Page 88 of Casita Casanova
In the meantime, I clean up the beach, grabbing the blanket and wine, then tossing a cooler bag over my shoulder.
Our dinner is untouched in the bag.
My cock is untouched in my pants—and he’s pissed. The hammer has never had to work so hard for anything in his life.
My balls are so tight they fucking hurt. Blue Balls and an angry Thor make it difficult to walk, but I’m not going to make Maryn face her kid alone. Two tangoed, two can face the music.
I’ll need to go straight to the shed and pull some jeans on before I introduce myself to her daughter, though, because these joggers don’t hide a goddamn thing.
I pause as their voices carry down to me. I can’t hear the words, but they’re definitely heated. Something in my gut drives me forward, taking the stairs two at a time.
If that kid’s anything like her father, I won’t fucking stand by and let her make Maryn feel ashamed for what we were doing.
Becauseholy fuck, that was hot.
The sounds that woman makes should be a fucking soundtrack.
I reach the top of the stairs and make a beeline for the shed, switching into my Dolce jeans quickly and then making my way up the back porch and in through the open back door.
The daughter’s eyes land on me, then Maryn’s follow, widening when she sees me. Then her face hardens.
Oh. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to show my face around these parts. Well, too fucking bad. After what her ex did to her last night, I feel protective as fuck over this woman and I’m not going to just hide out in the shed.
Her daughter looks back and forth between us, then laughs bitterly.
God, she looks so much like her mom it’s crazy.
“Now I get it,” the girl says.
“What?” Maryn asks.
Her daughter looks back and forth between us and I brace myself because the look in her eyes is spiteful. I recognize it; she’s equally her father, and those are his eyes. I glance at Maryn, but she’s so focused on her daughter that a plane could crash into the side of the house and she wouldn’t even notice.
“He said, ‘If Mom can move on, why can’t I?’”
Maryn releases a sound so full of anguish, I almost rush to her side. After a few beats, I do just that, positioning myself in front of her. “Look, kid, your mom is an adult.”
She laughs. “Really? Because what I saw just now at the beach—”
“Was none of your business.” I raise an eyebrow at her. “I won’t stand here and let you make her feel bad for moving on with her life.”
She flinches from my words and Maryn steps up beside me, patting my hand. “I can handle this.”
I look down into her eyes. She nods and I step backwards, leaning against the counter. She holds my gaze pointedly, then flicks her eyes toward the shed.
Yeah, about that. There’s not a chance I’m leaving her to deal with this alone. I smirk and cross my arms.
Someone honks out front.
The kid’s eyes go wide and flick to the door.
I tilt my head, watching her as realization heats my blood.
“Ari…?” Maryn’s voice is soft, hesitant.
The kid’s face pales.
“Who is that…?”
