Ryder
I drop my keys on the table as I step through the door.
Home sweet home.
The day had been long and difficult, and I couldn’t wait to get home. To Amelia. To Ember.
The scent of something cooking wafts through the air, an angelic voice following closely behind. Making my way to the kitchen, I stop dead in my tracks at the door. Silently, I watch Ember. Lost in her song, she doesn’t hear me walk up.
My gaze drops to the ground, slowly creeping up and taking in every inch of her perfect figure. Tight little shorts show off silky, sexy legs, and a plump, perfect ass fills those shorts in two round globes. Breasts bounce while she’s at the stove, working on whatever she’s cooking. Her long, kissable neck and the hair that looks perfect wrapped around my fist.
I tear my eyes away, guilt washing over me for looking at her like that. Sweet, gorgeous Ember. Christ, I wish I could quit thinking about her like that. If she was anyone else, I wouldn’t have one qualm about burying myself in her again. But she’s not anyone else. She’s Ember, and Amelia loves her. She needs her. We both do. I can’t risk fucking that up.
Tearing my eyes away, I glance over to the little girl sitting at the table coloring—my little girl. She’s my priority now.
“What’s going on in here?” I ask, announcing my presence.
Ember jumps slightly. “Ryder, you scared me.”
“Sorry about that,” I lie. The way her breasts moved when she jumped was enough incentive to get me to scare her more often. I make my way to Amelia and press my lips to the top of her head.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Hey, Amelia. What are you drawing?”
“Ember and me on the swings.”
Picking the paper up in my hands, I examine the artwork. “This is fantastic. It looks just like Ember.”
“Does it now?” she asks, with a hint of humor.
“Exact replica. See for yourself.” I hold up the paper. When Ember’s gaze reaches the picture, she slams her hand over her mouth to contain the laughter.
“Do you like it, Ember?” Amelia asks, running to her side.
“It’s… amazing.” Ember gives Amelia a quick hug before turning back to the stove.
I walk up behind Ember, who’s trying to hide her laughter. It’s soft enough for Amelia not to notice, but I hear it.
“Are those what I think they are?” I ask her.
Ember nods.
My eyes drop to her chest, the words falling from my stupid mouth before I can stop them.
“She’s not off base, but…”
Fuck.
Her cheeks are flushed, but not out of embarrassment. No, that’s the look of desire, one that matches my own.
Double fuck.
“She came in my room this morning while I was folding my laundry,” Ember says, trying to break the predicament we always seem to find ourselves in. “And uh… she grabbed one of my bras and was running around with it on.”
“Oh God.”
“It’s going to happen, Ryder.”