Page 65 of When We Met

Morgan smiles at her, giving her a goofy face from across the table. “We’d make a good team, Cam!”

Naturally, she scowls at him. “Camdyn.”

“How long have you and Bishop been married, Lara Lynn?” Kacy asks, taking a small sip from her whiskey and inching her fingers higher. Her pinky strokes the side of my dick, and I jump, clearing my throat like I’m choking. I am choking on what-the-fuck-is-she-doing?

Lara Lynn pays me no mind, as does everyone else, and smiles tenderly at Kacy. “About ten years, right, honey?” She looks to my dad for confirmation.

“Yes, ma’am.”

They entertain their small talk, and I fight with my own self-control to take Kacy’s hand and shove it down the front of my jeans and tell her, “If you’re going to touch it, mean it.” But I don’t. I have a surprising amount of willpower.

Morgan is on my other side and smacks my elbow the second I reach for my beer. “Psst,” he whispers, as if his presence hadn’t already been announced when he smacked me and my beer went into my mashed potatoes.

“What?” I growl, picking my beer up.

“You spilled your beer.”

I glance over at him. His eyes are half-lidded, and I realize he’s been drinking out of his flask for the last hour. “You spilled it.”

“I did not,” he snaps, looking like he wants to hit me for suggesting it. Here’s the thing about Morgan when he’s been drinking tequila. You know he doesn’t make good decisions, but he also doesn’t have reasoning skills and argues until he’s blue in the face. Right or wrong.

I rip the flask from the pocket of his flannel. “Give me that.”

In the process of Morgan and I fighting over a flask, I hear commotion under the table and realize Sev isn’t on Tilly’s lap anymore but underneath the table.

Before I have time to knock Kacy’s hand away, Sev giggles. “Daddy? Why Kacy touchin’ your boy parts?”

Kacy jumps in her seat, snaps her hand back, and then bursts out laughing.

Morgan takes his flask back while I’m distracted. “Don’t take shit that doesn’t belong to you.”

I draw in a deep breath and shift in the chair, trying to conceal my erection from my kid. “She wasn’t,” I’m quick to say. “She was looking for her napkin.”

“I got a napkin you can use,” Morgan says, winking at Kacy and taking another pull from his flash.

I give Carly a “what the fuck” look that goes unnoticed. What does she care? She’s divorcing his ass. My next plea to contain Morgan goes to Aunt Tilly across from me. If anyone can control Morgan, it’s mean Aunt Titty, as he used to call her. Only she’s talking to Camdyn about Christmas bullshit and is absolutely no help.

“Morgan.” Lara Lynn sighs and hands him coffee. “Drink this.”

“No thanks,” he says politely.

Carly glares at him and then leans forward to catch my eyesight. “Nice.” Her eyes dip low to my crotch. “In front of your children?”

I’d love to say that our family suppers are never this hectic, but I’d be lying. They usually are.

After an eventful dinner and a lot of sexual frustration, we pile in the side by side and head back to my house. Kacy takes another shower in my bathroom while I get the kids ready for bed. They talk nonstop about Christmas after Aunt Tilly got them all wound up about Santa.

Or it might have something to do with the fifteen-foot-tall Christmas tree in our living room that’s decorated only on the bottom four feet.

When their baths are finished, and I’ve gotten them water, ice packs, and everything else under the sun they ask for, I press my ear to the door and listen.

“Can I sleeps on the big bunk?” I hear Sev ask Camdyn. It still cracks me up that they have their own rooms, but they insist on sharing one together.

“No.” There’s a thud, and I imagine she’s thrown a pillow off the bed and at her sister. “Go to sleep.”

“If you sleeps on the bottom, I can sleeps ups there.”

“Sev.No. Sleep.”

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