“Yes, Dad?”
“Don’t be strangers. Stop by next week, okay?”
“We will,” Kyra says, answering for the both of them.
“Bye,” I say to all of them, shutting the door behind them, leaving just me and Layla.
Turning to her, I tighten my arms around her waist, bringing her into my arms. “Thank you,” I murmur against her lips.
“For what?” she murmurs back.
“For being here. For meeting my kids and my ex. That couldn’t have been easy.”
She sighs. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“Good,” I reply, smiling against her lips. “Now, time for cleanup.”
She groans softly.
“Have more wine and put your feet up. I’ll take care of it,” I tell her, taking her hand and leading her to the kitchen.
She takes a seat and I pour her more wine. It won’t take me long to put the leftovers in the fridge and load the dishwasher. It’s boring, but it’s a small price to pay for having the people who mean the most to me sharing a special day. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
By the time I’m finished, Layla has finished her wine. “Another?” I ask.
“Yes, please,” she replies, her cheeks pink. “Join me?”
“Absolutely,” I tell her, pulling out a bottle of whiskey.
Highball glass and whiskey in hand, I walk over to her and gently pull her from her seat. “Let’s relax in front of the fire.”
We make ourselves comfortable, Layla in my arms, a roaring fire in front of us. “Today went well, I think,” I muse.
“I think so.”
I smile and kiss her hair, content. My head and my heart are finally on the same page.
“Have plans this weekend?” I ask.
“Not that I know of.”
“Spend it with me?” I ask, hopeful.
She smiles. “Yes. As long as you promise?—”
I don’t even let her finish. I take her lips and kiss her passionately, letting her feel my joy. I’d do anything for this woman.
“Gabe.” Layla sighs against me.
“Whatever it is, I will do it.”
“Anything?” she teases, a mischievous sparkle in her eye.
A smile tugs at the corner of my lips. “Well, almost anything…”
She laughs softly. “In that case…” she jokes. “Now where were we?” she says softly, placing her lips on mine as she moves onto my lap, her arms around my neck. I groan softly, the promise quickly forgotten.
Things between us turn heated quickly. Pushing up her sweater, I span her ribcage with my hands, brushing my thumbs over her soft, smooth skin. Moving upward, I brush my thumbs in an arc again, this time pushing them under the edge of her bra, grazing the underside of her breasts.
