Page 75 of On the Slopes of Tahoe
“I’d love to.” I take his extended hand and jump down from the counter.
We move around the kitchen seamlessly. He boils the water for pasta while I brown the meat. The smell of the rich, spiced tomato sauce melts away the strain of the workday. The small touches Breck seems unable to hold back with each pass in the kitchen are helping too.
The first few leave me with goosebumps and a hitch in my breath, so I start giving back as good as I’m getting. I slide my body against his when I pass, even though there’s plenty of room in the kitchen. My fingers trail down his forearm to his hand where he’s cutting fresh tomatoes before plucking a piece to put in my mouth. It only escalates from there. Each small touch filling the space with more and more tension, and with Willow still up in her room, we’re getting bolder.
When I slide my hand across his ass, perfectly sculpted in jeans that look like they were made for him, his restraint snaps. He presses me against the door of the pantry with a low growl, leaving me panting and mewling, wanting more.
Footsteps approach, and I press my fingertips to my lips, smiling as I slide them up to finger-comb my hair.
“Hey, Bug,” I say when she comes around the corner. “Hungry?”
She nods and then engulfs me in a hug. I relish each and every one she gives me.
“Good. We made pasta, and you know what? I was thinking we could pick out a board game from the closet. What do you think?”
The smile I love so much grows on her face, dimples showing.
“Can I pick?”
“Sure,” Breck says, walking over.
Instead of pulling her from me for a hug of his own, he just joins ours, squishing Willow between us. She doesn’t protest but nestles closer. I can’t move my eyes from Breck’s. They’re filled with that same look from this morning. It’s tender. It feels likemore.
More is dangerous, it’s risky, but I let myself want it.
Willow finally wiggles to get free and runs to choose a game. She settles on Attack UNO, a personal favorite.
The evening progresses with a fire burning in the hearth, warm food in our bellies, and laughs surrounding us each time the machine spits cards across the table. It feels natural. Right.
It feels like home.
“One more game,” Willow begs, but the sun set a while ago and the clock’s already reading an hour past her normal bedtime.
“Sorry, sweetheart, it’s time for bed,” Breck states, then adds, “for Rory too it would seem,” when he catches my yawn.
I’m exhausted, but there’s a buzz under my skin that makes me think I won’t be following Willow straight to sleep… To bed, maybe, but definitely not to sleep. I raise an eyebrow at Breck and his eyes smolder, lips tipped up in a smirk.
“Fine.” Willow pushes back from the table.
She starts to walk away but comes back to wrap her arms around me. “Good night, Rory.”
“Good night,” I say, kissing the top of her head.
She makes her way upstairs, leaving her dad and me at the table. His foot slides across the space and presses against my calf, then his hand snakes across the top of my thigh to grab mine.
“You’ll wait up for me while I get her to bed.” It’s not a question, and I bite my lip, nodding. Then he follows her upstairs.
I sigh and walk over to the couch. Settling in, I lean back against the arm, resting my head against the cushion. I let my eyes slide closed—just for a minute—and then jolt awake at the feel of being lifted from the couch.
“Shh. I’ve got you.” Breck’s smooth accent caresses my ear and I melt against him.
He doesn’t have to take me far, but I curl in closer to him with each step. When he leans over to set me down, I don’t release his neck, pulling him down with me. Hisoofin my ear makes me chuckle.
He folds his body around me, pressing his chest against my back.
“Sleep, Rory. I’m not going anywhere.”
I do just that, and I let myself believe him.
