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I love my family, and I’d spend my last dime taking care of any one of them if they needed it. But with Mia, I find myself wanting to take care of her in a different way for the first time ever.
I want her to be warm when it’s cold outside. Well fed. Comfortable. Happy. I want to be the person who gives her all those things while making her smile day in and day out. Actually, I want to make her do a lot more than just smile, but I have to start somewhere since she’s technically still married.
Uncle Dix better not be an asshole to Mia. I know the chances are slim that he’s behaving himself, though. When I wheeled him into the living room this morning and he saw her in the kitchen, he whistled under his breath and asked me if he could “get chocolate milk from those titties”. I just about lost my shit on him.
It’s not like me to cut out early from my post-practice workouts, but today, I do. I have to get home and see how things are going. When I get back to my building and step off the elevator, I approach my apartment door and take a deep breath, preparing myself.
The apartment is quiet when I walk inside—either a great sign or an awful one.
“Hey, guys,” I call out tentatively.
“Hey, we’re in here,” Mia calls.
I drop my keys and equipment bag by the door and walk into the living room, where afternoon sun is streaming through the windows. Uncle Dix is sitting in his recliner watching Jeopardy with a sour look on his face. Mia’s sitting in a corner of the couch, reading a textbook.
“How’d it go?” I ask Mia.
“Like shit,” Dix snaps before she can answer. “She’s starving me!”
Mia smiles up at me from the couch. “It was great. A quiet day, mostly.”
“Quiet?” I arch my brows in surprise.
“Yep. Oh, and I prepped some foil packets of salmon and veggies for you guys to have for dinner.”
She gets up from the couch and gathers her textbooks from one of the cushions.
“Here, I’ve got it,” I say, taking the stack. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”
“I told Anita I’d make dinner at home, but thanks for the invite.”
“Bet you’re not making any smelly pussy,” Dix grumbles.
I shake my head. “Ignore him.”
“He can be really nice,” Mia looks over at him, “when he wants to.”
“I have yet to see him want to.” I walk across the room and set the books on the kitchen table. Mia loads them into her backpack, one at a time.
“So you need me here at five tomorrow morning, right? And you’ll be back Wednesday afternoon?”
“Right.”
She opens her mouth to say something, but hesitates.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I take care of Dre on Tuesday nights. Is it okay if I send an Uber for Anita to bring him here and then pick him up to go home?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks.”
She smiles at me, and I swear I feel my fucking body temperature start to rise.
“How old is Dre?” I ask her.
“Four.”
“We should, uh…have some toys delivered for him. To play with when he’s here.”
She shakes her head. “Don’t worry about that. He loves playing with pots and pans and laundry baskets. I’ll keep him busy.”
“I’ll just have a few things brought by. Maybe a nice toy drum set. Uncle Dix would love that.” I wink at her and she laughs.
“That’s really sweet of you, Anton.”
I’m so fucking hooked on the way she says my name. More emphasis on the An- than the -ton.
Christ. I’m like a teenage boy with a raging crush. It’s a good thing no one can tell what I’m thinking.
Mia meets my gaze and smiles again, then takes a step closer and wraps her arms around me in a hug.
“Thanks,” she says softly. “I’m really grateful for this job.”
She’s in my arms. Mia Marceau is in my fucking arms right now. She’s soft and warm and she smells like sunshine and coconut. I can’t even speak.
“Uh…” I manage.
My cock is more than willing to communicate for me. I can’t control the immediate hard-on I get from Mia’s closeness.
And, of course, she notices. Fuck me. She steps back suddenly, eyes wide.
“Uh…I’m sorry about that,” I say. “It’s just, uh…you know, long-term celibacy and all…”
“Oh. How long term?”
“Um…more than two years.”
Her lips part with surprise. “You? Why?” She cringes. “Sorry, that’s none of my business.”
“It’s okay.”
“Is it…” She lowers her voice. “I mean, you can, right?”
I curl my lips up, grinning at her hush-hush tone. “I think you can see I have no problems there.”
Mia glances at my crotch, then cringes, embarrassed. “Geez…sorry.”
I’m not. She’s the only woman in the world I want looking at me this way. Her eyes dart up to mine and I get lost in their gold-flecked depths.
