I dipped my head her direction, whispered at her ear, “Why’s that sound like the best damned payback I’ve ever been offered?”
She giggled and headed for my kitchen. “I see how it is. You want me when I’m baking for you.”
A growl slipped free, my eyes honing in on the slow sway of her delicious ass as I followed her. Voice lowered to keep my next words from little ears. “Oh, believe me, baby, I want you all the time. But you don’t actually think I’m going to refuse you cooking for me, do you? Especially considering I was just about to take out a frozen pizza to toss into the oven.”
Setting the bags on the counter, she looked back at me with a feigned gasp. “Blasphemy.”
I set the bags I was carrying beside them. “A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.”
Her expression went tender, and she reached up, cupping my cheek in one of those soft, soft hands. “And you should know I would consider it an honor that I get to help with that now.”
She peeked in the direction of the hall where we could hear Frankie playing, talking and squealing, living in her own blissful little world. “Is this okay? That I’m here? I don’t want to confuse her or rush you. I just . . . I wanted to spend the evening with you. With her,” she added quickly, like it might scare me away.
And fuck. Yeah. It scared me, just not the way she was probably thinking. I wanted it, I was just too scared to hope for it. But it didn’t matter, that anticipation was right there, strumming an escalating beat inside of me.
Savage and fierce. As fierce as the storm that rattled the windowpanes and drummed on the roof.
I threaded my fingers through hers, brought her knuckles to my lips. “What do you say we take it slow in front of her? Get her used to the two of us. She’s gonna have questions, and when she does, we answer them.”
She worried her lip, peeking up at me. “And what’s the right answer, Rex?”
Releasing her hand, I let my fingers glide into those silky locks of damp hair. That was all the contact I needed for my chest to tighten, for the things held within to go haywire. A disorder that was shifting into something new. I pulled her closer and set a kiss to her forehead, murmured against it, “We tell her we care about each other. Simple as that.”
Did she know that’s how I was feeling? Did she know every time I looked at her, another piece crumbled out from under me, my footing no longer my own?
I leaned down, my mouth barely brushing the edge of hers. “I want you here.” I inched even closer, the heat of her body lighting me up. “Really fucking want you here. In the end, I think that’s all that matters.”
I moved to grip her by the waist, and her breath caught as my fingers cinched around her, everything growing thick when I let my nose trace up the column of her neck.
That overpowering scent was back. Radiating from her skin. Sweet, sweet bliss. Cherry pie.
I groaned, and she exhaled, then we both froze when we heard the pound of little feet thunder down the hall.
I stepped back, putting space between us, and a rush of redness bloomed on Rynna’s neck.
Like she’d been caught.
It was so fucking cute.
Frankie skidded to a stop at the end of the hall when she saw Rynna in the kitchen. “Rynna! What’s you doin’ here?”
My daughter kicked right back into action, flying across the floor, jumping around in front of Rynna to grab her attention.
As if she didn’t already have it. Because Rynna smiled when she saw my kid. Smiled like it meant something.
A bolt of old fear struck somewhere deep in my chest. A warning that I’d crossed a line when I’d let Rynna into our lives. That I’d been begging for trouble. Taunting me with a reminder of that penalty I’d forever serve. Punishment for what I’d done. Did I think I was exempt?
Rynna knelt in front of my daughter, her expression soft, almost as soft as the way she brushed her fingers through Frankie’s wild mane of hair.
“I thought maybe you could help me make dinner. What do you think about that?”
Frankie’s eyes went wide with excitement. “Really? I gets to make dinner? Oh yes! Are we gonna make a Pepper Pie?” She threaded those tiny fists together, pressing her hands up under her chin in a plea. “Oh, please, let’s make a Pepper Pie!”
Light laughter fluttered from between Rynna’s lips. Those goddamned lust-inciting lips. I tried not to think about them wrapped around me when she tugged one of Frankie’s hands free and hooked her pinkie finger with Frankie’s tiny one. A team. “Did you think we’d make anything else? How about a shepherd’s pie and then a cherry pie?”