Page 106 of Sawyer

Chuckling, I wrap my arms around Ava’s waist and pull her snug against me. “Thanks for the compliment. Turns out Ella isn’t a fan of sleepovers. I had to grab her from my brother’s at two in the morning.”

“Oh, Sawyer, Jesus. I’m so sorry. If you wanna go lie down?—”

“Nah.” I bury my face in her neck. “I only wanna lie down with you. Since that’s not an option, why don’t we have lunch instead?”

Her breath hitches when I turn my head a little, my scruff catching on her skin.

“Smells good in here.” She kisses my cheek, and my blood pulses. “Don’t tell me you made that soup from scratch.”

“Had to counterbalance the fake cheese somehow.”

“Sawyer.”

I tighten my grip on her waist. “Yeah, pretty girl?”

“I missed you.” It’s a whisper.

The intimacy of that admission, the sincerity in her voice—it splits me in half.

I kiss her neck. “I missed you too.”

Lord, what I’d give to be able to take her to bed right now. I’d lay her down. Fuck her slow, because in this fantasy we’d have all day and all night to spend together. Then I’d pull her to me and we’d fall asleep. After a long nap, we’d wake up and I’d fuck her again before making cocktails. She’d sip her mezcal negroni while I made some comfort food. Steaks, maybe, with roasted potatoes and my mom’s spinach and pecan salad. Something chocolate for dessert.

But then there’s a bang somewhere in the house, and I’m yanked back into messy, exhausting, very loud reality.

“Y’all okay?” I yell.

I hear a pair of giggles in reply.

“Thank God they’re cute.” I reluctantly let Ava go. “Thanks for comin’ over.”

She eyes me. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’ll be all right.” I run a hand over my face. “Just wish you and I could have a little more alone time is all.”

She grins. “If it makes you feel better, I should be free next Saturday and Sunday. It’s Dan’s weekend to take June, so …”

“Guess Ella will be practicing her sleepover again, ’cause I’m invitin’ you over to my place.”

“What if you come to mine? Leave the clothes, bring the condoms.”

Heat gathers in my dick. I reach over and grab her ass, giving it a hard, rude squeeze. “Consider it done.”

In the kitchen, Ava opens some longnecks while I make the grilled cheese. The girls are busy putting on every princess dress, bracelet, pair of sunglasses, and sparkly high-heeled shoes Ella owns.

“Wow,” Ava says with a gasp. “Ella, you look just like Rapunzel, only with a maximalist twist.”

“Rapunzel is my favorite!”

“I know. We watched it at my house when you came over this week, remember?”

Junie yelps with joy. “Can she come over again, Mommy, please?”

“She’s welcome any?—”

“Ow!” I don’t mean to shout. But like an idiot, I grabbed the lid of the skillet with my bare hand because I was so happy and so tired that I was clearly brain-dead.

I shake out that hand, gritting my teeth in an effort to calm—or maybe ignore—the screaming burn on my palm.

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