And, fuck, I was wired enough after the way she felt straddling my thigh in the storm, the silkiness of her skin, the way my dick grew and the way it’s stirring now from memory alone.
Catching me in my inappropriate thoughts, Bear nudges open the door to the nursery and as he comes sniffing Nelson and me, Sonny appears behind him.
He pauses for a moment – reminding me that I’m sitting in the rocking chair with Nelson in my arms and it’s not what he was expecting. Honestly, it wasn’t what I was expecting when I turned up to the ranch yesterday.
“This is where you are…”
It dawns on me… he’s seen the empty guest room.
“Yes, sir. Nelson woke in the night and I?—”
He nods once, sternly, not interested in the why, just content that he doesn’t need to get out his shotgun because I didn’t find my way into Annie’s bed in the darkness.
Give me some credit. I’m not a teenager. Lord, do I know it because as a teenage boy, Idefinitelywould’ve found my way to his daughter’s bed.
“Since you’re up, you might as well earn your keep.”
As Sonny walks away, I eye Nelson but he’s giving me no clues as to what Papa has planned for me. Crucifixion, maybe?
“Yes, sir,” I mutter. I’m about to bring Nelson with me but his diaper literally squelches on my hip, so I spend a solid five minutes with Nelson giggling on the changing table while I work out how to take off a sodden diaper and put on a new one.
I’ve no idea if I get it right but the miniature hose seems secure enough for now.
Downstairs, I sit mini-Annie into his highchair. Sonny is nowhere to be found, so I check in the cupboards for some kid-friendly food, while Nelson gets increasingly animated waiting.
I locate a two-handled drinking mug and pour in milk. That keeps him quiet, even if he is sloshing half the liquid out of the lid and over himself and every nearby surface. Then I find a box of cereal that seems too small for a ten-month-old to choke on and for want of a better option, I tip out a handful onto the tray table on his seat. I’m clearly a natural at this parenting thing because Nelson is as happy as Quinnen Jones eating a corn dog.
As he tucks into his deconstructed cereal and milk breakfast, Sonny appears from the porch, holding a mug of coffee. I’d like one of those myself and I’m about to voice that when he hands me a woven basket.
“You can fetch the eggs from the hens, son. It’s one of the best jobs on the ranch at sunrise.”
Fetch what now? From where? Is this for real?
I see that from the glint in Sonny’s eyes, this is some kind of ranch-man test. If I want to sleep in his house, he wants to make sure I’m made of good stock.
I literally and proverbially roll up my sleeves. “Sure thing, Mr. Quinn.” While making a mental note to give Quinn junior a piece of my mind when I see him.
Here I am helpinghimout to spend time with Sas and as a thanks, I get to collect eggs from real life farm hens.
“Daddy!” Annie says, coming into the kitchen in a pair of very tiny bed shorts and a Bears hoodie.
Come on,I silently scream to the heavens. That’s my kit. And damn does she wear it well. Those legs that were either side of mine yesterday?—
Suddenly, I can’t bug out fast enough. Almost fast enough not to notice the way Annie raises one brow at the state of Nelson, sitting in a diaper I’ve now decided is strapped on backward, with half a box of cereal thrown around his immediate vicinity and his hair drenched in milk.
“It’s all good, Annie. It sounds like a nice way to start the day,” I say, not looking back.
In my haste, I don’t even ask where the hen house is, so I have to follow the sound of a noisy cockerel, with which I wholly sympathize this morning.
A Bears’ hoodie? Tiny shorts?
I swear I’m a saint for not even having a dirty—Nope, there it is, a dirty thought about what I would like to do to curves like Annie’s in?—
Jesus fucking Christ, Pace.I palm my forehead, lucky that her brother can’t see the filthy storyboard in my mind because he’d hit me a hell of a lot harder than this if he could.
It transpires the cockerel does not get his kicks from one hen but an entire army of hens behind chicken wire, clucking around like nobody’s business.
Annie will be late for college if all these birds have laid. I find the break in the fencing and immediately squish my favorite pair of sneakers into chicken shit.Karma’s a bitch.
