“Keeping tabs on my clothing now, West?” I smile. “But, yes. I finished it yesterday.”
He hums, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Looks good on you.”
“Is that you trying to flirt?”
He narrows his eyes at me, a dark shadow passing in them. “And what if it was?”
Oh.
A laugh bubbles up my throat, and I move to stand, but as I do, my foot rolls over one of Radish’s dog toys, and my glass of wine slips from my hand. A few droplets spill onto my leg, but Evan’s quick reflexes save the majority of the liquid. Before I can blink, he’s crouching down in front of me with my glass in his hand as I drop back down into the chair.
It all happens so fast, and we stare at each other, very aware that one of his wrists rests on my thigh with my glass between his fingers, the other hand wrapped around my calf to support himself.
“Oh, shit,” I mumble under my breath, my body reacting to his touch, immediately craving more.
Goosebumps pebble up on my skin, and my heart flips, feeling tight and strained. After feeling my abdomen spasm, my hands effortlessly slide up Evan’s arms until they’re resting on his broad shoulders, and my thumbs trace his collarbone.
The hand wrapped around my calf slowly begins to move up, and I find myself arching, loving the sensation of his calloused fingers grazing against my skin. Mywholebody has been itching over the past couple of days after I loaded a big wash and dried it all outside on Evan’s clothesline.I put it down to pollen getting onto them, but I’m not too sure.
“These fucking legs, Flo. They’re perfect.” Evan’s eyes don’t stray from my face, but they do widen slightly when my mouth pops open and I take in a heavy breath as he reaches my thigh. He swirls around the skin, skipping over the parts that are hive-covered.
“Mmmhh.” I release the throaty noise without warning.
Furrowing his brows, Evan tells me, “They look sore.”
“Not really what I’m thinking about when you’re touching me this way.”
His eyes linger on mine, not just in the way that men sometimes look when they want something, but in the aching way that makes me feel like it’s something heneeds, instead.
“Whatareyou thinking about, then?”
My abdomen twirls, spirals and twists inside of me. I’m desperate for Evan to reach higher, to cross that boundary in the corner of our friends’ living room, and after he watches my throat bob as I gulp, he clicks his teeth together. I don’t fail to see how his jeans tighten.
But the sound of Leo’s excited squeal behind us causes him to rip himself away from me.
“Look, Daddy.” Leo attempts to balance his plateful of chicken thighs, mashed potatoes and roasted veggies in the palm of his hands, all cut up for him. “I’ve got so much!”
“Yes, you do, bud. Looks tasty.” Evan casts his gaze back to me, swallowing his arousal. “Are you coming for some food?”
“Sure.” I thank the stars that I’m not a guy because I would have a raging boner right about now, and I wipe my slightly clammy palms on my denim shorts, stealing a cooked carrot off Leo’s plate and popping it into my mouth. “These are good.”
I gave myself some insulin about fifteen minutes ago in preparation for the food I’m about to eat.
“Carrots are yucky,” Leo complains.
“They’re good for you, Leo. Make you big and strong, so try to eat all the veggies on your plate, okay?” I wink at him, turning to Evan, saying, “You too, Daddy,” as I shuffle past him with a ghost of a smirk on my face after hearing the choked sound he made.
After dinner, everyone else heads out, but Evan hovers, and I have to tell him Mae and I want to compare tampon sizes to get him to leave, which makes his face contort as he slaps two hands over Leo’s ears.
In reality, I’ve been working on a little present for Leo, and I need to do it without the risk of Evan barging his way into my cabin and discovering it. Mae and Nathan are more than happy for me to spend the next hour perfecting it until I’m pretty sure all it needs now is just a final few tweaks.
I make it back to the cabin with about ten minutes to spare until sundown, and I watch the sunset from theporch, which helps to relieve some of the anxiety I had earlier when worried I hadn’t left in time to make it home before dark.
I shouldn’t have left it so late. My upper lip was sweating every time I had to stop at a red light.
Taking a long look at the main house, I can see Evan and Leo moving around inside the kitchen, unloading the dishwasher. Leo soon finds himself on top of his father’s shoulders, and as Evan races around the kitchen, his son giggles and clings to his hair, pretending he can control him like he’s the rat from Ratatouille. The large window is open, and the sound of them both laughing drifts through the wind and sparks something inside of me—pure, utter happiness at watching these boys live the way they’re supposed to. The way they deserve.
Evan doesn’t have a big family, but he doesn’t need one. He’s got a boy who looks at him like he personally orbits the moon around the Earth just for him.
