It’s the god’s honest truth. There will never be another woman for me after Kristen. She’s the one I want for the rest of my life. I’ve been wrestling with this realization for a while, but when she’s in my arms, just like this, I know she’s my future. And the club? It may become my past.
“Aww, you two kids are so damn cute.” Kira makes a reappearance. I nearly choke when I see her outfit. The hem of her mini skirt barely covers her ass.
“That’s what you’re wearing?” I clear my throat.
“Yeah, you like?” She spins around, her long blonde hair kicking up at the ends. “It’s Chanel.”
“It’s . . .short.”
Both Kristen and Kira laugh. “You look beautiful, baby.”
That she does. Way too beautiful. An almost-parental protectiveness takes over. “You have my cell phone number, right?”
“Of course, why?” Kira asks.
“In case anyone fucks with you. You call me straight away.”
Kira smiles up at me. She’s so damn adorable. And way too innocent-looking for that skintight dress.
“Thanks, Gerard.” She gives me a big hug. “It feels good to be cared about.”
“I do care about you, darlin’. Just as much as I care about your mom.”
Her cheeks blush. “Okay, I gotta go. Don’t eat all my cake,” she orders cheekily.
“Promise,” Kristen assures her.
“Can I have your car keys, Mom?” Kira holds out her hand.
“What’s wrong with your car?” Kristen inquires.
“Nothing. The Corvette is just so much cooler to drive. And it is my birthday. Pop-Pop would let me.” Kira lays it on thick.
“Ooooh . . .” Kristen knows she was just kicked below the belt. That car means everything to her. It was the last thing her father gave her before he passed away. “The keys are in my purse.”
“Thank you!” Kira pops a kiss on her mother’s cheek and hauls ass out of the kitchen like it’s on fire.
“Kira, don’t let anything happen to Pop-Pop’s car!” Kristen yells.
“I won’t.” Kira pokes her head back in the kitchen doorway. “Besides. If anything does happen to it, I gotta guy to fix it.” She winks at me.
I shrug. This is true.
“Bye!” She flies out the door and then it’s just us.
“Totally the worst part about having kids is them growing up,” Kristen complains.
“True. But it also leaves us with the house all to ourselves,” I insinuate deviously.
‘Yes, it does,” Kristen agrees. “Whatever shall we do?”
“I have a few ideas. One being getting you naked,” I offer up a suggestion.
“That sounds cold,” she toys with me.
“You won’t be cold,” I promise. “Not with what I have in mind.” I slide my hands around her waist, then slip my tongue into her mouth. It’s on. After a few hot and steamy moments, I’m ready to move this upstairs. “You, bed, naked, now.”
“You better keep your promise.”
