Page 81 of Starting Over with You
“Dean.” Her voice is shaky, unsure, and I can’t help but quirk my lips at her.
“Kenni.”
She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out as I gaze into her eyes. I can see the fear, the uncertainty, but I don’t care. This girl is mine.
She’s always been mine.
“Shower?” She chews on her bottom lip, so I pull it out from between her teeth. “Say yes.”
“Together?” she asks, almost like she thinks I’ll say no.
“Always together,” I say, and her eyes widen ever so slightly. “Then we have a coffee date on the porch.”
Her eyes brighten, the sweetest smile coming over her lips. “We do.”
I love the excitement in her expression, the desire and need she has for me. I could live off that look alone, just knowing I put it on her face. I kiss her nose, then she kisses my top lip before nuzzling her nose against my mustache. I tighten my arms around her, and she does the same. And while I know we both need a shower, I can’t will myself to move.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO
Dean
Kenni’s legs are across my lap, her ass against my hip, while one of my arms is around her waist. I hold my coffee cup against her thigh. She holds her cup in her hands as she leans her head on my shoulder. I rock us while the birds sing, the bees buzz, and the morning air gets thicker as the sun rises over the mountains. A contented sigh leaves her lips, and my eyes fall shut at how perfect this feels.
This is what I wanted.
My person.
I turn my head, kissing her temple as she cuddles deeper into me. I ate her pussy against the shower wall before filling her and making her scream my name so loudly, I’m pretty sure her screams echoed off the mountains. Now she sits in my shirt that reaches her thighs and a pair of my boxers since I wouldn’t let her go back to the room she only slept in for one night. It isn’t her room—fuck no, our room is where she belongs. I take a sip of my coffee before leaning back against her temple.
“This is nice,” she whispers, almost as if she’s not sure she should admit it.
“It’s perfect.” I turn to look over at her, and she gives me a small grin. Her cheeks are rosy, her hair a mess and somewhat wet from where the water from the shower hit her when I was going down on her. She has beard burn all over her neck, along with little marks from my teeth. She looks ravished, and I’m fucking obsessed. “God, you’re fucking beautiful.”
Her eyes brighten and her lips tip up higher as she leans in, pressing her nose to mine. “Stop.”
“Never,” I promise, rubbing my nose along hers. “I can’t not tell you that.”
Her lips curve ever so beautifully, and I press mine to hers. She falls into the kiss, my body lighting on fire when her tongue peeks out to slide along my lips. I open for her, and the kiss turns desperate and needy. I’m about to toss my fucking coffee cup and pull her to straddle my lap when her phone rings.
We pull apart, and I glare at her playfully. “I thought I said no phones?”
She gives me a shy smile. “The boys usually call in the morning.” I narrow my gaze, but then she gives me a smacking kiss, and there is no way I could be mad at her. She pulls her phone from under her thigh, and I watch as her brows pull in. “Damn it,” she mutters before answering. “Hello? Hey. No, that’s fine.” I watch as her face morphs from beauty to pure fury. “What does that even mean? He can do that? Even though he signed? But he’s only doing that to try to prolong this to a year. Surely we can fight this.” When she starts to tremble, I take her cup and mine then put them on the floor before wrapping my arms around her and nuzzling her neck. She relaxes slightly but then bites out, “Fine. Okay. Yeah, if I need to come up there, I will.”
Yeah, so will I.
“Thank you. Okay. No, that’s fine. Call anytime. Thank you. Bye.”
When she hangs up, I don’t move. I only hold her as shebreathes in and out. Her voice is small, rough, as she says, “Stratford’s lawyer contacted mine and said he doesn’t want the divorce. He’s rescinding his signature.”
I hold her tighter. “Okay. What’s the plan?”
“My lawyer is fighting it. I have proof of his affair, his other children, plus I made copies of the trust that says we had to be together for twenty years. My lawyer is confident, but I may have to go to court.”
“I’ll go with you.” She melts against me, and I nuzzle deeper into her neck. “It’ll be okay.”
I can hear the tears in her voice when she whispers, “I’m not divorced.”
