Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Daddy!”
I rolled off the bed and went to the open door that joined the two rooms and found Sam there, his duffel and garment bag on the floor at his feet, holding his daughter up off the ground as he squeezed her tight. Once he put her down, he caught his son up in a bear hug that Kola relaxed into, the deep sigh coming up out of him. When he finally let go, he turned to me.
“I can’t wait to hear this.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I wanted you to have time to be you.”
“I did that already.”
“When?”
“Before I met you,” he answered matter-of-factly.
I shook my head. “Everybody needs time to just be themselves, Sam.”
He nodded, moving closer until he was there, looming over me. I had to tip my head back to see his face, as I had been doing forever.
“I didn’t want to intrude.”
“Yeah, you said that already,” he grumbled as he took my face in his hands.
I had no idea what caused my eyes to fill. It was probably the sangria, as I’d had more than one glass.
“What’d you drink?”
“Nothing,” I said, sniffling, wiping away a few stray tears.
“Sangria,” Hannah offered, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “He’s turning into such a lightweight.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but Sam bent and kissed me, lifting me up after a moment and crushing me against the wall of muscle that he was. I wrapped my legs around his narrow hips and coiled my arms around his neck, holding on tight and kissing him breathless. He had to break the kiss for air.
“God, Jake’s parents never act like this,” Kola groused, making a gagging noise as Sam’s hooded eyes met mine.
“Go in there and do that,” Hannah said, pushing on Sam, trying to steer him into our room. “Kola, take Dad’s stuff.”
“Say please.”
“Uh, whatever. Please.”
Kola was in and out of our room before Sam started walking, finally carrying me through the door and falling down onto the bed with me in his arms. Before he could squash me, he rolled to his back, bringing me with him, so I wound up straddling his hips with his hands on my thighs. It was very hot, the way I was manhandled and shucked forward so my ass slid over his groin. Putting my hands flat on his pectorals, I stared down into the now darkening slate-blue eyes that I loved.
“Speak,” he ordered.
“I told you already, I wanted you to have time to yourself. For yourself. There’s nothing wrong with that. There’s nothing selfish. You deserve some time off sometimes.”
He grunted.
“Come on, you know I––”
“Do you love being a father?”
“Of course I do, that’s not what I––”
“And do you love being a husband?”
I tried to move, but his hands gripping my thighs were like steel bands. I wasn’t going anywhere if he didn’t allow it. “Sam, there’s nothing wrong with––”
“Some people take vacations together without their kids. Some people go on retreats with friends, or go off for the weekend alone to meditate or whatever. There’s ladies’ night out or guys’ night out, and that’s great, and if that’s what you need, then you should have that, but I need you to hear me this time instead of trying to do my thinking for me.”
“I don’t try and––”
“Yeah, ya do. You always have, and for the most part, because no one knows me as well as you, you’re right on target. But with this, you’re really not.”
“Sam, you––”
“Kiss me again,” he husked, and the sound of him and the heat in his eyes was not something I had ever been able to say no to.
Leaning over, braced on his chest, I kissed him deeply and whimpered in the back of my throat. His low, decadent chuckle made me pull back and stare down at him.
“If I have a choice, ever,” he whispered, his gaze unwavering, “I want to be with you guys. I like being a husband the best. I like being a father the best. I am most me,” he said, stressing the word, “when I’m with you guys. I’m the most comfortable, the most calm, the most living well in my skin when I’m holding your hand.”
I squinted so I wouldn’t cry.
“For crissakes, how many drinks did you have?”
“Shut up, you’re saying good stuff.”
He rolled his eyes at me. “You’re exhausting.”
“Sam,” I scolded him.
He reached up and cupped my face in his hands like he had earlier. “Just don’t think for me, all right? One of the other guys brought his family, and I was so jealous, but I thought you had to work, so I didn’t even ask.”
“No, I finished my project early so I could surprise you,” I said as he moved his hands back to my thighs.
“I hate surprises, you know that.”