CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
Lo
With the veggies prepared and Gabe and Axl manning the grill in the snow outside, I step away to FaceTime Art. He answers on the second ring. “Hey, there’s my beautiful, sexy woman.”
I smile at the words and the little flip my heart gives at his handsome face. “Ha! I’m not so sure about sexy or the beautiful part. I’m covered in chocolate and barbeque sauce. Axl is a little exuberant when it comes to helping with mealtimes.”
“Really? Well, it’s a shame I am not there. You would not be covered for long.”
I laugh. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or grossed out.”
“Would you prefer me to kiss that sweet little peach of yours, drive my tongue between your lips and tease your clit?”
My breath catches and I swallow hard. “Well, when you put it like that. Where are you right now?”
“In bed, missing you.”
“Shouldn’t you be up? The restaurant is due to open soon, isn’t it?”
“It is, and I am up.” He waggles his brows.
I cover my mouth and laugh. “Pics or it didn’t happen.”
“Who needs pics when I can just show you?” Art moves his hand, the camera panning down his chest and abdomen, across smooth brown skin and washboard abs to the nest of dark pubic hair and finally his erect dick.
I swallow hard. “I suddenly need a drink.”
His sexy chuckle resonates through the speaker. “And I need you. Hurry back to me, mi corazón. I can’t wait to bury myself inside you again. I’m going to make you beg over and over again until the only words you’ll remember are Por favor.”
“Please.” I don’t know if I’m translating, or actually begging already.
“Mommy, who are you talking to?” I spin around to find Axl and Gabe standing behind me. Gabe’s eyes are narrowed as he takes in my flushed face and guilty expression.
“Art, I have to go.”
“Adiós hermosa niña.”
“You were sexting your boyfriend while Axl and I grilled?”
“No. It wasn’t like that—”
“What’s sexting?”
“Nothing. It’s a bad word that Daddy shouldn’t say.”
“Guess I’m not the only one whispering bad words in your ear, am I?” Gabe mumbles and walks toward the dining table, throwing the tray down on the cloth. I slide the phone in the pocket of my hoodie and stare out the window at the darkening sky. He’s right. After our flirting in the car earlier, I can see how callous it was to have this kind of conversation with Art when he was in hearing distance. I just don’t know how I’m supposed to find a happy medium here.
After we put Axl to bed, Gabe and I head downstairs. I sit on the couch and watch the snow falling outside while Gabe stands in the kitchen, pressing his palms into the counter. His tattooed forearms play peekaboo with the cream sweater I brought him last Christmas. I hadn’t even noticed he was wearing it until now.
The fire crackles and the wind howls against the windows outside, cold and promising snow, and a part of me wants to just stay here forever.What if we never went back to LA? What if we just stayed here as a family without all of the other bullshit in the way?
“Oh shit,” Gabe says as he folds his arms across his broad chest and leans against the counter. “That’s a serious face. You want a wine?”
I shake my head. “I’m okay.”
“Lo, you can drink around me. I’m not gonna lapse again.”
He pulls a glass from the cupboard and sets it on the counter. Then he grabs the bottle of red from the pantry and opens it, pouring a generous serve. He fixes a soda water with lime and grabs our drinks and walks across the cabin toward me. He hands me my wine and gently clinks his glass against mine. “What are we celebrating?”