Lover Boy (Blue Collar Bachelors Book 1)

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  We look around again, searching for sneakers, T-shirts and shorts. Stuff that he can actually move around in and get dirty. We’re joking and laughing. Having fun. Brent races around the childrens’ department. People stare but I don’t give a fuck. I am the father of that kid who’s streaking through the aisles of Walmart. And I don’t give a fuck.

  Because my kid’s finally got new clothes that fit him. And a daddy who’s falling in love.

  Chapter 36

  Reese

  Brenton’s eyes follow my finger as it trails across the screen of my laptop. “Add a half cup of milk. Cream the mixture on low speed until smooth.”

  “Add a half cup of milk. Cream the mixture on low speed until smooth,” he echoes as he grabs the milk in the measuring cup sitting on the counter beside him.

  I’m actually trying to kill two birds with one stone—teaching Brent to bake and to read all at once.

  #BabysitterGoals

  I tap him on the tip of the nose. “You are just the cutest thing,” I say with a laugh as he pours the liquid into the batter. He grins right back at me.

  Today is Leo’s birthday and had it not been for a talkative, little snitch strapped into my backseat on the way home from preschool. His daddy specifically ordered Brent not to tell me that it was his birthday. But actually, I think it was just a ruse to get me to bake for him because we both know that keeping secrets isn’t Brent’s strong suit.

  It worked. And now, Brent and I are racing against the clock to whip up a cake before Leo gets home from work.

  “Can I try?” he asks motioning to the mixer in my hand.

  “Sure.” I help him climb onto a stool to reach the counter. One tiny hand holds the mixing bowl firmly on the counter. His other hand grips the mixer. My hands cover his to make sure he doesn’t lose control of the equipment. “What’s next?” I ask my little helper.

  His eyes travel back to the computer. “Add the…” he hesitates as he sounds out the word, “…eggs one…at a…time!” Proud eyes connect with mine as he looks up at me, awaiting my approval.

  “Great job, Brent! You read that all on your own!”

  “I did! I read it all on my own!”

  “So proud of you!” I lean down and plant a kiss in his hair.

  Right then, the back door slides open and Leo sticks his head inside. “What are you so proud of?”

  My heart skips a half dozen beats at the sight of him. Flushed cheeks, disheveled hair, stubbly chin with a smudge of sawdust. His big frame fills the doorway as he toes off his work boots.

  This is nice. It feels right. Having him come home after work and find me in the kitchen, baking with Brenton. It feels like a family. I know that we aren’t one. But it feels like it. Sometimes, I close my eyes and pretend that that’s what we are.

  “I just read the recipe all by myself,” the child says excitedly.

  “Yep, he did,” I confirm.

  “Good job, buddy!” Leo gives Brent’s shoulder little shake and smiles at him. Then, he looks at me. “So, is there any reason in particular that you two are baking today?”

  Brenton looks up at his dad. “It’s your birthday, silly.”

  Leo’s big palm covers his mouth and he pretends to be shocked. “It is my birthday. I completely forgot!”

  “Yeah, right,” I mutter under my breath and Leo just laughs.

  “Daddy, you better help if you want to get any cake when it’s done,” Brenton advises sagely.

  Leo’s expression goes solemn. “You know what? You’re right.”

  He comes up behind me and his hard body presses against my back. He extends his arms and envelopes both me and Brent in his embrace. He kisses his lips to the ridge of my cheekbone.

  I love him…

  The sudden thought causes me to jolt and I lose my grip on the mixing bowl. It spins on the counter like a top before crashing to the floor. The blades of the mixer continue to spin, pelting cake batter all over. There’s cake batter on every surface of the kitchen.

  The three of us freeze and look at each other. And we burst out laughing.

  I yank the cord out of the wall and the mixing paddle eventually stops spinning but the mess has already been made. Brenton hops up onto the counter. He’s scooping batter from the countertop and licking it off of his fingers.

  I want to tell him to stop but Leo has me pinned to the counter and he’s licking batter off of my face. I’m screaming, trying to squirm out of his arms because it tickles. It’s hopeless. I’m a captive.

  Brenton finds the whole thing pretty damn amusing. He slaps a spatula of cake batter to my cheek so his daddy has even more to lick off. He’s giggling so hard.

  “I’m gonna get you back, Brenton!” My threats fall on deaf ears. He just continues enjoying his batter. I spin around, doing my best to fight but it’s useless. Eventually, I just give up.

  The laughter carries on, filling the house, filling my heart. Yeah, this is definitely what a family feels like.

  After a long while, Leo’s laughter fades. His expression becomes grave, concerned, maybe even a little bit afraid.

  Searching his face, I cup his cheek. “What is it?”

  “You make me happy.” His anxiety seems to deepen when he admits it.

  “Is that a bad thing?” I caress his shoulders, trying to get him to relax.

  I see the guilt in his eyes. “I just never thought I’d be happy again.”

  Brenton pipes in. “It’s good to be happy, daddy.” The little boy looks at me. “I’m happy, too. We’re all happy together.”

  A smile stretches Leo’s mouth despite his hesitation. I put a kiss on Brenton’s forehead. Then, standing on my toes, I lean closer to Leo and seal my lips over his.

  Chapter 37

  Leo

  I hold the ceramic plate under the spray of water, letting the soapy suds slide off. Our eyes connect when I hand it over to her. Her dark irises sparkle and her lips rise easily into a smile.

  She accepts the plate from my hands and wipes a dry towel across the surface. She can't stop grinning as she settles the dish into the cabinet.

  I'm not sure that doing the dishes together is on the list of activities that fuck friends engage in but I'll tell ya—watching Theresa Hartley’s shapely thighs as she stands on her tiptoes to put the plate in the cabinet? That's an aphrodisiac, my friends.

  And if I were honest—which apparently, I'm not—I'd admit that this thing is starting to feel less like a convenient arrangement between sexually excitable members of the adult population and more like…a family.

  It's presumptuous as fuck for me to even think this because Reese and I haven't had a conversation about it. Still, I see it playing out in every way. We have dinner at the kitchen table every evening. We cozy up on the couch and watch TV. We sleep under the same roof most nights. Hell—we even go to Walmart together and nothing says family like going to Walmart together.

  I hand her the casserole dish that I just finished scrubbing and then clean out the sink. I watch as she steps over to the cabinet and rises onto her toes but before she can put the dish in its place, I slide my arms around her waist and my erection grinds against her back. An obscene little noise escapes her mouth.

  Taking the dish from her hand, I set it in its designated spot and now my hand is on her waist, inching beneath the cotton blend of her blouse. Her fingers grip the edge of the countertop. "Leo..." Her voice vibrates through me as my lips sweep across that sensitive spot behind her ear.

  I lift her hair off of her neck and move it over her shoulder so I can have unrestricted access. She shivers as I kiss her neck and fondle her breasts.

  "Bend over," I growl as I press against the small of her back.

  She glances over her shoulder with hesitant eyes. "Are you sure Brenton’s asleep?"

  "He's asleep," I assure her, my confidence is fueled by nothing but blinding horniness.

  She lowers herself over the cold laminate counter and moans deep in her chest. My whole b
ody tingles at the sound. I lift her skirt, bunching it at her waist and tear her panties to the side. When I sweep my fingers through her folds, she mutters a string of curse words under her breath.

  Smiling, I drop to my knees, my palms smoothing down her thighs. She shivers. I’m so fucking hard right now, tripping on the power I have over her body. Still I know I’m not in control because she has the power over my heart. The way I feel with her goes far beyond sexual. I feel safe. I know I can trust her. If I gave her my heart, I know she’d protect it.

  My thoughts torture me as I eat her pussy. I don’t want to face the fact that I’m the one with my walls up, I’m the one who’s holding back.

  I lick her harder, roughly dragging my tongue through her folds. She squirms and whines as she jerks her ass in my face. I show no mercy for her agony. I just escalate my intimate attack on her sensitive flesh.

  She stifles her scream in a kitchen towel when she comes. Then, I lean her over the counter and brush the head of my naked cock through her folds.

  I want her like this. Wet and raw. I don't want a sheet of latex separating us. I want her completely. I love her. I can finally admit it to myself. I love Reese.

  I'm still scared and I still don't deserve her but I love her.

  She reaches back and takes hold of my cock. Her pussy lips spread open as she impales herself with the tip. My breathing hitches when her slick warmth swallows me up. I drop my head to her shoulder and groan. She works her hips, slowly taking me in and out. Teasing my with that hot, tight cunt. It's not long before I'm losing control, pounding her until my brain feels like it’s stuffed with cotton and my bones turn to mush. Until we both crack under the crushing power of our orgasm and my come fires into her sweet cunt.

  She’s bent over, chest heaving, and I’m right behind her, pressed against her as she struggles to catch her breath. Our hands lie on the edge of the counter, fingers intertwined.

  I want to tell her that I love her.

  It could be so easy. I could just lean forward, say the words into her hair so quietly she’d doubt she even heard them. I just want to get it off my chest.

  It’s crazy. I know. I'm a reckless fool but my heart is all in this. I want her. This thing between us, I want it to be real. I want it out in the open. I feel it so strongly in my heart that it threatens to split my chest in half.

  Twisting her body beneath me, she manages to turn around. I feel dizzy from the scorching intensity in her eyes. There’s something churning in her mind. I can almost see it. She reaches up and brings the pads of her fingers to my face. When she sucks her lower lip into her mouth, I know it’s so she won’t blurt it out.

  I press my finger to the space right above her chin to free her lip from the prison of her teeth. The flesh pops free and I grin. "What is it you want to say, Reese?"

  Her eyes go fluttery at the fact that I know her so well. I lower my face to hers and search the depths of her eyes. Shit—I know exactly what she wants to say. She’s feeling the same things I do. My heart roars, anxious to hear her say it.

  Running her hands down the planes of my chest, she pulls in a breath. "Leo, I love—"

  A loud, heavy crash is followed by a stomach-churning tumble. It causes us both to jump. Reese's eyes bulge as panic floods my head and we stare at each other for the tense moment of silence that ensues.

  And then, Brenton's agonizing wail gushes through the house.

  Chapter 38

  Leo

  I’m sitting right next to Brenton’s bed, holding his free hand. He watches in fascination as the nurse sets the cast on his broken arm. I can’t believe he’s smiling right now. I may be sitting here calmly, but on the inside I’m freaking the hell out.

  He got hurt on my watch. I was busy in the kitchen, fooling around with his babysitter, and he got hurt.

  That’s plain negligence. I should have been paying attention to him but I allowed myself to get distracted. I let my son down and he ended up in the hospital because of it.

  How am I any better than Mara?

  This poor kid. His mother abandoned him and now his dad’s got his head so far up the neighbor’s pussy that he can’t take care of him.

  The nurse’s attention falls on me. “Hey—don’t beat yourself up, Mr. Montgomery,” she tells me, “Kids get hurt all the time. This isn’t your fault.”

  Except, it is.

  I should have made sure that he was tucked in bed but I didn’t. He was in his room, in the dark, looking for a bedtime story to read to himself. He couldn’t reach the switch, so he tried to stand on his backpack and he went crashing to the floor and broke his arm. If it isn’t my fault then who’s is it?

  I peek past the blinds, into the hallway. Reese sits there on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs. She’s been waiting with us the whole time. She should go home. She can’t stay. Because right now, my guilt won’t cut me some slack. And every time I look at her, my love for her floods my mind and it reminds me of how badly I let down my son.

  Rising from my chair, I pad out the door. She’s on her feet the moment she sees me. “Is he okay? Does he need a CAT scan? Are they gonna keep him overnight?”

  I don’t have answers to her questions. All I have is sadness. When I came to this town, I promised myself that I would focus on building a life for my kid. I got side-tracked and fell in love with this beautiful woman. But it doesn’t matter how much I want her. She’s a distraction nonetheless and I can’t allow myself to be distracted anymore.

  “You should go home,” I tell her.

  Shaking her head frantically, she sits back in her chair. “No, I can wait. I don’t mind.”

  “Reese. Go home.” I hate the harsh grate of my tone but I need her to understand that the game we’ve been playing is over. I can’t play anymore.

  She gives me a long look and understanding washes over her. “Leo, what are you doing?” she whispers, her voice wavering. “Why are you doing this?” She stands in front of me, looking up into my face with a quivering lip. “Why are you doing this?”

  I don’t have a choice. Brent needs my undivided attention at this stage in his life.

  I hear footsteps and when I look over my shoulder, I see the nurse stepping out of the room. “I’ve got to get back in there.” I tell Reese.

  “Leo…” I hear the plea in her voice.

  I keep a hard expression despite the waver in my words. “Goodbye, Reese.” I ball my hands into fists to keep from touching her and I turn back into the room.

  Chapter 39

  Reese

  I pound my fist into Leo’s front door and I’m seeing red. I’m so pissed off. Pissed off and frustrated. And I’m not gonna let him just get away with this.

  The door swings open and I stumble back, his virile masculine beauty knocking the wind out of me. For a second, I forget to be mad at him. All I feel is love, hot and pulsing in the air between us, begging to be embraced and explored. Then, it morphs back into rage. Red-hot rage.

  While all this plays out in my head, he stares down at me with a blank face, like I’m a stranger, some girl scout who showed up at this door to sell chocolate-covered almonds or something. Fuck this guy!

  “I went to pick up Brenton from school today,” I say angrily, “They told me that someone else had already taken him.” Ending our romantic situation is one thing. Cutting me out of Brenton’s life is another thing completely. It’s cruel.

  Leo scrubs his hand down the side of his face. “Yeah, that old lady down the street—Mrs. Pinnchecko—she’ll be watching him from now on.” He says it so matter-of-factly, like he doesn’t realize he’s crushing my heart in his hand.

  I fold my arms tightly over my chest like a suit of armor. “And why’s that?”

  His voice is flat and lifeless. “I think that’s what’s best for everyone.”

  He stands there with his white shirt unbuttoned and his jeans low on his hips and his feet bare. His hair is all messed up and he smells like liquor. There’s a cigare
tte tucked behind his ear.

  I love him but I want to punch him in the throat. I want to yell at him. Instead, my shaky voice comes out as a whisper. “Why are you doing this?”

  “It’s just—it’s easier this way…”

  Is he even hearing himself right now? “Easier for who?” I question. “Easier for Brenton? Because he and I were getting along just fine. And as for you, you’re happier when I’m around. We both know that.”

  He doesn’t answer. He just stares off into the distance, peering emotionlessly over my shoulder.