“I might have totaled my car, and my best friend’s wedding might be in three days time, but I can’t stand being back in this town right now!”
“You can’t stand this town, or you can’t stand being here with me?” I brushed away her sudden tears with the pads of my thumbs. Her gorgeous chocolate brown eyes sparkled as I did it. I missed our interactions more than I realized. She spoke the truth, partially. Mikayla wasn’t a little girl anymore. She was all grown up, but I had an inkling that there was an inner Little who desperately needed some attention. At least, that’s how she acted.
“I couldn’t stand being stuck here without you,” she admitted, then bit her lip. “Please kiss me?”
“No, darling. Not when you might have a concussion. But I enjoyed your kisses and would like to revisit this later.” I set an alarm on my watch and got comfortable on the couch. Mikayla wiggled herself up to rest her head on my thighs, and I laced my fingers in hers. “Go to sleep.”
“Thank you for helping me tonight.”
“You’re welcome.”
Mikayla
Resting on the couch half on Sam should have been enough to settle the thoughts flying through my head. The way he was playing with my hair and whispering sweet things should have reminded me how much he cared. Just like his gentle touches should have made my brat settle, but it didn’t. None of that was working. Being in his arms, an overwhelming sense of protection surrounded me—as if nothing bad could reach me here. Instead I decided to see how far his patience would stretch. Shifting a little, I pressed my lips briefly against his jeans. “Sam?”
“Your lips are dangerously close to my?—”
“Mm-hmm?” I snaked my fingers out of his and boldly ran them down over his crotch, tracing the head of his cock.
“Mickie…” he threatened, but whatever admonishment he was about to deliver disappeared when I ran my tongue along his inner thigh. I wet the denim with my mouth and continued upwards until I reached his hardness now bulging against the tight fabric. With a wicked grin, I tugged his zipper down.
Sam clasped his hand over mine. “We’re not doing this right now.”
I pulled my hand back as if he had burned me.
“Don’t misunderstand me, Mickie. I’m worried about your head.”
“I’m more worried about yours,” I said, throwing even more sass into my tone. I didn’t like the way the snark fell out of my lips, but it happened all the same. My defense mechanism roared and I sat up.
“Not tonight.” He reached out for me. “Lie back down. We have plenty of time.”
“I’m embarrassed,” I admitted, staring at his hand. What was the real reason he’d broken our kiss and now refused a blow job? I fixed his zipper but didn’t take his hand, so he reached around my waist and pulled me completely on top of him. His arms looped around me, and he kissed my forehead.
“Please don’t be embarrassed. I’m not upset that you touched me. Everything is fine.”
I nodded into his chest, once again happy to be against him as I tried to sort out the emotions stirred up inside me. “Sam…”
“I love you, but if you don’t settle down?—”
I hooked my hands behind his neck. “Sorry, I’m done, I swear!” He’d just told me he loved me, and honestly, that was enough to get me to finally ease the commotion in my brain. I had known he cared—he’d said as much throughout the years—but he’d never said it so clearly. Though there were many different forms of love. Which did he mean? “Okay, I know I said I’d stop, but what do you mean? You love me like I’m an annoying but endearing little sister? Or you love me like?—”
“Stop spiraling, sweetheart. I’ve always loved you. Even when you were a little bundle of ribbons and lace. But the whole town did. You probably don’t remember, but your mother went out of her way to make everyone feel special. My parents used to invite the two of you over all the time.”
“So you were a teenager stuck babysitting a toddler?”
“Cut that narrative right now. I wasn’t stuck doing anything. I’ve always been about doing things for others. It’s kind of my thing.”
“Yeah, I know. I cried when you got deployed. I thought you might not come back.”
Sam sat up completely. “I’m shocked you remember that.”
“Of course. You were always someone important to me.”
“That makes me so happy. You’ve always been important to me too.”
He shifted me so that I faced him. Why was he surprised? My much younger self hadn’t understood why he was leaving, but someone had told me the risk of him not returning. It had scared me, and when he had come back, I had been the first one in line to hug him. He’d always been special to me. I needed to know what he remembered about my mother, though, and I refocused on his point.
“Can you please go back to the story about my mom? I don’t remember her at all.”
