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“No standing on my tasting bar.” I stand up straight, fully naked now, letting his eyes roam around my body. The way that he watches me feels like the dirtiest promises are coming and I can’t seem to get enough. “How about fucking on your tasting bar?” That spurs him on as he reaches up and pulls me down, hoisting me over his shoulder. “I’m too old for that shit. I need a soft place to sit so I can have you every way I want.”
“You’re really living up to your nickname, Peach. This ass is so fucking juicy, goddamn.”
“Say please.” He smirks as he rocks his wrist back and forth, jerking himself hard and slow. “Please.” I let out a small moan—he did exactly as I asked. It’s an entirely new kink I didn’t know I had.
“Such a good boy, Foxx, remembering to say please.” I can hear the laugh that escapes him as he moves. “Fuck, that just made my dick jump.”
He kisses where his lips rest along my chest. “I’ll never be the same,” he mumbles in between soft kisses that have my heart stuttering. Because I can’t help but think how this just changed everything.
“I hadn’t realized how much parenting I wasn’t doing until I was the only one left to do it.”
this gave them a space to color. They had to remember the markers, and I’d let them draw.” He smiles while talking about the memory. It’s too easy to smile in response.
“I just wanted some clarity so I didn’t end up killing a man for touching someone who’s starting to feel like mine.”
“How do you like your bourbon?” I can’t help but bark out a laugh and then nip at his lip. “Any way you want to give it to me, Foxx.”
I could be a lot of things, but his couldn’t be one of them. Could it?
Some people might expect kids to be a deterrent when it comes to dating men. Ninety-nine times out of one hundred, I would have agreed. Except now, this one time, I find a single dad whose kids are just as charming as him.
I push down my emotions in this moment—the way hearing that makes me feel like I’ve messed up. Like I’m not enough for my girls. And they’d be right. Enough would be their mother still alive. But I can’t change that simple, awful reality. Just like I know her feelings aren’t about me. It’s about my daughter missing her mother on her birthday.
Extra “you” typo
I started falling in love with Faye Calloway on the edge of a cornfield, on a stage, over a bottle of bourbon, and every time she’s been in my arms since.
“People always think that you get one great love of your life, but I think whatever asshat said that never considered all the different kinds of love that could show up over the course of a lifetime.”
I killed a man tonight. And while I should feel some sort of way about it, the only thing I can think about is I won’t be okay if she doesn’t come walking back out here.
“I realized what it was about you that made you so fucking perfect for me.” I brush her hair from her face as she looks up at me. “You show up for your family and the people you care about, and that’s always been what love looks like to me. You are what love looks like to me.”
You said I love you and then left. Like the ultimate mic drop.”
“That’s it, Foxx. Eyes on me while I fuck you,” she says between breaths, edging me closer.
“Don’t you fucking stop, Foxx. I want to hear you moan like a man.” And that’s the woman I’m in love with. Quick to make me fucking kneel for her, see every part of her, and not get lost in the fall.
“Are you in a rush?” I shove my semi-hard cock back into my briefs as I button and work the buckle closed on my jeans. Leaning forward, I press a quick kiss to her lips as I tell her, “Yeah, a bit. And you should be too, unless you want my girls to see your tits and bare ass.” Jolting to awareness, she stands tall and gets moving. “Oh my gosh,” she says through a laugh. “A hazard of falling in love with a single dad.”
“You’re exactly what I want, Foxx.” Her eyes shift to Lark and Lily, who both stand in the archway with goofy smiles on their faces. “You and your girls,” Faye adds, then kisses me one more time before she turns and opens her arms for my girls. “Oh wow, I missed you guys. Tell me everything I missed.”
My chemistry with Faye Calloway defies reason, because it didn’t make things more complex. It turned out to be very simple: she was my catalyst.
My knee moves to the floor, and I palm the little velvet bag. “Then just say yes.” She searches my face, jaw dropping slightly and eyes widening. “Foxx . . .” she exhales. “It’s a great last name, Peach. I’d very much like it if you’d make it yours. But no pressure.”
“I never planned on loving you, Peach. But now, I never plan on stopping.”
