Page 83 of Weston’s Treasure

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay the night?” Margie inquired for the hundredth time.

“’Preciate the offer, Mom, but I told you, we need to get a few hours in tonight before we stop. Silver goes back to work in a few days. We need to get back,” Weston reminded his mom for the hundredth time.

“But—”

“Woman, they need to get back. And even if they didn’t, do you think they really wanna sleep in the room next to us?”

“Len!” Margie snapped.

“Well? Do you? I may be old, but I can still remember courting you and if I had my choice between the room next door to your parents and a hotel room, your hair would’ve been on fire I’d pull you from the house so fast.”

“Len Beil, I swear on a stack of Bibles if you don’t stop being such a tactless fool, I’m gonna throw a lamp at your head.”

Silver’s hand in his flexed before she crumbled into a fit of laughter.

Weston sat motionless enjoying the sound, but mostly he was just enjoying her—carefree, happy, open, unguarded.

In all of the time he’d known Silver, Weston had never seen her so relaxed and at ease. She was always stunning, but seeing her like this was beyond compare. Totally effortless, and he knew if he hadn’t already fallen in love with her, watching her laugh at his parents’ antics would’ve done it.

Weston caught his father’s smile from across the room, and he knew his old man was feeling it, too. The beauty that was Silver filled the space. It couldn’t be missed. A glance at his mother’s soft face watching his woman laugh had his chest tight and his heart near bursting.

“Try that, woman, and I’ll bend—”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Dad.” Silver rested her head on his shoulder, her body still shaking with humor.

“It’s not funny,” he grouched.

“It kinda is,” Silver returned.

“We’re leaving,” Weston announced and Silver wrapped her arms around him, keeping him on the couch as another wave of giggles tore through her.

Weston let that settle in, too. Her tits pressed against his side, her warmth all around him, his parents’ laughter joining Silver’s. Life was good. The only thing that would make it better was if he’d indeed planted his kid inside of Silver.

* * *

It had taken approximately an hour to say goodbye, three-thousand promises that they’d be back soon, a hundred hugs, and Silver thanking both his parents five million times before they’d been able to exit the home Weston had grown up in and get on the road.

By that time, Weston had grown impatient—they weren’t going to try to drive a few hours tonight. They were hitting the hotel they’d stayed in last night.

“We should’ve just stayed at your parents’,” Silver said.

That was not going to happen. He loved his parents, loved spending time with them, loved how they’d treated Silver. However, he was not staying in his childhood bedroom with his woman.

“You heard what my dad said,” was the only explanation Weston had to give.

“I like your parents.”

“That’s good, baby, seeing as they loved you.”

And they did, all it had taken was a few hours with her and the Beils were head-over-heels for her.

“You were right. I had—”

“Say again?”

“You were right.”

Weston was happy he was stopped at a red light so he didn’t miss the roll of her pretty hazel eyes nor the shake of her head.