Page 38 of His Little Stowaway

“Pity,” she muses, hugging me tight from behind.

“I could watch you naked all day,” she says dreamily, sniffing the air behind me and asking when dinner’s gonna be ready.

I turn to face her, smiling when I see her in the same shirt. A little water soaked through, just enough to show me the color of her thick and very hard nipples through the fabric.

“I’ll plate up,” I let her know, leaning down to kiss her. Thanking her.

“What are you thanking me for?” she asks, blushing a little.

“Thank you for helping me make some important decisions just by being here,” I tell her truthfully, kissing her again.

We hold each other for a time, until I remember the food and suggest we eat.

The meat’s perfect, and not just because of my cooking. Its country life.

The salad and vegetables are from the garden, the meat from cattle that runs on another part of the property.

With Brynn here to complete the picture, this is the house I always wanted to live in.

This is the life I always wanted.

Not skyscrapers and suits.

We sit at the informal little kitchen table. An ancient fixture that’s as old as the house, and I’m glad to see Brynn’s found her appetite again.

“Better than waffles?” I suggest, wondering if it was just my menu choices earlier today that put her off.

“I love waffles,” she says, looking thoughtful in between mouthfuls of steak.

The ‘L’ word lingers in the air between us and although there’s still a draft from someplace in the ancient kitchen, we’re both flushing a deep red all of a sudden.

I help Brynn finish the last of her steak before we stack the dishwasher together. Brynn looks more perfect to me every time I look at her.

Our hands always finding each other sooner or later. Everything that might have been holding either of us back is gone now. In record time too. It’s just… Perfect is what it is.

I wonder if people who witness or experience a miracle really do call it that, say it out loud?

Or do they just feel so blessed, so lucky that they’re too wrapped up in it to even try to explain?

That’s how it is with us now. The miracle of destiny has brought us together, and if anything its time for the rest of the world to catch up.

“I lit the main fireplace in the living room,” I say, sensing her shivering from the cold.

Telling myself it’s not fair to keep her cold just so I can take in her stiff nipples every time I look at her.

“There’s a comforter too,” I add. “I should really get you a robe,” I tell her, making for the bathroom to fetch us both a robe.

“I want you to be my robe.” She practically swoons, melting into me before I can pass.

Her hands run over my naked torso, her skin so soft against mine as I pull her closer.

“I won’t argue with that,” I agree, and scooping her up again, I carry her through to the living room, settling us both down on the huge leather couch.

My laptop is within reach, and so is my phone.

“I gotta make a few calls,” I murmur, reaching for another laptop and settling it in Brynn’s lap.

“You can lie here and keep me company,” I suggest, and flipping the computer open I remind her she has some work of her own to do.

She looks confused, almost worried until I smile. Reminding her of her appointment for retail therapy.

“Shopping,” I tell her, feigning disbelief as I roll my eyes. “You’ll need clothes at some point. And anything else you need or want, order it,” I demand firmly.

“Can that include presents for you?” she asks, and I feel my heart catch in my throat.

“It can,” I concede. “But I’ve got everything I need. Right here,” I tell her, slipping my hand up her thigh and cradling her ass with one hand, lifting her closer to me before I kiss her.

Even when she’s given the keys to the kingdom, she’s still thinking about others.

I think Brynn has more than a few surprises left in her.

Stowaway street urchin? I don’t think so.

I think Brynn is one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. And I've met plenty.

With the plan of shopping turning into a gifting contest, I decide to make my calls later.

This is what matters most right now, and it gives me the information I need to press ahead with my plans for Brynn.

For us.

She can shop to her heart’s content. But I won’t let her get away with not having the one thing she deserves most.

Do they sell it?

No, they don’t. But they do sell the closest thing to it.

That one thing that tells someone so much without words.

The fireplace cracks and pops against the screen, and Brynn nuzzles closer once she finds the best way to balance herself and the laptop.

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