Page 48 of Rough Daddy
"Soon," Beau answers before I can speak. "Real soon."
"Christmas," I clarify, laughing at his impatience. "We want Ethan settled first. And I want him to walk me down the aisle."
Ethan's head snaps up, syrup-covered fork halfway to his mouth. "Really?"
"Of course,really. You're my family. You're giving me away to this grumpy mountain man."
"I'm not grumpy," Beau protests, then immediately glares when Cade reaches for the last piece of bacon. "Touch that and lose a finger."
"Not grumpy at all," I agree solemnly.
The table is laughter and cursing, but I catch Ethan wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. A month ago, he was trapped in a house where he was a product, not a person. Now he's part of this beautiful, chaotic family, where love means teasing and protecting and showing up for each other no matter what.
Beau's hand moves up my thigh, thumb stroking dangerously close to the heat still thumping between my legs. Even in the middle of family breakfast, he needs to touch me, and luckily, he hasn’t broken me yet.
"You okay, princess?" He brushes his lips on my cheek.
I look around the table—at Ethan laughing as Legend shows him memes on his phone, at the brothers ribbing each other mercilessly while their wives roll their eyes, at children sticky with syrup and dogs begging for scraps under the table.
This beautiful, messy, perfect chaos became my life when I crashed into a car wash in Wildfire and found my home.
"More than okay," I whisper back. "I'm exactly where I belong."
His smile could power the whole mountain. "That's my girl."
And when he grabs the back of my head and crushes our lips together as the kids groan and make ‘ewww’ sounds, I know he's right.
I'm his girl. His family. His home.
And he's mine, forever.
Sixteen
Beau
Five Years Later
She waddles into the garage like she’s not the hottest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen, belly out, tits heavy, wearing my goddamn flannel shirt with nothing under it but a pair of cotton panties. And I know they’re already soaked through. Hell, I’d bet my whole goddamn garage on it.
Eight months pregnant with our second, leaking through every bra she owns, waddling like she’s got my cock still buried in her from this morning.
Tessa Boone acts like she don’t know what she’s doing to me.
She does.
She fucking does.
And she’s laughing at something on her phone.
Inside, Ethan’s babysitting Carla with a juice pouch probably reading her The Dark Tower for the tenth time, pretending he’s not as soft as a damn marshmallow when she climbs up in his lap.
He turned nineteen last month and we had a blow out for him at Sunday brunch. Invited his friends from Interlochen where he’s in his first year studying drama and music.
When he was allowed to decide for himself what he wanted to do, turned out the kid was a freakin’ musical genius. He’s had a garage band since he made some friends at Wildfire High when he got here and he’s had a few acting gigs in commercials.
Tessa manages his creative business stuff. He’s one hundred percent balls out when he’s into something. I can’t wait to see what he future holds for him.
But, part of him is still childlike. He still asks me before he drives anywhere, still sleeps with his door cracked open so Tessa doesn’t worry. She raised him. And now he’s ours.
