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“Lacey baby, I want to touch you all over.”
“Then touch me,” I breathe.
“Mmm,” he groans, going in deep for a heated kiss that has us shifting, pulling frustratedly at each other’s clothes. He grabs my leg, hiking it up higher on his hips. I respond by wrapping my legs around him, squeezing him in tight as a pool of hazy heat spreads between my legs.
Breathing hard he asks, “Is this okay?” unhooking my bra inside my shirt.
Breathlessly I nod my head waiting, and just as he touches me...
“Dad!”
“Mom!”
The alarm sounds, and we’re looking at each other, separating instantly, sitting up side by side.
Caught with our hands in the cookie jar.
“Coming!” we say at the same time.
“Dammit, the cookies were so good,” I whine.
“What?” She brushes back her hair, flustered.
“Can we have some water? We’re thirsty!”
“They have the best timing, don’t they?” I shake my head.
She smiles, fixes her clothes, and takes my hand, pulling me off the couch.
“Okay, guys. You’ve had your water, went to the bathroom a second time, and had a story and a snack.” I lean against the door with an indulgent smile, trying to get back as fast as I can to the most wonderful place in the world, wrapped between Lacey’s legs. “Don’t get up, and don’t call, unless someone is throwing up or in danger of losing a limb, which you shouldn’t be, because you should be sleeping. Don’t call unless one of those things is happening. Goodnight.”
Lacey smiles and kisses them goodnight before standing next to me. “He’s kidding. If you need anything, call.”
“Right.” I sigh, rubbing my chest. They’ll be up for a long time. No taste of the best place in the world for me.
“Hey, Jackson, do you know my mom’s name is on your dad’s chest? It’s cool. I saw it,” Jacob says.
I smile, scratching my jaw, looking at my son. He looks at me for a few seconds, spearing Lacey a glance. “Yeah, it’s right here,” I confirm, patting my chest.
“My mom doesn’t like that tattoo. She hates it,” my son says flatly.
“Jackson,” I grumble, silently pinning him to the bed with a warning.
His lips push together, close to pouting. “I don’t hate it. I don’t care.” His nostrils flare, eyes looking down. “Dad, are you sleeping over too?” I’m not sure if I should yell or give him a hug.
“Ah...no.”
“Are you going home to be with Mom?”
“Yes.” My kid sure knows how to spoil a good time.
“Okay, night.” He settles back, smiling.
Lace says good night to them again, closing the door behind her back, holding on to the handle. The uneasiness is all over her face. I don’t like it. It doesn’t need to be there. It’s there because I can’t give her the time she needs. But this can’t be helped. There really is no one else to help Bree but me. I meant what I said—I’m going to make it up to Lacey. Next week it’s going to be me and her. A beautiful November in the land of enchantment, before temperatures drop below 65 degrees. No interruption. No Bree.
I look down at her, grasping her hips, pulling her bottom lip into my mouth. “Sorry.”
“No need for apologies. It’s not easy.” She brushes a hand across the side of my head.
“Thanks for understanding.” I kiss her cheek. “I’m going to go home. Not to her.” I amend.
“I understand.”
She does but…somehow it feels wrong, leaving her and going home to a house I basically still share with my wife. That has to change. She deserves more from me this time around. And I’m going to give it to her. Not as soon as I would want. Things get complicated with kids involved. I’m beginning to see that as much as I would want a clean break for all of us, it might not happen. It’s seeming nearly impossible.
