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But I swallow back emotion when she doesn't. "These are real good brownies," she says. "Where did you get them?"

"You made them," I tell her. We're sitting at the table. When I was a little boy, we sat at this very table, Cody and I. After school, Ma would make us cookies or brownies just like this. And we would eat them, smiling up at her, telling her about our day. She would laugh, ruffle our hair.

I would tell her about the baseball pitch I made and how good it was. She would say how proud of me she was. Cody would probably be bragging about something he'd done. Probably some tests he took and how he'd gotten straight A’s because he was always the brightest.

Damn. He was the best. I fucking miss him. He was better than me in a million ways. They're gone, though. All of them.

"This brownie is really good," I tell my ma.

"It sure is," she says. She smiles. Her eyes are blue.

"I love you, Ma," I tell her.

"Well, I love you too," she says. And she looks at me, and I want to believe she sees me. I choose to believe that because I can. I can choose right now to believe anything I want. And so I believe that my ma sees me and as I eat that brownie, I make another choice.

I don't know how I can make Paisley's life easier right now, today, but I will soon.

"Ma," I ask, "do you still have grandma's wedding ring?"

She frowns. "Wedding ring," she says, "I don't know about any wedding ring."

"A diamond ring," I say, "do you know where there might be a diamond ring?"

Her eyes widen. "A diamond. Oh, I know where there's a diamond," she says, "wait here."

Later, I'm sitting at the computer, wondering if this is the right thing to do, but I make the decision before it's too late. Not sure if it is right or not, but I press submit before I can change my mind.

I look at the ring my ma gave me, wondering when will be the right time. Hoping like hell it'll be soon because I love that girl.

A girl I just met. A girl I want to know forever. A girl I want to make mine.

Paisley

The next few weeks are wonderful in many ways. Abilene’s wrong about Holt. He is there for me. He is at the house when I get off from work. He's not smothering. He's comforting. He's funny and sensitive and honest. He’s good and true and smart and sexy and good in bed.

He satisfies me, and those toe-curling orgasms that happened that first night? Oh, they don't disappoint and they haven't dissipated either. They keep on coming. And so do I.

I wake up in bed amazed and utterly sated. I roll over, looking at him. I let him sleep over, and I'm smiling. "Oh my God," I say, "that was incredible."

It's Saturday morning. And the kids are all downstairs watching TV, probably cartoons are on. But Holt was wise. He bought donuts yesterday. He brought them with him when he came over last night. We didn't go to the Tipsy Cow because we were smart. Why waste time going out? We had the foresight to stay in, have pizza and a movie and an early night in this room with the door locked, him and me and a noise machine. I smile.

“So, about last night,” I say as I straddle him, naked. I lace my fingers with his.

His cock is hard. He groans beneath me. He massages my breasts with his hands. I close my eyes. His cock is so big it's bulging. It's thick and long and hard.

There have been moments in the last few weeks that have been difficult. Of course, my family is a million complicated things, but this right here… I moan, lifting my ass as he fills me up. "Fuck, baby," he says.

"Yeah?" I say, smiling, sinking down against him. The morning light filters through the lacy curtains. "Oh my God," I groan.

“You feel so good,” he grunts.

I bite my lips together. Shaking my head, I cover my face with my palms. "Oh my God," I say, "Stop. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God." I press my hands down to his chest, I drop my jaw wide. "Oh my God," I squeal. "Holt." I cover my own mouth as I cum hard and fast.

"Fuck," he groans. I press the pillow over his mouth. Stifling his cry, he groans as he cums hard inside me. "Fuck."

I roll off of him. We both came way too fast. "We can't do this in the morning," I say, "we're way too loud and way too horny. This is trouble. There are children in this house."

He cracks up, laughing hard. And so do I. He has a perfectly chiseled six-pack along his belly and fuck, it gets me wet. I stroke his shaft up and down. I love how hard he is in the morning and his balls are heavy. And his thighs are so muscular. I can't get enough of him.

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