Page 22 of Merry with a Brewmaster
“Okay…”
“And well, I was asking Reece what happens here, and she knew the school had done it in the past and Haven isreallyexcited and I just wanted to make sure she gets the experience she deserves.”
“So you organized an event so my daughter can be a unicorn?”
“Alicorn,” I correct him with a smirk. “Yes. And citizens and businesses can decorate their cars or trucks and the school will pick a winner. So far, Isaac agreed to do one, the fire department, Reece is doing her own because she loves me, and at least half the businesses I called today were on board.”
Wells opens his mouth and then closes it before dragging his hands down his face. “Do you know how hard you make it not to kiss you all the damn time?” He groans, the sound muffled but no less amusing.
“It’s part of my charm,” I quip a little too haughtily because when he finally looks at me, there’s fire in his eyes that I can feel absolutely everywhere.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Siren.”
My lips part at the gruffness in his voice, and I immediately turn to grab a spatula from the utensil jar and point it at him.
“Back away with that sex voice.”
He shakes his head, the lust seeming to dissipate and morphing into amusement. “Is that what you’re gonna use to defend yourself?” He snorts and nods toward the pancake flipper. “I think the best you could do is spank me with it, and you already know I like when you get a little wild.”
I growl and he laughs as he puts his hands up in surrender and backs away.
“Out,” I hiss because what else can I do? The man knows how to press all of my favorite buttons, and it’s severely less fun when there are no orgasms that follow.
“I’m going.”
“You’re decorating a car and handing out candy!” I yell at him and he laughs, waving at me without looking back as he walks down the hall.
Tossing the spatula on the counter, I can’t wipe the smile from my face. Playful Wells is dangerous and a whole lot of fun—my favorite combination.
But it’s not justusmessing around anymore, and Haven deserves the stability we’ve created since I started.
Sighing, I slam the spatula back into the utensil jar, but the upturn of my lips remains. Wells Reiser might not be mine, but I can still enjoy whatever this is between us.
At least for now.
11
WELLS
With each day closer to Halloween, my house somehow acquired more decorations or lights orsomethingfestive. Haven couldn’t stop talking about her costume and swore I couldn’t see the finished product until today for the trunk or treat event.
As negotiated with Vienna, I’d gone to the store and grabbed enough things to turn the back of my sensible dad SUV into a magical fairy woodland scene. Haven had been thrilled, and I’d earned a thumbs-up from Vienna for tying my design into the unicorn—alicorn—vibe.
“Girls! We’re gonna be late!” I yell from the kitchen as Haven bounds down the stairs and barrels into me at full speed. I grunt and make a show of bending over at the impact, making her giggle and shove my shoulder.
“Daddy!” She laughs and then steps back and frowns. “Where’s your costume?”
“I’m a tired dad, can’t you tell?”
“Daaaad,” she whines, and I kiss the top of her curled and sprayed hair.
“I have to do a lot of moving around, so I have something to change into after we get there and set up.”
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Vienna calls, her voice muffled over the sound of the garbage bag in her hand.
“What is…”
Holy fucking hell.
