He huffed an angry breath and leveled me with a furious stare. “Don’t, Sawyer. Justdon’t.You slept with mydaughterbehind my back. What am I supposed to say? That I think it’s great?”
The subtle implication—that I used his daughter for sex—stung.
“You can be mad at me,” I said hotly, “just don’t take it out on her. You want to fire me? Fine, I’ll walk away from our business. But you treated your daughter like you thought she was…cheap trash or something. Like what we did was wrong and dirty. You’re devastating her.”
Clive didn’t respond, but his angry gaze burned into me. I kept going, determined to get everything out.
“She’s happy that she’s pregnant, Clive.We’rehappy,” I continued, needing him to know that. “She’s the love of my life, and I don’t regret anything. I never thought I would get another chance at this, at being happy and in love with a future to look forward to, and I’ll be goddamned if I’m going to waste it.”
He looked down and shook his head. “You’re twice her age and she’s still so damn young, Sawyer.”
“Young and brilliant and successful,” I returned. “She knows herself and she knows what she wants. You trusted her to move to Seattle on her own, accept a big loan from you to start a business—why can’t you trust her to know what she wants with her personal life?”
I rose to my feet and turned toward the door. “Your daughter and I are happy. You need to decide if your anger is worth more to you than your relationship with your daughter and your grandchild.”
Just before I turned the knob and walked out, I looked back at Clive, who sat slumped in a chair. He looked…miserable.
“Our door is always open,” I said, forcing some gentleness into my tone. “Don’t be a stranger.”
And then I went home. Home to the mother of my child, who still slept peacefully on her side of the bed. I crumpled up the note I’d left on the pillow, then stripped and slid in next to her. Without waking, she rolled easily into my arms. I dropped a kiss in her dark mane and was out in minutes. Regardless of what happened with Denton, we would figure everything out because we had each other.
I dreamed of a big house with a lush yard and a swing set in the back, where our children could grow and thrive. Chubby-cheeked kids with flyaway hair and grass-stained knees. The family I’d never let myself imagine until now.
The next day was Sunday, and we slept late, tangled sleepily in the soft covers, exchanging whispers and soft kisses that deepened until I tugged my old sweatshirt over Marcie’s head and shucked off my boxer shorts to slide into her soft, eager body. It was different and new this time—slow and easy in the mid-morning light that streamed through the blinds. We laughed and talked as we rolled together, chuckles giving way to pleasured gasps as we found completion.
“It’s always new and different with you,” Marcie said as she smothered a yawn.
I pulled the blanket up a little higher as I tugged her naked body closer. Her legs twined with mine and I rolled her underneath me to bury my lips in the softness of her shoulder.
“Is that so?” I asked, my voice muffled against her warm skin.
She sighed happily. “Yeah. I’m never performing anything for you. It all comes naturally and nothing is ever embarrassing. I love to touch you and I love the way you touch me. It’s respectful, even when it’s dirty.” She looked thoughtful for a second, then shrugged. “Maybe it’s because you have more experience. I don’t know.”
I shook my head. “Baby, that’s not it. It was never like this for me with anybody. I’m not self-conscious about sex, but our sexual chemistry is off-the-charts. It’s never been like that for me, either.”
I slid off of her and propped myself up on an elbow as she looked over at me with a smile. “Not even with Elyse, huh?”
“Nope. It was good, but this is different. Even that first night. It was always special with you.”
Her smile broadened and she sat up. “Come on, old man,” she said teasingly. “We have so much to do today.”
I couldn’t resist admiring her shapely ass as she scrambled out of the bed and walked toward the bathroom. She paused and looked at me over her shoulder.
“Coming?” she asked, her voice low and sultry.
I couldn’t move fast enough.
Chapter Nineteen
Marcie
“I genuinely do not see a difference between these two shades of gray,” Denton said as I looked between the two paint swatches on the otherwise blank white wall.
“That one has a little more blue in it, see?” I pointed to the one on the left. “And the one on the right is a little closer to a true gray.”
Little sample pots of paint sat arranged in an orderly row in front of us, ready to be applied to the wall so we could pick a color for the baby’s room. We had lots of time to start working on it, but both of us were too excited to wait.
Denton scratched his stubbled chin. I reached over and pet the dark whiskers, shot through with little strands of gray. I wondered if he had ever grown a beard. The scruff itself made him look sexier than hell.