When Xander isn’t off on a fire, he’s with us, just like he said he wanted to. It’s a little terrifying how easily he’s slipped into our normal routine, how well he handles the daily ups and downs of having three kids. He helps Dalton with his homework, puts Penny to bed, spends his evenings with us and eats meals at our place.
He also spends most nights in my bed.
Doing deliciously, wickedly amazing things. With his tongue. His fingers. His cock.
“You’re a beast,” I whisper against his mouth when he releases me from the kiss.
“I couldn’t wait another second to kiss my girl,” he rumbles back, using his thumbs beneath my jaw to tilt my head up further, stretching my neck so he can bury his mouth there. Nipping, kissing, licking.
The man can’t keep his hands off me.
It makes me feel beautiful, desired. Sexy. And cherished, in a way I don’t think I’ve ever felt. Even with Logan. I made the decision to go back to grief counseling, and talking through things with her has been both cathartic and emotionally exhausting.
Whatever this is with Xander… it’s intense and all consuming, but talking it out in therapy makes it a little less terrifying. I haven’t been able to say it out loud yet, but I can admit to myself that I think I’m in love with Xander. It’s helped so that I can enjoy the moments we have together without the guilt completely consuming me. I still carry that grief, but it’s not quite as debilitating as it was.
It certainly helps that this man is positively feral for me, and I can’t seem to get enough of him, either. Like now.
I shove at his chest, panting. “Get back outside to watch the kids. I have a cake to finish.”
“Yes, Boss Lady,” he rasps, winking, before leaving me pressed up against the door jamb.
When I make it back out to the kitchen, Vi mimes fanning herself and swooning comically. I blush. Dammit these women are going to torment me endlessly.
“Goddamn, get it momma,” Scottie laughs, piling the veggies on the platter in a colorful array of produce. “Safe to say things are going well?”
“Ohmygod are they ever,” I laugh, returning to the cake. I fix the D on the cake one last time and then give up. It is what it is. It might not look the greatest, but I’m happy to say it tastes just fine, thank you very much. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, like there’s no way this is real. Am I allowed to be this happy again? To…to fall—” I whisper the word, biting my lip before continuing, “I’m terrified it’s going to be taken away from me at any second.”
“I think we all feel like that from time to time,” Vi says, placing the dip in the center of the veggies, then dusts her hands off. “But that man is nuts about you, that’s obvious. Pretty sure it would take a Cat-5 hurricane to tear that man from you at this point.”
“Or a wildfire,” I quip dryly, only half joking. I squeeze my eyes shut and berate myself. Don’t do this now. Don’t ruin this. This is Dalton’s day.
Before either of them can say anything, I grab several platters of food and head out the front door. The guys have laid out several queen-size flat sheets on the grass as picnic blankets, andI force a smile onto my face as I get closer. Vi and Scottie exit behind me, both carrying food, too. I avoid their prying gazes as best I can.
We eat, laugh, play, and then sing Dalton a rather loud and off tune rendition of Happy Birthday before allowing Dalton to open his presents. Cal is laying on his side, head propped up in his hand as he leans on his elbow, with Scottie stretched out in front of him. His other hand is idly stroking her side, almost absent mindedly, like it pains him to lose that physical contact with her. Rowan is sitting up, knees raised, with Vi sitting between them with her back to his chest. Hollie and Penny are laying on their bellies on a sheet next to us, and when I look over, they’re playing with a grasshopper that they’ve managed to catch. I grin and roll my eyes.
Kent and Colleen took their leave as soon as presents were done, but Colleen will be back in a few days to watch the kids for me while I work.
I stand, handing Bea over to Vi, who snuggles her close while I gather the discarded wrappings from the gifts and a few of the leftover dinner items. Cal pushes to his feet and picks up several of Dalton’s new gifts, then follows me into the house.
“So… this thing with Xander.”
My brother is awkward as hell sometimes. I blow out a heavy exhale and turn, leaning my hips against the kitchen counter. He’s staring at me, though his expression is guarded, worried almost.
“Are you mad about it?” The words come out hesitantly, so quiet I’m not sure he even heard them.
“No,” he says slowly, shaking his head. “I’m not mad about it. I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt again. I worry about you more than you know I do, Ted. You’re my little sister.”
I smile gently over at him. “I know you do. That’s what makes you the best big brother.”
He shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “Don’t be a sap.”
“You started it,” I tease, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. Crossing my arms over my stomach, I ask timidly, “Did you know how he felt? Before, I mean?”
He bobbles his head side to side, his mouth pulling up into a sort of half grimace, half smirk. “Yes and no. I didn’t know the extent of how he felt necessarily, but I noticed things. Like the way he always watched you. I didn’t really put it together until recently. He’s pretty crazy about you, Ted.”
My face heats and I drop my gaze to stare at my toes. “I think I really like him, Cal.”
“I know,” he says gently. “That’s what scares me.”
