“I said what I said, sweetness. They come in at the last minute for a reason. Their behavior won’t change unless there are consequences.”
“I see what you mean.”
Her tone changed from excited and happy to one I can’t decipher. Ever is as I described to her, an open book, and she’d lose at poker. But not seeing her, unable to put my finger on her change in emotions, I get off the bike and pat the spot above my seat.
“Are you sure it’s safe? I could fall over.”
She changes position. I sit and cup her ass cheeks in my large palms. “I won’t let you fall. I won’t ever hurt you.” I choose my words carefully, avoiding the use of “never.” I refuse to let my choice of words bite me in the ass later and rob me of my heart and soul.
Ever is on to me.
“You didn’t use the ‘n’ word.”
“Not with you, baby.”
“Why’s that?”
“I want you to keep your heart and soul. They make you who you are—a gentle and kind person who misses and still grieves the death of her mom and her best friend.”
Her eyes tear up. “Bobby.”
For fuck’s sake, I made my beautiful princess, who’d rather be saved by the villain than the hero, cry.
I wrap my arms around her and bring her to me. “It’s okay to cry, Ever. I still cry when I think about my mom.” I don’t want to make this about me, but I need Ever to know she’s not alone in working through her grief.
“Your mom’s gone?”
She didn’t use the “d” word. I understand. Death is final. “Gone” isn’t.
“Pancreatic cancer. My senior year of high school.”
“Did she get to see you graduate?”
I swallow past the tightness in my throat. My mom will miss the milestones in my life—my marriage to the woman of my dreams and the birth of my kids, her grandkids.
“She didn’t, sweetness.”
“I’m sorry, Bobby.”
“Me too.”
16
BOBBY
The next day, I drive back to Dumas and pick up Ever. She opens the door, and I’m not ready for what’s in front of me.
She is stunning in a blue floral dress. I run my gaze over her from her head to her feet. Her rich dark-chocolate hair is long and full, spilling over her shoulders and her chest, drawing my eye to the scooped bodice.
There’s cleavage, and my mouth waters. Her breasts are small but perfect for my palms. I can imagine it now: me cupping her full breasts in my palms, then tweaking and tasting one little wanton berry before lavishing attention on the other.
Ever would writhe beneath me, demanding she put her hands on my shoulders, trace her fingers down my back, and knead my ass cheeks before one hand flits to my head. She’d beg to put her palm on the back of my head and help guide and keep my mouth on the tip of her hardened nipple.
I’d refuse her.
I’m in control in the bedroom, not the other way around. It’s what made things right again between me and Jules after her betrayals. She wanted to give up all control.
“You’re gorgeous.” I extend my hand to her. Forget Jules. I live in the here and now, and now is Ever. “Ready?”
