Page 4 of Blowing His Horn

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My hope was that the two most important men in my life would have enough time during this trip to bond over their love for me...and that they wouldn’t butt heads too much.

After we walked up the steps, I paused to ask, “Ready for this?”

He flashed me a cocky grin and nodded. “I was born ready, baby.”

I was laughing when the door was flung open, and my mom came rushing out to give me a hug. She crashed into me hard enough that we would’ve toppled down the stairs if Leland hadn’t wrapped his arm around my back and held me in place. “You’re home!”

“Careful,” my dad warned, gripping her waist to pull her back as he gave Leland a chin lift to acknowledge that he’d saved us from a bad fall. Then his attention centered on me, and he wrapped me up in a hug. “Welcome home. Let’s get you inside where it’s warm.”

Leland muttered something about taking care of the bags while my dad ushered my mom and me into the house. He would have allowed the storm door to slam in my boyfriend’s face if I hadn’t turned back and quirked a brow.

My mom elbowed me in the side and rolled her eyes as my dad heaved a deep sigh while holding the door open for Leland. When I moved forward to grab one of my bags from him, he shook his head. “I’ve got them, baby.”

My mom beamed a smile at him. “Such a gentleman.”

Leland shook his head. “Just taking care of Olivia the way she deserves, Mrs. Hall.”

“How many times have I told you to call me Alice?” my mom chided.

“Often enough that I should have remembered, Alice,” Leland conceded with a sheepish grin.

There was an awkward silence when my dad didn’t echo my mom’s offer, yet again. It was ridiculous for Leland not to be able to use his first name when we’d been dating for two years and practically lived together on campus. If he didn't sleep over in my room at my sorority house, then I stayed with him at the fraternity. Although they didn’t know that since we were super careful to keep him off camera if they called to video chat early in the morning because I knew my dad would overreact.

My mom made a little tsk-ing sound and shook her head, but Leland took my dad’s silence in stride. Jiggling the handle of my large rolling suitcase, he suggested, “Why don’t I take the bags upstairs while you catch up with your parents?”

“Only her luggage,” my dad growled, pointing toward the first-floor guest bedroom past the stairs. “Yours stay down here.”

I bit my lip to stifle a giggle, earning myself a sideways glance from Leland. We shouldn’t have been surprised my dad pulled this move since he hadn’t allowed us to stay together the last time we’d visited either, but I’d been holding out hope that he’d finally gotten over his no sharing a bed under his roof rule.

There was zero chance that I could keep a straight face if I tried to argue that nothing would happen between Leland and me if we stayed in the same room, though. From our very first date—even before he’d asked me out, if I was being honest—it had been nearly impossible for me to keep my hands off him. The pull of attraction had been unlike anything I’d ever felt before. There was something about Leland that was catnip to me. His tall, muscular build, blond hair, and blue eyes sure didn’t hurt, but it was his confidence and sense of humor that I found even sexier.

“Yes, sir.” Leland dropped his backpack on the floor next to his suitcase and tugged on the strap of mine. After he slipped the bag off my back, he asked, “Want me to take your purse up, too?”

“Yes, please.” I pressed a quick kiss to his cheek as he flung my purse over his shoulder.

The display of affection elicited a growl from my dad and a soft sigh from my mom. I waited until Leland was out of earshot before I turned to my parents. “You need to get used to having Leland around, Daddy. It’s been two years now, and things are serious between us. He isn’t going anywhere,” I warned, crossing my arms over my chest.

His gaze dropped to where my left hand was tucked under my arm, his eyes narrowing. “Did that boy propose to you without talking to me first?”

My mom moved to stand next to me so that we were faced off against my dad together. “That sweet boy has a name, Anthony.”

“And he hasn’t asked me to marry him.” I pulled my hand out from under my arm and wiggled my fingers so he could see that they were bare for himself. Just as my dad started to look relieved, I added, “Yet.”


Tags: Fiona Davenport Erotic