Page 46 of The Bastard's Lily
“You’re still here!” he blurts, voice high with morning excitement. He scoots closer, half on my chest now. “Mama too?”
Calla props herself on an elbow, laughing low. “Still here, buddy.”
Beau’s attention snaps back to me. “Can I see your tattoos?” He pokes a chubby finger toward the ink on my forearm. “All of ’em.”
I grin, pushing up the blanket. “All of ’em, huh? That might take a while.”
He gasps like I just promised him a dragon. “Cool.”
Calla’s laugh warms the room, richer than the sun sneaking through the curtains. “You two are going to be trouble,” she says, sliding out of bed. My shirt rises just enough that I can catch a cheeky little glimpse of her perfect ass.
“Breakfast,” she adds, feet soft on the floor as she heads for the kitchen.
I can’t stop staring. The sway of her hips. The long spill of her hair. The way she belongs in this house, like it’s always been ours. Beau tugs at my arm, babbling a hundred questions about skulls and flames and if the tattoos hurt. I answer on autopilot, eyes still on her.
God, I’m so fucking in love with that woman.
Beau wriggles out of the blankets like a shot of caffeine in human form. “Come on!” he yells in a whisper, tugging on my wrist with all four-year-old determination. “You gotta see my cartoons. And my toys. And—and my rainbow dinosaur! I made it for Uncle Grimm last night. He said it’s the best dinosaur ever.”
I chuckle, letting him haul me upright. Kid’s strong for a beanpole. “Yeah? Rainbow dinosaur sounds like serious business.”
“It IS!” He’s already halfway to the door, bare feet slapping the floor. “And Uncle Grimm said he’s gonna get me a puppy. A big puppy. Like… THIS big!” He stretches his arms as wide as they’ll go, nearly toppling over.
A puppy.I snort under my breath, grabbing yesterday’s tee from the chair as I follow. Grimm’s got some explaining to do.
Beau spins back, impatient. “Hurry, Rook!”
The name hits different every time he says it, like it’s always been meant for this exact moment.
“Alright, alright, little man,” I say, raking a hand through my hair as I step into the hallway. “Show me what you got.”
The living room’s still washed in early light, cartoons already yammering on the TV. Toys scatter across the rug like a minefield of plastic trucks and action figures. Beau dives straight into the chaos, digging out a sheet of paper covered in furious crayon streaks—reds and purples and a neon green tail.
“Rainbow dinosaur,” he announces proudly, holding it up like a trophy.
I take it, give it the kind of serious once-over a masterpiece deserves. “This thing could eat the whole world.”
Beau beams so hard it damn near splits me open. From the kitchen, the smell of coffee drifts in, and I catch a glimpse ofCalla moving between cabinets, sunlight catching the curve of her shoulder. My whole chest tightens again.Yeah. This is it. This is everything.
The living room goes quiet except for the cartoon voices. Beau’s sunk into the couch, eyes wide, toys forgotten in his lap. Perfect distraction.
I pad across the hall, drawn by the smell of coffee and the soft scrape of Calla moving around the kitchen like she’s always belonged there. Morning light spills across her back, catching in the loose tumble of her hair. Couldn’t stay on that couch if I tried.
I slip in behind her, palms finding the familiar curve of her waist. She startles just enough to make me grin, then melts back against me.
“Morning, angel,” I murmur against her shoulder, brushing a slow kiss there, then another at the warm spot just below her ear.
“You’re gonna make me burn the bacon,” she whispers, but her head tilts anyway.
“Worth the risk,” I breathe, letting the words trail lower—something soft that’s all mine, something wicked just for her.
She giggles, a sound that wrecks me more than any roar of a bike. Her free hand reaches back and smacks my side, light but sharp enough to warn. “Behave, Wilder.” I nip once more at herneck, laughing when she shoves a plate of bacon into my hands. “If you’re gonna lurk, you can be useful. Table. Now.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I steal one last kiss on her shoulder before stepping away, the smell of bacon and the sound of her laughter following me like a promise.
I set the bacon down just as Calla crosses the kitchen, balancing a platter of fruit and a stack of waffles that smell like pure heaven.
“Breakfast, Beau!” she calls.
