“Hello! Sit down, sit down. I was just coming down for a visit, but I won’t keep you.” Except I don’t sit down, because even though that’s what she insisted, Mrs. McCray is also wrapping me up in a hug. This isn’t the first time I’ve met her. We all know each other around town for one reason or another, but she was basically on the welcome wagon when I showed up here the first day. Tonight, well, let’s just say I’ll be staying with Trace all night and I’ve got plans of my own for him and me.
“What are you up to today?” I ask her. She sits down in the other oversized wicker chair with plush cushions on them, something I’m sure is her doing.
“Oh, this and that. I do want to talk to you about a little incident that happened earlier this week.” I wring my hands, knowing this was going to come out at some point. I just didn’t think Mrs. McCray would be the one to hear about it, but I should have known. That’s the one problem in small towns—news always seems to travel fast.
“I promise it wasn’t anything big, and it was handled. Those two know how to make digs and say the worst things ever to people, but I think they may watch what they say from now on.” I shrug my shoulders,
“That doesn’t mean you have to deal with that, not anymore. Let’s just say this Mama Bear won’t allow that, and something tells me if you let Trace know what happened, he’ll be hell bent on putting them in their place,” she states.
“Which is why I’m not going to. I have an inkling they’ll leave me alone from now on and hopefully, they’ve learned that if you talk shit, at least do it where no one can hear you.” Apparently, my nerves have calmed down enough to where I’m basically verbally vomiting on Trace’s mom. “Sorry, uh, for speaking like that to you.” I try to fix my mess up, hopefully before I make the wrong impression.
“I think you’ll fit right in with us. You have that fire deep inside of you. Yep, between Blakely, you, and myself, these men will be on the edge of their seats the entire time. I’m not going to keep you, but just know I’ll want to read whatever you’re working on.” She winks, stands up, and my mouth is practically hanging open at what she just said. The fitting-in part and her wanting to read what I’m working on. Even if she has no idea what it is, a smile takes over my face and I get back to my work, wanting to get a few more things done with my work before Trace is home for the night.
Thirteen
Trace
The past three days Dove has been here, it’s been the same thing—dinner is usually done, and if it’s not, I have no problem cozying up to Dove and helping in any way I can. Tonight is no different, well, maybe a little bit. She’s at the stove, unaware that I’ve walked in, which might have something to do with me being as quiet as a mouse. Dove’s wearing one of my flannel shirts, and it looks like she doesn’t have a stitch of clothing on underneath.
I close the door, staying completely quiet, walk up towards her. She’s got music playing in the background, something country with a bit of rock, slow crooning in it, and I know just what I’m about to do with my woman. My hands move to the sides of her hips. Dove’s head rests back on my shoulder. Apparently, I’m not as quiet as I thought.
“Hey, sugar.” My lips land on the side of her neck, to the underside of her ear, and I watch as Dove’s body shivers.
“Hey, yourself.” She spins around in my arms, hands looping around the back of my neck. My lips meet hers, our tongues tangling together, her body against mine, and I know without a doubt she can feel what her mouth alone does to me.
“Did you have a good day?” she asks when our kiss ends.
“It was good. Heard Mom came over.” I arch my eyebrow to see if she’s ever going to tell me what happened in town. So far, she hasn’t, and I’m beginning to think she never will. If that doesn’t show me how strong and how much of a fighter my woman is, I don’t know what will.
“She did but didn’t stay long.” I move us away from the stove, my hands not leaving her hips as the two of us sway to the music that’s playing in the background. The tips of my fingers pulling at the fabric hanging down her thighs.
“I’ve got another question for you, sugar.” I take her lips again.