Page 95 of From Nowhere

“I saw several cardboard flats of seedlings in the garage. Are you planting a garden?” I ask.

“Yes, I was supposed to do that for Tia today. She nearly canceled their trip just to get her seedlings in the garden. But their car didn’t start, so my day veered off course. And on top of that, Lola desperately hopes I’ll paint her room and hang her colored LED strip lighting.”

“Then let’s do that. We can paint tonight. We’ll hang the LED lights tomorrow morning and plant the garden.” I set the last clean dish aside because I don’t know where anything goes.

Ozzy drains the water with a familiar smirk. “I don’t want to do any of that other stuff.”

I throw the towel at him, and he catches it. “I know what you want to do, but I think we should take longer breaks fromthatand get these things done so Lola will want to spend more nights with her grandma. And Tia will trust you to do what she asks and, therefore, feel good about leaving you home alone again.”

He prowls toward me, tossing the towel onto the counter.

I can’t. Not yet. He’s literally going to break my vagina. Or I’m going to die of orgasms. My voice is already a little hoarse from so much screaming.

“Thank you for coming,” he whispers, brushing his lips along my cheek to my ear while caging me in with his hands on the counter behind me.

I chuckle. “I don’t know if you’re referencing my staying here with you or the other coming. But either way, it’s my pleasure.”

“So, painting?” He teases my earlobe with his teeth.

“Yes. Let’s paint.”

“Then we get naked again.” He palms my ass, pulling me closer so I can feel his erection. “My face between your legs ...,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue along my neck. “Sucking your pussyandyour fingers while you touch yourself. God, I love that.”

He’s a machine.

I blush while angling my neck to let him kiss his way down to my shoulder. I never imagined this side of Ozzy Laster. He was my tampon-fetching knight. The endearing father riding his bike with his sweet daughter. Not a dirty-talking sex fiend.

I like—I love—every side of him.

“Yes,” I say, a little breathy. “It will be your reward.”

And mine.

He stands straight, lips corkscrewed for a few seconds, politely ignoring my hard nipples. “Then let’s get to it.”

“Tell me about your family,” Ozzy says while we cut in the purple paint in Lola’s bedroom a little before nine. It’s going to be a long night. “I know you lost your brother. Do you have other siblings?”

“I have no other siblings. My parents live in Nebraska. They’re farmers. That’s how I got started in flying and crop-dusting. Brandon couldn’t wait to head west, so after he graduated, he moved to Missoula to pursue his career as a firefighter. I graduated two years after him. I worked on the farm for several years, then packed my bag to follow Brandon.”

“How have your parents been since his death?” Ozzy asks.

I dip my brush into the bucket of paint. “My mom will never be the same, the way I’m sure Tia will never be the same. But my dad keeps chugging along. It’s not that he doesn’t miss Brandon; he’s just better at suppressing his emotions. The harder he works, the less he thinks about Brandon. I was that way. After his death, all I wanted to do was get in my plane and do my job, but they forced me to take time off. So I sat at home thinking about him, and it was torture. My mom doesn’t keep as busy as my dad, so she has more time—too much time—to miss him.”

Ozzy doesn’t respond right away. But after a few minutes, he releases a deep sigh. “I couldn’t work after Brynn died. Cielo had just hired me, but I couldn’t work because Lola needed me. I can’t look at her and not see Brynn because Lola is a spitting image of her. And I can’t not think of the accident because Lola wears it on her face. So last fall, when Tia and Amos suggested they sell their ranch and come live with us so I could return to work, I felt this huge weight lift from my chest. And it didn’t matter that they had their issues with me. It didn’t matter that I knew living with them would feel like I was less of a father and a man. I justneededsomething that didn’t remind me of the tragedy.”

He grunts while shaking his head and pouring paint into the roller pan. “How messed up is it that I needed time away from the most important person in my life? What does that say about me?”

“Ozzy—”

“No.” He cuts me off with a painful laugh. “It was a rhetorical question. I know I deserve time alone. I know I need it. I had to have this conversation with Lola before this weekend. You get to this point where you know you can no longer swim, so you have two choices: drown or yell for help. I’m learning to yell for help because I don’t want to drown. Lola needs me, and I want to believe that I have a lot of life left to live at thirty-six.”

I hand him the roller. “Ozzy, I think you’ve been living your best life over the past five hours.”

He barks a laugh before cupping the back of my neck and kissing me. Then he releases my lips but keeps a hold of me, gazing intently into my eyes. “I needed you so fucking long before I ever met you,” he whispers. “You showed up out of nowhere, the way I bet your plane cuts through the smoke to deliver relief.Ihave felt so much relief since I met you.”

We’re going to finish painting this room before having sex again, but right now, I’m the one who wants to tear off our clothes and spend hours in bed with him because no man has ever made me feel this way.

So. In. Love.

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