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I laughed, pressing my face into his neck, reveling in the security of his arms wrapped tightly around me.
“Happy to do so, Darling.”
“You might need to help me upstairs,” he teased. “I’m weak.”
“This does not bode well for me,” I murmured.
“I’m weak, not dead. Still. You’ll have to do all the work.”
“I’m already doing all the work!”
“I’ll remind you of your preference for a gentleman of retirement age. Far be it for me to deny you your fantasy.” Grasping my hips, he helped me to my feet then knifed up, yanking his pants up. “Tell you what, whoever’s first upstairs gets to call the shots.”
I spun on my heel and headed for the stairs, trying to kick off the heels that were hampering my speed.
Lucky laughed and tossed me over his shoulder as he took to the stairs.
“Might I advise you, in this position, my bottom will cross the threshold before yours which means I’ll be first.”
“Can’t have that.” Turning his back to his room, he set me down on the floor on my bum, putting me at a distinct disadvantage.
I latched onto his neck and yanked him down with me, laughing, then turned and launched my body toward the door.
Lucky’s laughter rang out behind me. “I had no idea you were so competitive!”
I slapped my hand down onto his bedroom floor. “I’m in. I win.”
He stepped over my prone form and helped me up. “You win. On a technicality, but I’ll let you have it.”
I lifted my dress over my head and stood before him in lace bra and panties.
The mirror above his dresser reflected my image back to me. Hair a mess, cheeks flushed, eyes bright.
There you are.
Lucky
She was glorious.
Eyes laughing, hair a wild tangle from my hands, mouth soft and swollen.
I tucked my fingers into my back pockets and leaned back on my heels to take her in. I could not help but smile. “What do you want, baby? I’m at your command.”
A saucy smile tipped her lips as she pointed to the floor and mimicked me from earlier. “Knees.”
Gladly, I thought.
And I’ll fucking stay there.
Chapter Forty-Three - Smithereens
Lucky
Ava brought Brayleigh, and coffee, shortly after breakfast but didn’t stay long. It had nothing to do with Minty or holding out hope for Hope and me. Ava just wasn’t much of a talker. I think being the youngest, everyone simply spoke for her. In the past few years, I’d made a conscious effort to not fill the silent space between us, waiting to hear her thoughts.
She didn’t share often, but when she did it was a gift.
When she left, Minty and I sat outside on the back patio. Brayleigh sat on Minty’s lap examining her jewelry. The way Minty dressed and accessorized gave Brayleigh new baubles to discover every day.
