My eyes open wide as I cum for my fingers. A choked sob that sounds like his name leaves my throat. I pant as I fall back into bed, licking my lips, annoyed that I have to settle for fantasies when clearly, this man is all my mind, body, and heart want.
Chapter 4 - Cole
“Daddy, is Sofia gonna come over for dinner tonight?” Liam asks, bouncing around me.
I nod.
He tells me about what they did yesterday, how she showed him the best way to climb trees so he could beat up giants. She taught him the names of the bugs in the garden. There’s always a story waiting for me when I come in from work now. Liam adores Sofia. The last three days of letting them spend time together – supervised, for both of their sakes apparently – helps with Liam’s limited energy and spurs him on.
He wants her over every night for dinner, wants to show her his room, and wants to share his favorite shows and animal magazines with her. Sofia is his new obsession, better than any plant or animal.
Liam wants her around every evening. Dinner together. Time on the couch. Showing her his room, his favorite shows, his animal magazines. Sofia has become his newest obsession—more interesting than any plant or animal he’s ever latched onto.
I wish I could say she has no effect on me.
I want to believe that as I rinse the dishes from lunch and breakfast, listening to the familiar sounds of the house. I want to tell myself the rhythm we’ve fallen into is an inconvenience. A complication, but it’s not. It’s ... easy. Comfortable.
During the day, I work outside, taking care of what needs doing and keeping an eye on Liam. Sofia has her own routine—errands in town, quiet hours inside the guesthouse—unless she’s with him. With her finger bandaged, she can’t do much in the kitchen, but she still hovers nearby. Setting things out. Keeping Liam company. Talking while I cook.
I don’t know what else to do with her, honestly.
So I watch. The way she adapts without complaint. The way she stays present even when she can’t help the way she wants to. The way she fits into the space as if she’s always been here.
And I like the way she does things. How she includes Liam when he asks questions, welcomes him to talk about everything, always encourages him to say more. Liam loves it. I’m ... on the fence.
We eat and I keep reminding my son to eat since he gets distracted in his stories. Sofia looks at me with a conspiratorial expression, then turns to Liam. “It’s my turn to share facts. Did you know sharks have existed longer than the rings of Saturn?”
She keeps him entertained with her facts, tells him why she came to town – a plan to stay, actually and start a book store, tells him that her mother is from this town, that she came here to get more life than she could get back home.
Her eyes dart to me when she mentions that, then bites her bottom lip.
Once we finish dinner, I get up to clean, my normal go to and remind Liam to get through a shower and go to bed, telling himI’ll be up there later to check on him. He hugs Sofia before he goes and she stays seated, offering me coffee, then simply drying as I wash.
Her body is so close to mine, her hip brushing against mine every time she shifts her weight. Sofia’s braid grazes my upper arm, light and distracting, sending a shiver down my spine before I can stop it.
I glance down at her hand.
The bandage is wrapped around her index finger, clean and snug. My gaze drifts automatically to the finger beside it.
No ring.
I already know that. The file was clear. No engagement. No marriage. Nothing tying her down.
Still, seeing it for myself does something I don’t like to examine too closely.
She’s only twenty-two.
“So you’re planning to stay here?” I ask, keeping my voice neutral.
She blinks a few times, then turns her big eyes on me. “Yeah. That’s the plan. My father says I need at least six backups, that most small businesses fail, but I’m determined. I know that I’ll need a backup, so I’ve been in town, seeing what the job market is like.”
I blink in surprise as she continues, saying she’ll work as a farm hand and learn what she needs to know if her loan doesn’t come through. She’s willing to work two or three jobs if necessary, whether that’s bussing tables, passing the test to become a garbage collector, or something else as long as she gets to open her book store.
I listen to her for a while. She might have been sheltered—shewassheltered, from what she’s told me—but that’s not the whole of her. She’s soft, the kind of person who offers a smile easily, who moves through the world gently.
And yet, she’s determined.
Determined. Smart. Resilient in a quiet way I don’t see often, not even in men who like to swear they’re tougher than everyone else.
