“Oh, bloody?—”
Preston hands me a napkin, his fingersgrazing mine.
“You’ve got… tomato. Right there,” he says, pointing vaguely at my boobs.
“Helpful. Very surgical,” I mutter, blotting at the stain. Under the table, my bare foot brushes his. And he doesn't move away.
We exchange a glance. The air between us crackles.
After dinner, the bedtime routine is smooth. Preston brushes Lily’s teeth again after she claims she’s done it, and I hunt down her favorite pajamas, the ones with shooting stars. She makes me braid her hair while her dad adjusts the nightlight.
Then he turns to me, his voice soft. “I’ll take it from here. I promised her three stories tonight.”
I squint at him. “Are you trying to get rid of me? Do I smell?”
“No.” He steps closer, fingers brushing a strand of hair near my temple. “But you do have sauce in your hair.”
I groan. Of course I do.
He leans in closer. “Go shower. I’ll meet you after. Ten, fifteen minutes max. I’ll choose the shortest stories.”
“And then?”
One corner of his mouth lifts. “Tonight, you leave your door unlocked. When I step inside, class is in session.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
mia
I’m pacing my room,willing him to come over, already worried for his physical well-being if he actually does. I’ve lost track of time and heartbeats—whichever is racing harder, it’s a photo finish.
When I finally give my legs a break and plop onto the bed, there’s a knock. I bounce straight back up. Pathetic, horny—possibly deranged.
Preston cracks the door open, voice barely above a whisper. “Are you awake? Can I come in?”
“Please.”Lord, help me. I’m already begging.
He slips inside, and I grin, suddenly sixteen again and sneaking behind my father’s caravan. Preston shuts the door and locks it, all without a sound. He’s a ninja in low-hanging pajama pants, an old T-shirt, and socks. Socks. I bite my lip to stop the snort. If someone had told me I’d be hyperventilating over a gray-haired man in socks, I would’ve howled in their face. But right now, my pussy’s doing the giggling.
“We’re finally alone,” he says,breathless.
He closes the distance between us, arm sliding around my waist, the other cupping the back of my neck. He breathes me in like this is where he gets his air supply. It’s deep, kind of possessive, and I melt into him.
His nose traces the slope from my shoulder to the base of my ear, his beard scratching my skin.
Another inhale. Deeper. And when he exhales, my whole body shivers in response.
I’m way out of my depth here. And I’m right where I want to be.
“Mia.” He says my name like a plea, and I want to inject it straight into my bloodstream.
“Say it again.” I feel his smile on my skin, and I smile back.
“Mia?” This time it’s teasing, and I decide I love all the ways my name sounds coming from him.
“Yes?”
“We’ve skipped something very important.”
