chapter 26 Don’t Try This At Home （Kane）
DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME (KANE)
A Few Months Later
The lake house has a different vibe in the winter.
The fall was an explosion of colors and vibrance.
Now, as I drive Margot and the kids up the familiar gravel road to the front door, everything sparkles under a pure white sheet.
There’s snow everywhere, casting a thousand shades.
The lake looks iced over, the center still cracked, the water dark and still as ink splashed on a white page.
We’ve only been back once since everything went down with the Babins and Lee Glazkov. Just the two of us. Margot came up to see the property to take care of it, and I insisted on being by her side.
I wasn’t having her go alone, even with the danger neutralized.
Yes, the Babins are locked up and waiting for trial, but they tried to burn the place to cinders along with my woman.
Better to play it safe.
Coming here now hits different.
The expectancy in the air, the excitement seeping in from the back seat.
“See, kids? Your old man told you we’d be back,” I say as I park.
Dan and Sophie are already flinging off their seat belts and throwing their doors open.
“Don’t go down to the lake,” I call after them, but they’re already gone, sprinting around the back.
I’m sure they know better than to risk falling through the ice. I pounded it into their heads ten times over the past week.
Margot stops and stares at the wooden porch. The dusting of snow gives the place an added shine under its tired paint.
“You okay?” I ask. “Tired from the drive?”
“It’s just weird. Coming back here in the winter, I mean,” she says, smiling. “But it’s nice to see the kids so amped up.”
“They love this place. Almost as much as I do.” Since the munchkins aren’t watching, I give in to my obsession, taking her face in both hands and kissing her.
“Already? We just got here!” She laughs as she leans back, but I know she’s feeling it too.
From the corner of my eye, I see Dan heading back to the front. He ducks behind one of the deer-chewed bushes beside the porch. Sophie’s already on the ground in front, making a snow angel.
Damn. Guess I should’ve had them dressed in snowsuits rather than jeans and jackets.
Oh, well.
“Keep your eye on Dan. He’ll probably whip a snowball at you the second you step out,” I warn.
“He can try.” She opens the door and puts one leg out. “He probably forgot I have an older brother, too.”
I watch as she walks to the house, scooping up some of the thick snow in her bare hands and patting it into a ball.
Dan, busy hiding, doesn’t notice she’s armed and ready until he jumps up, snowball in hand.
The boy wins a nice fat snowball to the face.
I chuckle as I climb out. The frosty air nips my skin, but I don’t care.
Margot doubles over, laughing, her breath coming in soft puffs around her and a couple strands of blonde hair escaping from her bun.
“Not fair!” Dan yells as I approach.
“Fair. Don’t pick fights you can’t win, little man,” I say. “Especially when you’re not paying attention.”
Dan hurls his snowball at Margot, hitting her on the side as she turns.
Sophie comes running into the commotion, her hair already damp with snow and her face flushed from cold.
“Cool it,” I say, clapping my hands together. “We need to get unpacked before I have to watch you guys for frostbite.”
Predictably, they groan, and so does Margot.
“But Daaad,” they all say in unison.
“Don’t make me say it twice.”
With another groan, they all turn and start trudging back to the car.
“Not you.” I catch Margot’s wrist. “Let’s check the house before they blow in. Make sure everything’s okay inside. I know Mrs. Griffith was here for a quick check last week, but you never know.”
“Like just checking or checking for trouble?” She frowns.
“The house, duchess. It’s always good to have peace of mind.” I tap the end of her pink nose. “I’m not worried. Worst thing waiting for us in there is the cold. The cameras are still working.”
“Oh, yeah. Right.” Her shoulders loosen. “And yes, it’ll be freezing. I bought a bunch of heating pads and blankets for a reason. Let’s get a fire going, though.”
Hand in hand, we move, and I’m glad we’re ahead of my little tornadoes.
That ice on the porch needs salt. Margot skids on a slick patch from the eaves overhead and almost loses her balance.
I catch her, folding her into my chest.
She looks up with heated eyes.
“Wow. We really are back,” she whispers. “Feels familiar already.”
I smile back to that time in the attic, when we wound up in a similar position.
Hell, I think I fell for her right then.
“That time we kissed,” I growl.
“You can relive it.”
That’s all the invitation I need.
I swing her back up, kissing her long and hard before I see the blur in my peripheral vision.
I break away, holding out a hand, just in time to stop Dan from sprinting up the steps.
“Careful, Bud,” I say. “It’s icy over here. Why don’t you pass up your bags?”
Predictably, the very first thing he brought up was his drum pad. I take it off his hands.
With the door unlocked, Margot helps pass our luggage inside before heading in.
The place looks just like we left it, except we can see our breath.
She flicks on a light, and everything comes to life.
“Sooo cold! You can throw a penguin party in here.” Dan shivers.
“Won’t be for long,” I say, giving him back his drum pad. “Why don’t you move around while we crank the heat up? It’ll help. Go get settled upstairs.”
“You can choose your own room,” Margot adds. “Any room except for your dad’s room.”
“Our room,” I say.
She smiles then, her eyes dancing. “Our room, I mean.”
Dan doesn’t notice the exchange and shoots up. Sophie runs up after him, her suitcase flopping.
“Wait for me, Dan!” she yells, charging up the stairs.
I wince at the sound of the suitcase hitting every single step on the way up.
“Shit, sorry about that,” I say.
“What’s a few more scratches on the old wood?”
“I’m sure I can buff them out.”
“Oh, no. You’re not playing handyman this time, Kane Saint. We’ll find someone to fix it after we leave.”
The look in her eyes says there’s no argument.
Chuckling, I catch her around the waist, pulling her closer.
Amazingly, our hunger hasn’t slowed down a notch in our months together.
Hell, if anything, it’s growing like a beanstalk, ever since that kiss.
The fact that I can have her morning, noon, and night some days only makes me fucking ravenous.
If she’s not busy on calls with designers and physicians who want her Orthique line of shoes in production by summer, and I’m not investing in my latest start-up projects with mountains of vetting, we’re either with the kids or I’m locked up with her under me.
“Your job is dog food now,” she teases.
I snort. “Come on, it’s one start-up I decided to fund. The owner’s a nice guy and hungry for a win. Big social media presence with lots of dogs all over social media. Zero chance Brady Pruitt screws me over.”
I mean it, too.
After the debacle with OptiSynth, I’m never getting tripped up again.
“Exactly. This is my house and my responsibility. If you’re under my roof, you just worry about your updates with cute dogs.” She taps my chest with her finger playfully.
That wins her my teeth when I kiss her again.
“What the hell will I do with you and our kids and no work?”
Our kids.
Her eyes blaze, and I think she gets it.
They don’t call her Mom.
Not yet.
It hasn’t been long enough, and they still have a real mother who pops in and out of their lives when she starts feeling guilty.
Margot won’t ever replace Daria, no, but there’s no hiding how thrilled the kids are to have some motherly affection at home.
No hiding how awestruck that makes me, either.
We’re becoming the family I always wanted.
Whole.
Undamaged.
Somehow, a living miracle.
“It really is freezing in here,” she says with a shiver. “Can you turn the heat up and start the fire? I’ll go make sure the pipes haven’t frozen.”
“Sure.”
She heads off through the house while I go to work.
First big improvement here needs to be better insulation. We already have a list for this year.
“Kane?” she calls once she’s back in the kitchen. “Is there any salt in the toolshed? We should get the ice off the porch before we forget.”
“I’ll check in a sec.”
I stand in the doorway, watching her ass bob as she bends down to look under the kitchen sink.
One day, we will come back here alone, minus the kids.
All so I can bend her over every surface of this kitchen and fuck her to ruin.
Upstairs, the kids whoop.
I’m sure they’re bouncing on their beds.
Whatever.
Today, I don’t mind too much, especially if it keeps them busy.
“No frozen pipes in the bathrooms?” I say as I stroll toward her.
“Nope. Mrs. Griffith did her job.” She turns, ass perched on the edge of the counter, and I step between her legs. She grips me with her knees as she says, “You know, Mr. Saint, this is very risky.”
“And very necessary. I had to fuck you here sooner or later. And I prefer fucking soon,” I mutter, leaning down to kiss her.
The bloodlust is instant.
My body overwhelms my brain, urging me to take her now, even though I know that can’t happen.
“You’re forgetting something,” she moans against my mouth, digging her nails into my neck.
“Making you explode on my mouth?”
“Your children.”
“Dunno. They’re busy upstairs,” I growl.
“Not busy enough,” she says firmly. “And they’re definitely not old enough to catch us like this.”
“We need more locks on the doors,” I snarl.
“You can’t lock your children in their rooms, Kane.”
“I can and I will.” But I’m laughing as I pull away. “We’ll have it your way for now, I guess.”
Just in time.
Dan comes pounding downstairs and darts past us, out the front door.
“Careful on the steps!” I call, squeezing her hip. “Why don’t you set your old bedroom up as your new office? I’ll bring in the rest from the car.”
Sophie tumbles down the stairs next, hair flying loose from its ponytail.
“When we’re done unpacking, can we play outside?” she asks.