Page 8 of Blowing His Horn

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Her arms wrapped around my torso, and she squeezed me with a sigh. “I love you too, Leland. I’m so happy you dreamed about a redhead stabbing you two years ago.”

Her tone was teasing, but I felt a punch of guilt that occasionally popped up to remind me that I was an asshole. Not because of the fake excuse to get her to dinner—that had been an obvious ploy, and she liked to give me shit about it. No, the guilt was because no matter how much I tried to make up for it, I hadn’t confessed the real reason I’d asked her out in the first place. Or the fact that I’d been helping Danny keep her best friend single for two years.

But like always, I shoved the feeling away and focused on the truth. I loved Olivia more than anything. She was mine, and nothing would ever change that.

Not without a hell of a fight.

3

Olivia

After the stress of finals and making the trek to my hometown, I would’ve loved nothing more than to sleep in until noon—preferably cuddled up naked in bed with Leland. Unfortunately, neither of those things was possible in my parents’ house. My mom was an early-morning person, which meant we all got up before eight, even on weekends and during vacations.

Dragging in a deep breath through my nose, the scent of bacon filled my nostrils. At least I was going to get a home-cooked meal with my favorite dishes as a reward for dragging my butt out of bed so early.

I tossed on a sweatshirt and pulled a pair of fuzzy socks over my feet before rushing out of my bedroom and downstairs to the kitchen. My mom was at the counter, cutting up some fruit, and my dad was cooking bacon on the stove. “Good morning.”

My mom’s smile of greeting widened when she noticed the word “taken” stretched across my chest in all capital letters. “Nice sweatshirt.”

“That boy.” My dad shook his head even as his lips curved up at the edges.

My mom glanced at him over her shoulder. “You’re just mad that he came up with the idea first.”

“Yeah, Dad,” I agreed with a grin as I padded across the tile floor, rounding the counter to give each of them a kiss on the cheek. “You have to admit you’d be totally fine with Mom wearing one just like this any time she leaves the house without you.”

“There you two go, ganging up against me like always.” He heaved an exaggerated sigh. “If we’d had a boy, then I wouldn’t be outnumbered all the time.”

I didn’t take offense to what he said since I knew he was only teasing. My dad had never given me any reason to think he’d truly wished he’d had a son instead of a daughter. I’d been his princess growing up, and he still doted on me. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to dish it right back at him. “The numbers are actually even right now since Leland is here. Unless you forgot because you’re getting up there in age? They say memory is the first thing to go.”

“I didn’t forget he was here,” my dad grumbled.

“How could you when you spent the entire night listening for the sound of his footsteps on the stairs?” my mom teased.

Thinking about what we’d done in the guest bedroom after I’d crept down those stairs, I felt my cheeks start to heat. I needed to make a quick exit before they figured out why I was embarrassed, and my boyfriend was the perfect excuse. “I’ll go make sure Leland is up and getting ready for breakfast.”

My dad pointed the tongs he was using to flip the bacon at me. “No hanky-panky while you’re in there.”

“The guest bedroom is just down the hall,” my mom reminded him with a roll of her eyes. “They’re not going to do anything they’d want us to be able to hear when we’re in the kitchen.”

“Definitely not,” I agreed as I moved toward the door.

My dad set the tongs on the paper towel lined plate next to the stove and crossed his arms as he leaned a hip against the counter. “Whether we can hear them or not doesn’t matter. That boy better not try anything with my baby girl while he’s under my roof, period.”

I pressed my lips together in a firm line to stop myself from confessing all my sins as I hurried out of the kitchen. Not that I actually felt guilty about anything Leland and I did together. But my dad would’ve been sorely tempted to kick my boyfriend’s ass if he ever found out we’d had sex in his house. And it would have been all my fault since I’m the one who always went looking for Leland.

He respected my dad too much to come creeping upstairs to my room, but I knew he would never turn me away. The chemistry between us was too strong to resist, rooted in our deep love for each other.


Tags: Fiona Davenport Erotic