Presley gives me a look that essentially says, “I’m seven. Not stupid.”
That’s not an answer, she signs.
“Just fill those enchiladas, please.”
She playfully salutes and goes back to work. But there’s a knowing smirk on her face.
As we cook to the soundtrack of Taylor Swift’s revenge era, I can’t help but smile at how much Presley’s changed since I first met her.
I’m going to miss spending time with her when Ileave. Cooking dinner together. Dancing to music. Teaching her things I was never taught when I was her age.
A tiny voice sounds in the back of my head, reminding me I don’t have to leave, but I quickly silence it.
This isn’t forever. This isn’t my family. It’s Hayden’s. They’ve already been through enough. Already buried one wife. One mother.
I won’t put them through that again.
“Do I have time for a quick shower before dinner?” Hayden asks, cutting through my thoughts.
I look up and meet his eyes. “Of course. Take your time.”
“I won’t be long.” He flashes me the smile that makes my knees weaken every single time, my pulse still fluttering long after he’s disappeared from view.
With a long sigh, I turn back, only to come face-to-face with Presley making exaggerated kissing faces at me.
I don’t have it in me to deny it. I simply shake my head and continue rolling up the enchiladas.
By the time Hayden comes back downstairs, the enchiladas are in the oven, and Presley has taken Jemmy into the living room to play for a bit before dinner, giving me time to fluff the rice.
Which is what I’m doing when I feel him behind me.
Not hear.
Feel.
The subtle shift in the air. The heat of him. Theawareness that makes the tiny hairs all over my body stand on end.
“Miss me?”
His voice is low. Sensual.
Dangerous.
“No more than usual,” I reply, trying to play it cool as I turn to face him. “Although I did see a very impressive eggplant at the grocery store earlier. It reminded me of you. Or, more accurately, your dick.”
He throws his head back, his laughter echoing through the house.
“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or…”
“Oh, you should be. It’s thick. And long. And it’s curved at just the right angle. I bought it as a souvenir.”
He shakes his head, his laughter continuing to rumble through him. “Of course you did.” Then he erases the space between us, his hand settling on my waist. “I missed you today.”
“I missed you, too,” I admit around a sigh.
He leans down and brushes his mouth over mine. It’s gentle. Tender. Testing. For a split second, I want to melt into it.
Instead, I press my palm to his chest and create space.
