Archer grinned and mimicked Jayce, rubbing his hands together.
“Sweet. I told Mom no kissing noises.” Archer gave him a sample of what he didn’t want to see. “Blah, blah.” The kid was sticking his finger down his throat and gagging now after a hilarious display of puckered wet sloppy kissing in the air movements.
“My technique is a bit more refined than that.”
“Show me,” Archer said. “Then I’ll let you know if you have to change it.”
He could barely hold back a laugh. Farrah was enjoying herself, and if she was happy, then so was he.
But hell, it was getting harder. Weeks ago, he’d thought this moment would never come. The nights spent sleepless, dreaming of her, aching to touch her again, to finally let out the words he’d buried deep.
Now she was right here close enough for him to catch the warmth of her skin and the scent that made his pulse race. Every brush of her hand, every flash of her smile scraped against his control like sandpaper on raw nerves. It built the more he was around her, and zapped his control greater than imaginable.
He wanted more. Needed more. The freedom to touch, to claim, to whisper everything he’d held back.
But Archer had to come first. Always. Not just for Farrah, but for him.
So he swallowed the burn in his chest, let the need coil tight inside him, and reminded himself that being the man who did things right mattered more than giving in to the fire threatening to consume him.
It’d be better for them both in the end. He believed that one hundred percent and that belief led them to this night.
Where an eight-year-old was giving him the rules to be with his mother and he was going to follow them to the letter nomatter how much he wanted to draw Farrah into his arms for a kiss that told all the secrets he was holding close to his chest.
He moved next to Farrah and put a kiss on her cheek. “How is that?”
“I can handle that.”
“How about this?” she asked and gave him one on the lips. He liked that she had made the move to do that over him.
“Good, Mom,” Archer said. “No noises. Keep it quiet.”
She rolled her eyes playfully. “Can I hold your mother’s hand?” He threaded their fingers together.
“Yep. That’s good,” Archer said. “And you can hug her too. She likes hugs a lot. The tighter the better. I do it to make her happy. I like it when Mom’s happy. She lets me get away with more.”
Talk about a humbling conversation. He saw the emotions gathering in Farrah’s eyes.
“I want to make your mom happy too,” he said.
“Perfect,” Archer said. “That’s an important rule.”
This kid was one of a kind. “It is one. Anything else?”
He was pretty happy with being schooled so far. It was everything he planned on anyway.
“Mom does too much around the house. It’s nice when you help her.”
“No more, Archer,” she said. “Now you’re stepping out of your lane.”
“But Jayce asked.”
“And you answered. We didn’t want you upset over a new dynamic. Archer wondered if you were being friends with him so that you could be my boyfriend?”
“No,” he said seriously. “Not at all. I want to beyourfriend.” He put his hand to the side of his mouth. “Sometimes I have more fun with you doing man things.”
Archer pointed at his mother. “Burn on you, Mom.”
The doorbell went off. “And that is dinner,” she said. “Perfect timing.” She moved away from them to get their dinner, then returned and put it on the island.
