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I shift, rocking slightly so I don’t wake Lila. My thumb traces slow circles on her back, feeling every flutter of her breath. She smells like baby shampoo and whatever the hell makes newborns irresistible. My heart gets this weird ache.
Inez and Dolly reach the bottom of the south slope, moving with purpose now, and I can tell by the set of her shoulders she’s aiming straight for home.
She rides up, swinging around the gate with a flick of her wrist that makes Dolly snort and dance just a little. The horse slows, careful not to kick up gravel near the porch, and Inez swings her right leg over to dismount in a single, sexy motion that’s loose and practiced, nothing of the spoiled Hollywood princess left in the way she moves.
Her boots crunch the path as she crosses the last few yards. She doesn’t stop until she’s within kissing range, eyes locked on mine, then she goes up on tiptoes to press her mouth to mine. It’s slow, hot, a damp slide of lips that does things to my brain and my balls at the same time.
“Morning.” Inez pulls back, lips curved, and immediately dips her face to the baby nestled against my chest. She kisses the crown of Lila’s head. The baby stirs, letting out a sound somewhere between a purr and a complaint. I chuckle as Lila’s hand flexes, little fingers splaying on my skin.
“Morning, Hollywood.” I hand her the cup of coffee I made for her. “I thought you might need this. I heard you get up twice with the little one last night.” Behind us, Hank’s snoring cuts off like someone hit a switch. The mutt lifts one wrinkled ear, blinks, then, seeing no real crisis, drops it right back and returns to his coma.
“My hero.” Inez winks at me and reaches for the cup. Even though we’re alternating nights getting up with our little one, we’re both running on fumes.
My wife reaches over the rail, giving Lila’s tiny foot a little squeeze. “I’ll go cool off Dolly, then maybe we can squeeze in a quick nap while Lila sleeps.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I say as my wife takes Dolly’s reins. “Wait a minute,” I call after her. “What kind of nap are you talking about?” I wiggle my eyebrows at her. “A real nap or a mommy and daddy nap?”
She laughs, low and throaty, and gives Dolly’s lead a gentle tug toward the barn. “What do you think?”
“I think I’m one lucky motherfucker,” I call behind my wife.
Over her shoulder, she throws a look that causes my cock to turn to stone. “You’re about to be.”
Yes, I am. Life doesn’t get any better than this.
The END
