He waltzed to the fridge, grabbed a beer, and guzzled half of it. “You’re just sad you aren’t getting any.”
A growl ripped out of me, and the dude actually had the decency to look contrite. “Sorry, Prez.”
“Just eat your dinner,” I grunted, and he took his seat while I itched like a fiend in mine.
Trying not to turn my attention to Brinley so I could watch her wrap that tempting mouth around her spoon.
Kept glancing that way, anyway, teetering between the swells of lust that continually erupted when she’d moan around the metal and the fucking gooey feeling I got every time she reached over and helped Kai get a little chunk of food into his mouth.
Most of his stew had spilled out onto his tray, and the kid was using his chubby fingers to try to chase down the little pieces.
Half of them ended up on his shirt.
“Here you go, sweet boy,” she murmured as she hand-fed him a piece of carrot.
I wondered if she’d do the same for me.
“Fank foo,” he told her, showing her the orange, mashed-up mouthful around his tiny, gapped teeth.
“You are welcome, punky boo.” She poked his belly from under his tray.
“I no punky boo.”
She tickled him a little more. “Yes, you are, you’re my little punky boo.”
He squealed in delight, and the air was shifting again.
An ebb and flow that only amplified with each pass.
Energy subdued but far too alive.
Thick and murky yet swimming with light.
Brinley groaned and sat back in her chair and set both of her hands over her stomach.
She’d changed clothes, dumped that dress, though what she’d pulled on wasn’t any safer for my sanity. Black leggings and an oversized beige tee, cropped and with the neck cut out of it.
One bare shoulder peeked out to taunt me into rebellion.
“Oh my goodness, Meems, I might say this every night, but that one was by far the best. I’m so stuffed I think I could burst,” Brinley told her.
Meems beamed.
Brinley might as well have told her she loved her.
“Wait until you try the pie. It’s apple.”
Of course, it was.
Clearly, my entire family was trying to drive me off a cliff.
Brinley groaned. “Sweet torture.”
She didn’t know the half of it.
“I’ll slice it,” Elena offered, jumping up from her seat. She danced into the kitchen, twirling as she went, sliding all over the wooden floors on her fuzzy socks.
Affection had me shaking my head. “You’re going to slip and fall on your ass.”
