Page 117 of One More Chance
Her soft laugh curled around me. "Little feet again… running and playing through the mud. God, I'd love to see that."
I turned toward her, a teasing edge in my voice. "We could work on that, if you want." My fingers traced a slow, familiar pattern up her arm. "If you really want."
She tilted her face up to mine, eyes sparkling. "Why don't we go back inside… and you show me?"
I chuckled, already rolling up the plans and closing the sketchbook. "I am but a servant to your desires, my love."
We left the truck and walked the mile back home, our trip filled with jokes and banter. Slipping through the side of the house, I kissed her in the mudroom, the taste of coffee lingering on her lips as we fumbled like teenagers, then giggled our way toward the bedroom. Behind us, Rufus let out a whine, a soft protest lost beneath our laughter.
Sloane pulled away long enough to glance back. "He's judging us," she said, grinning as she took off her socks mid-step.
"He's jealous," I said, catching her around the waist and spinning her as we stumbled into the hallway. "He wishes he had someone to slow-dance with in the mornings."
"Slow-dance?" she snorted. "This feels more like a stampede."
We bumped into the wall with a thud that knocked a picture frame crooked, the photo a recent family shot of all of us with Amber, the newest addition, in the middle. Sloane burst into laughter, clutching her stomach as we toppled into another corner.
"Okay, okay," I said, pretending to steady us like we stood on a ship. "Next time, ballroom shoes."
"And a helmet," she added, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the bedroom. In a way, it felt like our first time all over again: no kids, no past, no regrets. Just us, together, breathless and giddy and alive in that moment as everything slowed.
The world spun for only us.
The laughter quieted to soft smiles, and our footsteps fell into a gentle rhythm; a dance only we knew. The morning light streamed through the curtains in pale gold, gilding the bedroom.
Her fingers found mine, and she spun into my arms, resting her head against my chest. I swayed us without music, letting the rhythm of our breathing lead. My hand brushed the small of her back, tracing the familiar curve.
"You still remember how to lead," she whispered, voice delicate.
"I never forgot," I murmured, dipping my head to kiss her temple.
We moved like that for a while, quiet, slow, present. No rush, no urgency. Simply the weight of her against me, warm and real.
Slowly, we undressed each other, each piece of clothing dropped to the floor like a layer of distance falling away. I slipped her hoodie off her as she helped me with my shirt. Her hands slid across my skin with the kind of tenderness that undid me, far more than any words could, before we fell into the bed.
"I want to try something," Sloane whispered against my neck.
My interest sparked. "I'm all ears."
She scrambled off the bed with a sudden burst of energy, heading straight for the closet. I heard shuffling, the creak of a box lid, then the unmistakable crinkle of plastic wrap.
"Jesus, Sloane… what did you get?" I asked, already half-laughing.
"You'll see!" she called over her shoulder, her voice sing-song and mischievous.
I propped myself up on my elbows, waiting, trying to imagine what on earth she would bring out. I thought of the two dozen different toys for her we'd discussed trying next, and I wondered which she'd purchased. When she finally turned around, she had something hidden behind her back and a sparkle in her eye.
"Ready?" she asked.
"As I'll ever be. Is it the new collar and leash we've talked about?"
"No, that's on back order."
She revealed it with a flourish; a soft, unmistakable toy. A flesh light.
I blinked. "Is that…?"
"I ordered one of those custom kits," she said with a wicked grin. "I sent off the mold, and they returned it to match my uh… likeness."
