Page 83 of Callow

He held me like that afterward, his body touching mine from the top of my head to our thighs.

Eventually, I turned to face him, pressing a kiss to his chin.

“I’m suddenly really thankful I have a very quiet bed frame,” I said. “And a foam mattress.”

“Not gonna lie, this bed is nice as fuck.”

“Better than the couch?” I asked.

“Yeah. Mostly because I’m partial to the company,” he said, his arms going tightly around me.

God, I couldn’t agree more.

A part of me wanted to stay awake just to enjoy the feeling of being close to him, of feeling his strong arms around me.

But the comfort of his closeness meant that I was out cold within a few minutes.

And slept more soundly than I had in years.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Callow

It was Daph’s phone playing music in the kitchen that woke me up from the deepest fucking sleep I think I’d ever had.

And I knew it had nothing to do with the sex. And everything to do with having Sabrina sleeping with her head on my chest.

I didn’t want to get up even then, but I slowly rolled Sabrina onto her side, pulled up the covers, then slid to the edge of the bed.

I pulled on my liner, then my prosthetic before getting back into my pajama pants and tee, grabbing a change of clothes, and making my way out of the bedroom.

I’d never dated a mom before.

So making my way out of the kid’s mom’s room for the first time was surprisingly nerve-racking.

Catching the movement, Daph looked over her shoulder as I made my way into the bathroom where I took a hot shower, thanks to the fact that neither girl had gotten in there yet.

Once I’d changed into some jeans and a sweatshirt, I made my way back into the kitchen to find that Daph had already started a pot of coffee and set out two extra mugs.

“Thanks for this, kid,” I said as I poured myself a cup.

“Morning,” she said, giving me a small smile before turning back to put ingredients into a sturdy mixing bowl. “Ugh,” she grumbled a moment later while trying to mix with her good hand but holding the bowl still with her bad arm.

“What’re you doing over there?” I asked.

“Trying to make pancakes,” she said. “Chocolate chip is Mom’s favorite.”

“How about I do the mixing then you can take over again?” I asked, reaching for the whisk.

We worked side-by-side then, mixing, pouring, flipping, and plating pancakes then sides of fruit and some very well cooked scrambled eggs.

I’d been going toward the fridge to get the orange juice when I saw a movement from the hallway. Turning, I saw Sabrina leaning against the wall. She had her robe pulled over her pajama set from the night before. Her hair was bed-messy. And she was watching us with the softest fucking look in her hazel eyes.

I don’t think she’d ever looked more beautiful.

“I was gonna bring you breakfast in bed,” I told her. “Daph got up early to get the pancakes started. Chocolate chips,” I said. “I was told that’s your favorite.”

“It is,” she said, moving toward the kitchen. “Breakfast in bed sounds nice. But so does breakfast in the living room all together,” she said, rubbing her daughter’s shoulder as she passed her on her way to the coffee machine. Her hand ran across my stomach as she went. “Morning.”

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