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She frowned. “That’s what you say when I’m being naive.”
“He is definitely fucking his unofficial girlfriend,” I said. “But it’s sweet you think he’s not.”
She ran a hand over her face and put her hand on her hip. “Maybe you can have a talk with him about being careful.”
“I already had that talk with him a while ago,” I said. “What he does now is all on him.”
She sighed and I wrapped my arms around her waist and rested my chin on her hair. She smelled faintly sweet, like her shampoo, and her round ass nestled against my groin. My cock twitched.
“It’s good to have everyone home,” she said.
“I missed you,” I said.
She laughed, a soft, silvery sound. “I was gone for twenty-four hours. And it’s the only time I’ve ever left overnight.”
I stayed quiet, soaking in the feeling of her body against mine. Where it belonged. After a moment, she shifted and swiveled in my arms. Her hands slid up and locked around my neck. I brushed the loose hairs of her bangs back and cupped her face.
“It’s good you went,” I said. “You’re the best mother our sons could ask for. Not many college aged children are happy their mothers come to visit their school.”
“Marco’s a good boy,” she said. “He’s never been embarrassed of me. Or you.”
The last part wasn’t true. I looked into those big dark eyes framed with heavy lashes. “Marco’s not a boy anymore,” I said quietly. “He’s going to have to make a lot of hard choices soon. He only has one more year left at school.”
“Maybe he’ll decide to get his master’s degree,” she said hopefully.
Bending, I kissed her mouth lightly. Then her nose and forehead. She smiled and her lids fluttered.
“We’ll think about it later,” I said. “I have some things to finish up. Then I’ll help with dinner. How does that sound?”
EPILOGUE
OLIVIA
I went into the bathroom to take my makeup off and tie my hair up. Lucien gave me one last kiss, below my ear, and left the room. I mulled over Marco’s situation as I finished up and left the room, heading downstairs. But no obvious solutions came to mind.
I ran into Hugo in the hallway, carrying his winter boots.
“When is dinner? We were going to go for a walk down to the pond,” he said.
I glanced up at the grandfather clock at the end of the hall. “Seven. I still have a lot of work to do. If you’re going to the pond, better do it now because I’m not cooking this whole meal by myself.”
“I can’t cook, mom,” he protested.
“No, but you can peel potatoes and do dishes,” I said. “So be back by three.”
“Okay,” he sighed.
I paused halfway down the steps. “Better not let your father see you scowling like that over having to help with dinner.”
He quickly rearranged his face and sloped away down the hall. For a long time, I’d felt guilty about using Lucien as a threat. But the problem was, he was the most effective threat there was and Hugo was hard to manage. Nothing made the boys stand up straighter or speak more respectfully than the ice cold stare of their father.
He rarely raised his voice, and he’d certainly never laid a hand on them, but they fell into line for him without protest.
I padded barefoot over the hardwood floor and peered into the living room. Through the open doorway, I could see the hallway beyond where the twins were getting ready to go outside.
“Atlas, where’s your father?” I called.
“I don’t know, mom,” he yelled back. “Maybe in his office?”
