Ask Me Why(61)

A tentative knock breaks into the soft music I have going. I stride to the entryway and swing the door open. Braelyn is waiting there, a pillar of bright light against the darkening sky. Everything else fades into a blur. She’s all I see, a vision meant to carry me through the hardest of times. This woman manages to strike deeper with every glimpse.

“Hi, you.” Her easy smile threatens to steal my breath.

I force my features to remain stoic. “Hey, Brae.”

She holds up a package of Ollie’s favorite grape flavor. “I brought juice boxes. And the adult version for us.” She turns the box in her left hand, exposing the wine label.

A chuckle barks out of me. “You’re too damn thoughtful.”

Braelyn shrugs. “Couldn’t show up with nothing.”

I take the beverages off her hands. “Thanks for this. Ollie will appreciate the extra treat. Especially from you.”

She chomps on her bottom lip, still hovering in the doorway. “I’m a bit early.”

“Couldn’t wait any longer?”

The grin I get in return is a reward for my cock. That sweet mouth will be wrapped around me later.

“Something like that,” she murmurs.

I pivot to let her by. Braelyn steps inside, her gaze dissecting every nook and cranny. Her eyes sweep across the walls and vaulted ceilings. I notice the moment she catches sight of the floor-to-ceiling windows in front of the dining table. She peeks in the living room next to us, pausing on a few framed candid shots of Ollie. I can’t stop the feeling that my life is on display. But I don’t mind her taking a better look, peeling back my layers. Seems fitting since I’ve had the chance to view most of hers.

Braelyn is in my space, the sanctuary very few have the privilege of seeing. I wonder what she thinks. Does she feel the current changing? Women aren’t invited over here, as in ever. With the exception of Mary and a few random babysitters, our home is male dominated.

Until now.

I watch her study my house, willing those mossy pools to land on me again. I almost crave her rapt focus. When Braelyn lifts those soulful depths to me, another piece slides into place. She’s wearing a different outfit, and her hair is down in loose waves. It’s probably best that she ditched the skimpy bikini. I got the chance to peel those strings off her earlier. If I knew those scraps of fabric were still hidden underneath, getting through dinner would be even harder. The massive pun is absolutely intended. The semi tightening my jeans agrees.

Braelyn spins in a slow circle, taking another look around. She takes an audible sniff of the air. “It smells delicious. Whatcha making?”

“That’s a surprise.”

She walks toward the kitchen. The boxes in my grip get tossed to the side. I cinch my arms around her waist from behind and press us together. Her ass cradles my hardening dick.

“Maybe I’ll eat you first,” I growl in her ear.

“Didn’t you get enough on the lake?”

“Not nearly.”

She leans into me, her temple brushing my mouth. “Who’s gonna watch Ollie?”

Sadie and Jordan agreed to take Ollie for ice cream earlier. That gave me another stolen slice of time with this woman. We rented a paddleboat and found a hidden alcove. She wasn’t lying about the swimsuit Sadie bought her. If she ever wore that when I wasn’t around, we’d have a serious problem.

“He’s upstairs building a Lego fortress. That usually keeps him occupied for hours.”

Braelyn purrs. “Do you have a large pantry?”

“I sure do.” I bump her forward in the right direction.

But, of course, nothing is that simple.

As if sensing her presence, my son comes bounding down the steps. He flies full speed at Braelyn’s legs. The collision is harsh and probably would’ve knocked her over if I hadn’t been here.

I bite back a groan, stepping away from the comfort of her body. The image of her spread thighs vanishes in a flash. “Great timing, Ollie. Dinner should be ready.”

“It’s gonna be so good. I can’t wait for you to try my daddy’s specialty. Are you excited, Miss Braelyn?” My son babbles all that on a single breath.

Her nod is eager. “Oh, yes. I can’t wait to find out what he made for us.”

“Let’s go sit down.” He steals Braelyn’s hand and drags her toward the table.

I grab the discarded drinks and follow them into the kitchen. “Ollie, guess what?”

He whips around to face me. Like a sniper, his gaze zeroes in on what I’m holding. “Juice boxes? No way!”

“Braelyn brought them for you.”

Ollie beams at her. “How’d you know those are my favorite?”

That earns him a smile in return. “Lucky guess.”

“Daddy, can I have one with dinner? Or maybe two?”

I chuckle and rip off the plastic wrapping. “Start with one. We’ll see about more.”

He takes the pouch from me. “Can Miss Braelyn have one?”

She giggles. “Those are especially for you, sweetie.”

I wink at her. “We have our own juice.”

He shrugs. “More for me.”

“Ollie, can you finish setting the plates?” I point to the short stack on my way to the oven.

He races to finish the task within ten seconds. The faint noise of wood scraping against tile accompanies his efforts. With potholders handy, I place the steaming food on the table. Braelyn finds a corkscrew and opens the wine. The makings of a well-oiled machine are underway.