by Katie Ashley
“Thanks.”
“How many acres?”
“Ten.”
“Really? But we were only going to have—” I snapped my mouth shut.
“Five acres.”
“I acquired five more acres from my parents before I built.” He gave me a knowing look. “I decided to build on the other end of those five acres and not the ones where we were going to live.”
An ache burned through my chest at what could’ve been. Robert and Pauline had gifted Declan and me the five acres as a wedding present. We’d decided to wait to build until Declan finished his undergrad degree. That way we could afford it more with me in vet school. That discomfort was back. Instead he built his home with his actual wife.
“That’s understandable,” I replied staring down at the grass. I’m sure he hadn’t wanted to start a new life on the property where we were supposed to live. I certainly wouldn’t have wanted to. I couldn’t even start a life anywhere near him, for goodness sake.
Cam interrupted us by running up to me. “I’m going to get you, Peyton.”
I held my hands up. “I surrender. Don’t shoot.”
The next thing I knew a nerf bullet was momentarily stuck to my boob with a suction cup before it fell to the ground. “I got you!” Cam shouted before running away to shoot something else.
When Declan started snickering, I rolled my eyes. “You would find this funny.”
“He has a good aim. I mean, he got your nipple, didn’t he?”
“Like he was aiming for that,” I countered.
“You never know. He could be a closeted boob man.”
“Like his father.”
With a wink, Declan replied, “Could be.”
“Men,” I muttered.
We got back to the house and sat outside on the back porch that overlooked a small pond. When the pizza arrived, Declan brought it back outside with him. While it might not have been gourmet food or an expensive location, I loved each and every minute of it. Conversation flowed easily between myself and Declan, not to mention the sweet and funny things Cam said.
After we cleaned up from dinner, Declan asked, “Want to watch a movie?”
“Sure. What would you like to watch?” I replied.
“Toy Story!” Cam interjected.
While Declan rolled his eyes, I laughed. “Do you like Toy Story?”
Declan groaned. “More like he’s obsessed with it. I bet we watch one of the three movies at least once a day.”
“Let’s watch the second one, Daddy, with Jessie.”
“Toy Story 2 it is,” Declan said resignedly.
“Can we have some popcorn?” Cam asked.
“Sure. Why don’t you two go get settled in while I make it?”
“Okay,” Cam replied. He took my hand and led me back into the living room. While I sat down on the couch, he started playing with some of his toys. Declan appeared a few minutes later with the popcorn. After turning on the TV, he sat down next to me before placing the bowl between us. “Ready, Cam?”
“Yep.” After abandoning his toys, Cam hopped up on the couch. Instead of sitting beside me or Declan, he wiggled between the two of us.
I grinned at Declan over Cam’s head. “Are you comfy?” I asked Cam.
“Uh-huh,” he replied, not taking his eyes off the screen.
As we sat there watching Toy Story, I couldn’t help feeling like I was experiencing a real family life. Although I shouldn’t have, I imagined for a moment what it would be like if this was my normal Friday night nestled between the two men in my life as a wife and mother. I liked the idea more than I probably should have. While Declan and I were dating again, there were no guarantees it would last. The thought of that made me incredibly sad.
Halfway through the movie, Cam’s body slumped over against mine. When I glanced down at him, I saw he was fast asleep. “Aw, little guy’s out,” I announced.
“I’m surprised he made it this long. He’s usually wiped out by seven thirty on the days he has pre-k.” He grinned at me. “Let me get him to bed.”
“Sure.”
Declan slid his hands under Cam’s body and then brought him into his arms. As he started over to the stairs, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from them. After our years together, it was so foreign seeing Declan in the role of a father. I couldn’t lie that it was incredibly sexy. At the same time, it was very endearing.
“Do you want to help me?” Declan asked.
“Do you want me to?”
He chuckled. “There you go with that habit of answering a question with a question.”
I rolled my eyes. “I just wanted to make sure you were sure.”
“I am.”
Right. But was I sure I wanted to help put Cam to bed? Talk about your next level intimacy. Declan was giving me even more access to his son’s world. Like everything with us getting back together, it was moving at warp speed.
In the end, I merely nodded. I then crossed the living room to the two of them. Declan motioned for me to go ahead of him up the stairs.
When we got inside Cameron’s bedroom, Declan asked, “Will you grab his pajamas out of the top drawer?”
Turning around, I eyed the armoire and the chest of drawers. “Um, which top drawer?”
“Chest of drawers.”
“Got it.”
When I opened the drawer, I couldn’t help smiling at all the neatly folded sets of pajamas. I had to wonder if they were Declan’s doing, or since Bailey had been gone so long, it was Pauline’s. Of course, it was amusing thinking of Declan doing laundry—he’d always claimed that was woman’s work when we were dating, which I’d told him was utter bullshit.
After grabbing the red pair of Thomas the Tank Engine pajamas, I joined Declan by the bed. With Cam being deadweight, Declan worked to wriggle him out of his shirt and pants. Since he was occupied with Cam’s top half, I reached for the button on his pants and worked those off. While Declan got his pajama top on, I slid on his pajama pants.
“Great teamwork,” Declan whispered with a smile.
The comment tugged at my heart. What we had just done was the teamwork that parents usually did. As I watched Declan smooth down Cam’s hair and kiss his forehead, an ache burned through my chest. One I hadn’t experienced in a long, long time.
The ache for motherhood.
Maybe it was because I was thirty that my clock had started ticking louder and louder. Maybe it was because with Papa’s death, my own mortality was more evident, which in turn added to the need to procreate. It certainly didn’t help my ovaries to be in the presence of a gorgeous father and an adorable son. While the idea of a having a baby had always been on my mind, I’d never given much thought to being a step mom. When I thought about Cam’s case, it was more like being his mom.
Gazing down at his sleeping face, I wondered if I could be enough. Would Cam want that? Me stepping into his life? What if he was happy it was just him and his dad?
Getting a little ahead of yourself there, aren’t you? You and Declan have barely started dating again and here you are inserting yourself not only into the role of wife, but as mother.
“Peyton?” Declan questioned.
I snapped my gaze from Cam over to him. “What?” I whispered.
“I said let’s go downstairs.”
“Oh, okay. Sure.”
After Declan eased Cam’s door closed, we headed down the hallway and back downstairs. “Want something else to eat or drink?”
“No. I’m good, thanks,” I replied as I sat back down on the couch.
With a beaming expression, Declan said, “You made a big impression tonight on Cam.”
“I did?”
He nodded. “He normally takes a long time to warm up to people outside our family.”
“He just likes me because I’ve been taking such good care of Moose,” I replied with a grin.
“Oh, it’s more than that, trust me.”
“He’s a great kid, D. You’ve done an amazing job
.”
“Thanks. But it wasn’t all me. Bailey could be a very good mom when she wanted to be.”
“When she wanted?” I repeated softly. Even though I wasn’t a mom, I knew it wasn’t about turning your maternal instinct on and off when it served your purpose. From my own mother, I’d seen what complete and total sacrifice looked like. As we were growing up, it was rarely if ever what she wanted and more about what Quinton, Becca, and I wanted.
Declan ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, that’s pretty fucked up, isn’t it? Jesus, I don’t know how I was so blind for so long.”
“Because you loved her.”
He exhaled a ragged sigh. “I’m not so sure I actually loved her for her.”
“Because you wanted to save her?”
“That was a huge factor. There was also the idea I was in love with the idea of her.” He grimaced. “She put on a good front when we were dating and first married. Then when she had Cameron, I started loving her because she gave me such a perfect little human.” Shaking his head, he said, “And then it went all to shit.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Neither is it yours.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one.”
As I drew my bottom lip between my teeth, I debated about what to do. I wanted more than anything to take his mind off his troubles. Since he couldn’t drink, that only left me with one other vice to work with, even though it was allegedly off limits. But times like these called for drastic measures.
When I brought my hand to cup his crotch, he jumped. “Whoa, what the hell are you doing?”
As his dick came alive to my touch, I replied, “Just getting reacquainted with an old friend.”
Warily, he said, “We talked about getting physical too soon.”
“You need a little stress relief. You don’t drink, and the gym is closed.”
“Ah, is that what you call this?”
“Aren’t you feeling relieved?”
“Slightly.”
“Hmm, let me try something else.” I unbuttoned his pants before sliding the zipper down. My fingers delved inside his briefs before encircling his cock. The way it felt against my palm was a truly Déjà vu moment. “Better?”
His head collapsed back against the couch. “Getting there.”
“Do you remember the first time I gave you a hand job?”
Declan groaned as my fingers began to pump around his cock. He swallowed hard. “After the homecoming bonfire our junior year,” he grunted.
With a smile, I replied, “You do remember.”
“I remember every time we fucked.”
I lifted my brows in surprise. “You do? I don’t remember every time.”
As I worked his cock faster, a lazy grin slunk across his lips. “Maybe I don’t remember every time, but I remember the creative ones.”
“Creative?”
“Like that time we hid out in the laundry room, and I fucked you on the washing machine.”
The memory of that, coupled with Declan bringing his hand to knead my breast, caused wetness to pool between my legs. “It’s been twelve years, and I can still remember what the vibrations felt like on my bare ass,” I replied.
“They made your pussy vibrate, which was amazing around my cock.”
I grinned. “Maybe we can do laundry together sometime?”
“I’d fucking love that.” He squeezed my nipple through the fabric of my dress, causing me to gasp. He then made quick work unbuttoning the top of my dress. Jerking the cups of my bra down, his fingers tweaked my already hardening nipples. All the while I kept pumping my hand up and down his cock.
“I want you to come with me,” his deep voice rumbled.
“Yes, please.”
Declan snaked his hand under my dress. His fingers skimmed along the skin of my thighs. As he grew closer to my pussy, I spread my legs, widening myself for him. At the feel of his knuckles brushing against my sensitive flesh, I moaned.
As the precum grew on the head of his cock, he slipped two fingers into my wet core. “Oh God,” I murmured as his fingers began to pump inside me. He dipped his head to bring his mouth over my breast.
“Daddy?”
“Oh God!” I cried. This time my exclamation was from horror and not pleasure. As I scrambled away from Declan, I jerked the hem of my dress back down from where it had been circling my equator before fumbling with the cups on my bra.
“What is it Cam?” Declan choked out as he stuffed his dick back in his pants.
Thankfully, Cam had remained on the bottom stair and hadn’t come close enough to see anything traumatizing. In a wavering voice, Cam replied, “I’ve been calling you over and over and over but you didn’t come.”
Well, hello, guilt trip. I would now be known as ‘the mean woman who took Daddy’s attention away by distracting him with sexual favors’. Maybe I was the one who Pauline should be calling a bitch rather than Bailey.
“Sorry, buddy, I didn’t hear you.” Declan hopped off the couch and hustled over to the stairs.
“Was it another nightmare?”
Sniffling, Cam replied, “She was hurting me and saying I could never see you again.”
I could only imagine who she was in Cam’s nightmare. It made me want to track down Bailey and beat the hell out of her for inflicting so much pain on Cam. He wasn’t even my child, yet I ached for him and what he was going through. How could she possibly turn her back on her own flesh and blood just for a dick…or dicks?
Declan gathered Cam into his arms before turning around to face me. “I’m sorry, Peyton, but I—”
I held a hand up as I rose off the couch. “You don’t need to apologize. You go take care of Cam, and I’ll let myself out.”
“You could stay,” he suggested, his voice cracking a bit.
I didn’t know if we were ready for that yet. Sure, we were officially back together not to mention we were just heavy petting like a bunch of horny teenagers in his living room. In the vast scheme of things, it was all pretty innocent. If I stayed, it meant a whole new level of commitment, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for it.
But when I stared into his agonized eyes, my heart ached with grief, and I wanted to do everything within my power to ease his pain. “Yeah, sure, I can stay.”
Both relief and gratitude flashed in his expression. “Good.” Turning his attention back to Cam, Declan said, “Come on, buddy. Let’s get you back to bed.”
When he started upstairs, I fell in step behind him. At Cameron’s bedroom door, he turned around. Jerking his chin down the hall, he said, “Go on in and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I nodded. After he dipped into Cameron’s bedroom, I glanced down the hallway with slight trepidation. For a moment, it felt like that scene in The Shining where the hallway stretched on infinitely. It was just Declan’s bedroom. No biggie. No potential for anything to go wrong.
When I stepped inside, I froze at the sight of the huge four-poster-bed. Declan and Bailey’s marriage bed more precisely. I’m not sure why I found it so repugnant. It wasn’t like I hadn’t slept on the same mattress as my boyfriends’ other girlfriends had. Maybe it was because none of them had been married.
At least there weren’t any pictures of her in the room. Of course, she was all around in the interior design of the room—the specially made curtains that coordinated with the bed spread. The high back chairs and ottoman in the corner. None of those things appeared to be Declan’s doing. It wasn’t fair. Why did she get all this? Him? Cam? She was so . . . undeserving. I didn’t want to step into their space.
Standing in the middle of the room, I tried not to imagine their life together in this room. It wasn’t so much the sex I didn’t want to think about, although that was horrific enough. It was more the other aspects of intimacy.
Declan reappeared still wearing a battle worn expression. An agonized sigh rumbled through his chest as he dropped dow
n on the bed beside me. After rubbing his hands over his face, he shook his head. “Bailey’s effect on Cam is killing me.”
I reached over and took my hand in his. After giving a reassuring squeeze, I said, “As Papa always said, ‘what doesn’t kill us only makes us stronger.’”
A mirthless laugh escaped Declan’s lips. “Then I must be at Hulk-level by now.” With his jaw clenching, tears shimmered in his eyes. “When it comes to making it easier for him, I don’t feel strong. I feel so fucking weak.”
“There’s not a weak bone in your body, Declan St. James. You are doing the best you can, and that’s all that matters. One day down the road, Cam will reflect on how you got him through this difficult time.”
He scrubbed the moisture from his eyes with his fist. “I sure as hell hope so. I don’t want this to be the part he talks about later in a prison-organized therapy session.”
I shook my head. “That’s not even a possibility.”
“I hope not.” Cutting his eyes over to me, Declan shook his head. “This all has to be so terribly romantic—my traumatized son and me blubbering. I’m surprised you’re not running for the hills.”
I understood what he was saying, and a lesser woman might’ve bailed. But we’d been through too much together over the years for anything like that. “This is life, D. It isn’t always pretty. God knows I’ve had my own unattractive moments over the years.” Of course, those “unattractive moments” usually involved me being unable to commit out of my fear of being left again. I’d never waited for the men to bail—I had to be the first to leave.
“It’s not what I wanted right at the start of us rebuilding our relationship.”
“You forget I already know you. There isn’t anything you have to pretend to impress me.” I reached out to run my hand over his cheek. “I know you, and I like what I see.”
It appeared he didn’t have words because instead of agreeing or arguing with me, he brought his mouth against mine. I deepened the kiss by sliding my tongue against his. When I started to slide my hand down his chest, he stopped me. “No. I don’t want to finish what we started.”
“Because you don’t want us being physical yet?”
Pain flickered in his eyes. “Bailey tried to solve all of our problems with sex.”
