Rafe swam to the edge of the pool, away from the steps where Sloan was sitting, and hoisted himself out. He grabbed his towel off the deck chair, then followed Avery inside after they were both done drying off. She marched into the brand new white on white on slate grey kitchen that was attached to an even larger open concept living and dining area. She went straight for the massive pantry.
“We keep the stool in here. It’s not a toy,” she said in a stern tone. She opened the door and pulled out a wooden step, dragging it over to the faux wood, clearly scratch-resistant tile. Rafe watched as she carefully made her way up each step until she could kneel on the counter. “Mommy said feet belong on the floor and we can’t walk up here.”
“Got it. I won’t walk on the counters.” Avery seemed like she had things under control, but he moved a little closer just in case. She grabbed two plastic cups from the cabinet, gently set them down on the counter, then carefully climbed back down.
“You want me to fill these up while you put your step stool away?” he asked.
“Yes. Thank you very much.” Rafe kept his smile to himself as they stood in the middle of the kitchen and enjoyed their ice cold water. When Avery finished, she put her cup on the counter and looked Rafe dead in the eye.
“I can use that again with my lunch.”
“Very resourceful of you.”
“You’re really big.” She cocked her head to the side, trying to make sense of him.
“I am.”
“Like, you’re as tall as the house.”
“I’m not sure that’s right, but I am pretty tall. My dad’s tall too and so was my mom.”
“My mom’s short.”
“She’s short-ish. She’s about average height. Do you know what average means?”
“No. I have to pee.”
“My bad. Please.” Rafe moved out of the way. Avery walked backwards down the hall, keeping a firm eye on him until she disappeared around the corner. He had to appreciate her vigilance. No one was going to get the jump on Avery Copeland.
Rafe refilled his water glass. He needed a few more minutes before he laid eyes on Sloan again. He got about thirty seconds. Sloan came walking into the kitchen, Addison wrapped in a towel by her side. “I think we’re ready for some lunch. What about you two—oh. We’re down one.”
“Water break turned into a bathroom break.”
“Ah, okay,” Sloan said as she absently stroked the back of Addison’s head. “Are you hungry?” she asked Rafe.
“I could definitely eat.” Your pussy. Right now. Splayed out on this kitchen counter.
“Great. Miss Addison, you know the post-pool drill.”
Addison nodded. “Rinse off, lotion up.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Addison turned on her heels and ran for the stairs.
“How many peanut butter and jam sandwiches does it take to satisfy a man your size?” Sloan asked with a teasing smile. She wasn’t flirting. It was an honest question. Instead of giving her an honest answer, he wanted to tell her what a man his size can do for her.
“Wonderbread sandwiches, five. If you have some thick artisanal slices from your local Whole Foods Market, I should be okay with two.”
“Good lord, you’re going to eat me right into the poor house.” Sloan laughed and turned toward the fridge. “You’re in luck. We have both. You have a preference?”
“Nah. Surprise me. Dealer's choice.”
“Mom?” Rafe turned at the whine in Avery’s voice.
“Yes, baby?”
“I’m hungry. So, so hungry. I’m sooooo hungry. Help.”
