Bronwyn’s come a long way tonight. I can’t wait to see her grow into her full potential. She’s been brow-beaten all her life. With me behind her, I think she’ll show more and more of the bravery and backbone I’ve already seen glimpses of.
When she gets to her feet, she chuckles as she stumbles, her shaking legs not fully supporting her. I move to take her into my arms, but she stops me.
“Clothes.” She points to them scattered around.
Oh yeah, we’ve got a kid in the house now. It’s not like I can leave the tied-off condom lying around, or evidence of the rush we were in to get naked. So, I dispose of the condom and gather an armful of clothes, spying her bra at the last moment.
We shower together. I might be an asshole, but not that much of one that I don’t appreciate, after taking a cock of my size, she’ll be sore, so we just enjoy exploring each other, and when my cock comes to life, I tell her to ignore him.
It’s been both a physically and mentally exhausting day and night, so when we get into bed, I pull her close and just hold her, relishing in the feeling of having her in my arms.
“I didn’t expect this tonight,” I tell her thoughtfully, as she snuggles into me.
“No one expects the Spanish Inquisition,” she murmurs lazily.
“What?” I bark a laugh.
“What?” she repeats, then giggles. “Forget I said that.”
“I will, unless you’re implying sex with me was torture.”
She gives another gentle laugh. “Not doing that again would be a crime against humanity.”
And you know what? I one hundred percent agree.
With a yawn, she rests her head on my shoulder, and her breathing seems to even out fast. My heart beats in synchronicity with hers, my lungs rise and fall to her rhythm, and it’s not long before I follow her into sleep.
Morning comes, and she wakes to her alarm, which wakes me, too. While she gets ready to go to work, I cook breakfast.
When she finally descends the stairs, Trip is walking in front of her, rubbing his eyes and yawning widely.Yeah, I feel you, kid.
Bron comes over, leaning close to see what I’m cooking. Taking his hand, she brings Trip closer. “What do you want, Trip? Eggs?” She points to the scrambled yellow mixture I’ve got in one pan. “Bacon?” She points to that as well, then tilts her head to the side, studying the boy and waiting.
His brow creases, then he points to the eggs, then the bacon, and then the sausage links I’ve got frying.
My brows raise. I exchange glances with Bron, who looks delighted. Not wanting to break the spell of this leap forward in communication, I chuckle and tell Trip, “You’ve certainly woken up hungry.” I grin. “Boy after my own heart.”
Both of us are even more delighted when he practices his newfound skills, pointing to the toast that’s popped up from the toaster. But when he points to my coffee, I growl, “Don’t push it, son.” There’s that gravelly sound which tells us Trip’s laughing, that he knows exactly what he was doing, and that he’s fucking with us. Bron gives him orange juice which seems to satisfy him.
It’s all so domestic, but comfortable. Something I’d never have said I was missing, but now wouldn’t change it for the world.
Brushing off Bron’s assistance to help with the dishes, I motion her toward the door, having heard Knight arriving to escort her to the hospital.
When she goes to walk straight out of the door, I pull her back and into me, letting my lips find hers and kissing the hell out of her. If Trip objects to me mauling his momma, he’s just going to have to get used to it.
I stand for a moment at the front door, watching her get into her car – we’d decided she could drive to the hospital – reversing out of the driveway, and disappearing up the road with Knight following close after her.Fuck, I hardly recognise the sap I’m turning into, but I already miss her.
Inwardly laughing at myself, I return to the kitchen and get on with my chores.
“You ready to come to the clubhouse with me?” I ask Trip, as that’s the plan for today. Hopefully, we’ll be able to get him into a school that can meet his needs soon. The kid needs socialisation as well as an education that will cater to his disadvantages. I presume that’s something Bron will be discussing with Dr. Hancock.
Once again, Trip surprises me. As I finish rinsing and loading the breakfast plates and pans into the dishwasher, Trip reappears, almost disappearing under the box he’s carrying, which is full of cars and that remote-controlled motorcycle.
“Guess you’re ready.” I grin.
