“I love,” I said. “But I want a turn to play.”
She shook her head. “I’m in charge right now.”
Before I could protest, she took me to the back of her throat again.
Head dropped back, I groaned. “You’re always in charge, mama. I’m just here to do what you tell me.”
She released me with a pop and smiled. “Good. Now fuck my mouth.”
I damn near collapsed, but I would not disappoint my girl. If there was one thing I was good at, it was following orders.
“Anything for you,” I gritted out as she worked me over. There was no more teasing, no hesitation. Just the hottest and most intense blow job of my life.
“Fuck, Evie. Your mouth.” My legs shook and every muscle in my body clenched.
When she looked up at me again, that was it. The eye contact did me in. There was no going back. There was no making this last. I was powerless when it came to this woman. I’d give her anything and everything. Always.
Chapter 34
Evie
It was hot and sticky, but Vincent was enthralled by the sights and sounds of the Founder’s Festival. The event, part small-town fair, part historical reenactment, and part wild summer party, was set up on the village green and down Main Street.
It was our town’s largest summer event, typically filled with tourists and locals alike. Mainly because of the historical bent. The Revolutionary War reenactors were in their glory, the elementary school was putting on the annual summer production ofLove Never Falls, directed by Bitsy Bramble, and the vendors were selling Cora and Nathaniel–themed merch, including mugs, signature cocktails, and dish towels.
The smell of maple kettle corn and fried dough permeated the air as kids ran wild, faces painted and hopped up on maple candy and snow cones.
“My nieces are here somewhere,” Jasper said, “They really want to take Vincent on the carousel.”
Hand in hand, we walked toward the gazebo, where the band was warming up.
“And Opal’s doing a pop-up with Nate and Reed,” he went on. “Told them I’d stop by and say hello.”
The line of tourists waiting to take selfies in front of the Welcome to Maplewood sign was promising. The preceding weeks had been full of hand-wringing and stress about tourism revenue, but this place was packed.
My heart warmed as I took Jasper in. Vincent was once again strapped to his chest, and the man wouldn’t even let me carry the diaper backpack. As he waved and smiled at everyone we passed, one muscled, tattooed arm wrapped around our son, he was the picture-perfect dad. And when he stopped to speak to people, gently swaying to keep Vincent happy, I nearly melted.
He was gorgeous and so damn sweet. Always.
Going out like this, at an event catered to families, would have alarmed me even a month ago. Now it felt right. Comforting. This was our community. Vincent would grow up coming to the festival summer after summer.
I’d been fighting this. The domestic ease. The pull of Jasper’s steadiness. But surrounded by laughter, music and sunshine, the last vestiges of that urge faded.
Just inside the beer tent, Frankie waved at us, so we pivoted and headed that way. Basil and Etienne were there too, along with Gabe, who looked particularly mayorly in his wayfarers, and Josh, who immediately jumped up to greet us.
“Evie,” he teased, “I can’t believe you got my little brother to trade in his turnout gear for a diaper bag.”
Jasper stuck his tongue out. “I’m on shift later, so we’re soaking up all the fun now. I’ll get a couple of lemonades,” he said, kissing my forehead. With practiced ease, he unclipped the baby carrier and passed Vincent to me. “Wait here.” With that, he wandered off, Josh at his side.
I sank into an empty seat, and as I sighed, thankful for the shade, I found Frankie, Basil, and Etienne staring at me.
“He did it,” Basil said. “The firefighter made a move.”
My face burned.
“We need details. But”—he looked at his watch—“we’ve got to get back to our booth. Break’s over. Tonight. Bonfire. You’re gonna tell us everything.”
I crossed my arms. “Only if you promise not to make it weird.”
