“I love you,” I whisper, lining my cock up at his entrance. “Never forget, Bright One. We’re going to disagree again,” I say, inching my cock in at the tip.
Xavier’s eyes roll back in his head, but he has to have the last word. “Well, duh. We’re us.” He grips the back of my neck and pulls me down to him as I push inside him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” His face radiates with love and contentment, and in this moment, everything is perfect. “Make love to me, Sawyer.”
With one final thrust, I’m seated all the way, and it’s sheer fucking bliss. Being inside my husband is a high unlike anything else I’ve ever experienced in my life.
I spend the rest of the night proving my love as we seal the cracks that appeared in our relationship with every whispered word, every loving touch, every moan and whimper, and every promise we make to never let things get this far again.
Chapter Eleven
Emery
“Who’s babysitting Darcy tonight?” Cheryl asks, handing me a wineglass.
“She’s at Demi and Charlie’s house for a sleepover,” I reply, admiring Keven and Cheryl’s gorgeous living space. Alex Kennedy’s signature style is evident in the décor, and several of Cheryl’s photographs are framed and adorning the walls. Late-evening sunshine floods the roomy space with glorious light, warming my bones.
“Darcy has the biggest crush on Charlie Junior,” Zayn says, nodding his thanks at Keven when he hands him a beer. “I can’t decide if it’s cute or repugnant.”
“They’re only kids. It’s harmless,” I say.
“They don’t stay kids for too long, and Barron’s youngest is what, thirteen now?” Keven says.
“Twelve,” I confirm because Zayn has no clue about any of the kids’ ages, our daughter being the only exception.
“Ouch,” Cheryl says. “That’s an awkward age, but don’t mind those two. I’m sure it’s innocent and there’s nothing repugnant about it.” She loops her arm through mine as we follow the boys outside, leaning down to whisper conspiratorially, “What is itabout fathers and their daughters? Keven practically has a mini coronary any time Talisa mentions boys.”
“Something to look forward to,” I deadpan as we make our way along the stone path in the direction of the covered area where Cheryl has the table set. “Darcy has Zayn wrapped around her little finger, but I don’t doubt he’ll be uber protective when she starts dating. God help us all.”
“Trust me, girl. I can relate.”
“The garden looks great,” I note with a hint of pride, scanning the stunning landscaped rear garden I spent six months designing and creating. It remains one of my best projects to date.
“Thanks to you.” Cheryl squeezes my arm. “That local guy you found is working out great. He shows up every week on time, and he’s meticulous about maintaining your creation. I seriously can’t thank you enough.”
“Stop it. You insisted on paying me, and I got a ton of referrals from it. Plus, the opportunity to work on such a prestigious dream project is all the thanks I need.”
“We both know you didn’t charge us nearly half enough,” she says as we approach our destination.
“Like you charged us peanuts for the family portraits you took.”
She laughs. “Guess we’re even.”
“You’ll have to come to ours for dinner next time so you can see them on the walls. I got a gorgeous frame for that one of the three of us laughing, and I had it blown up big. Joaquin and Kai helped Zayn to hang it over the fireplace last week.”
“I can’t wait to see it.” We unlink arms as we reach the table. “It’s a fabulous photo.”
“This looks amazing, Cheryl.” Zayn’s hungry gaze rakes over the table as he claims a seat. My husband isn’t wrong. Cheryl has prepared a mouthwatering feast with a variety of salads, breads,roasted vegetables, and a charcuterie board full of different cheeses, cold cuts, olives, fruit, and crackers.
“I hope you like it. I stuck to a lighter menu given it’s summer and we’re eating outside, but there is dessert for after too.”
“Please say you have some of Faye’s Baileys chocolate cheesecake,” I say, my mouth drooling as I slide into a seat beside Cheryl and across from Zayn.
“Em dreams about that cheesecake,” my husband jokes.
“Of course, I have some for you,” Cheryl confirms over a smile. “I know it’s your favorite. I also got the recipe if you want to try it at home.”
“Gawd, don’t tempt me. I’d be as fat as a fool if I knew how to make it.”
“I’m the same with anything sweet. If it’s in the house, I can’t resist it,” my friend agrees.
