by Tory Baker
Each parent comes to pick up their child, something I love about this school. They’re not big on parent pick-up lanes in vehicles. It might be a public school, but it definitely has that private small-town feel.
“Miss Jennings, can you come play with me?” Sienna the last one here, which kind of shocks me because her parents seemed super caring when I had that incident at the restaurant. Even this morning, Sienna’s mom seemed like she was right there watching her every movement.
“Sure.” I think nothing of it. Today, when I got dressed, I made sure my clothes were easy to move around in, so I’m wearing an oversized plum-colored sweater that covers all the goods, paired with a pair of black leggings. It needed some pizazz, because if not, Aspen would come after me. Though, I do have to say the faux snakeskin booties really tie the outfit together. Bonus for it being comfortable.
Sienna is in the reading nook area. This was my task when the girls came in to help me, and it’s probably my favorite place of all. There’s a shelf filled to the brim with books, my mom’s doing. I had her hunt and peck for age and school appropriate books the minute I was assigned to my first-grade class. Then I made sure there were massive floor pillows, a cushy area rug, and a children’s play tent. It’s so neat and even has all of the continents imprinted on it. I’ve always been this nerdy type person mixed with a bit of sunshine and hurricane, at least that’s what my daddy always says.
“What book do you have there?” I ask her once we settle into the space. I guess she likes to read instead of play. I’m perfectly okay with that. There are only so many things you can build before you want to give up.
“Dr. Seuss. I read them a lot when I’m at home.” I’ve noticed a lot about the children in my classroom, mostly that they talk so well for their age.
“Do you want to read it for me, or would you like me to read it to you?”
“I’ll read it. I don’t think we have this one at home,” she ponders, her pointer finger on her chin as she thinks. I smile, nodding my head.
Sienna reads the book. I’m watching her the entire time, thinking about how she is the perfect blend of Melody and who I’m assuming is her father. Her dark brown hair is in a plaited braid, and she has long eyelashes that most women would do anything for to have naturally. Believe me, I would. Instead, I deal with a blow dryer, an eyelash curler, primer, and mascara. It’s so not fair. She has an olive tone to her skin yet still has rose-colored cheeks while she gets flustered with a word every now and then. I allow her the time to sound it out, not rushing her or taking over.
“There you go!” I clap my hands, giving her praise. The smile she gives me says it all. Sienna gets back to reading, both of us lost in what she’s doing until she says, “The End,” and we hear clapping coming from the doorway.
Sienna places her book on the shelf before darting off towards the man I not only didn’t think I’d see again, but who is also not for me. Not that I can blame Melody. He’s a tall drink of water. I refuse to catalogue further everything he is.
“Uncle Ry-Ry!” Sienna greets him, which has me sucking in a gulp of air. No freaking way, I think to myself. There’s no way that he’s Sienna’s uncle. I didn’t allow myself to think about him for the past month—not the way he seemed to hold me even after I had stopped choking, not the way he squeezed my hip, multiple times, and definitely not about how adamant he was about me being taken care of.
“How’s my favorite niece?” he questions. That’s when I take him in. He’s tall, taller than my five-foot-six-inch frame, even with the highest heels I had on that night.
“Uncle Ryder, I’m your only niece, silly.” He picks her up, holding Sienna under her booty, making sure nothing is showing under the floral dress she’s wearing today. My eyes drink up everything that is Ryder and just how fine he is, and I mean that with a capital F, I, N, E. I’m feeling the need to FaceTime with all the girls tonight. If not all of them, then definitely Aspen. The men in Texas sure are made differently than back home. Ryder’s hair is on the short side, buzzed and cropped close to the top. His angular jaw and chiseled high cheekbones are the whole package. And clearly, Sienna carries Melody and Ryder’s genes when it comes to those deep brown eyes of theirs. The fitted navy-blue shirt he is wearing outlines his muscular chest and arms, tapered waist, slim-fitting jeans, and I’m definitely thinking about the bulge I felt against me not so long ago. Well-worn boots pull his outfit together.
“Give me a few minutes with your teacher, princess,” Ryder tells her.
“Sure, I can read another book, but then you owe me a snack, plus grocery shopping,” Sienna barters.
“Like I could ever deny you those requests.” They meet each other’s foreheads, a silent answer for them both. He places Sienna on her feet, then she’s scurrying past me to the book nook. Ryder looks at me, something playing on his face, but I’m not sure what. What I know as well as I know myself is that this man is going to be my downfall. The way he looks, how he carries himself, how he interacts with his niece. Yep, I’m done for, I think the entire time as he saunters towards me, all while I’m trying to regain my composure.
Four
Ryder
Fuck, she’s even more beautiful than the last time I saw her. She might be covered up literally from neck to ankle, but that doesn’t stop my eyes from roaming over every square inch of her body. Her hazel eyes gave off every emotion, lust, need, and then the one I hated the most—defeat. I’m not exactly sure why she had that written on her face when I held Sienna in my arms, but if that’s a deal breaker for her, it would really fucking suck.
“I guess we should formally meet.” My body is already moving towards hers.
“We should. I’m Berkley Jennings.” Her face is soft now, showing me the slight dusting of freckles that have no rhyme or reason, dotting her face here and there.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Ryder Price, Sienna’s uncle.” She purses her lips. I’m thinking she had something else playing through her mind.
“Oh, of course you are. I mean, she ran right into your arms and called you Uncle Ry. I don’t know why I didn’t put two and two together sooner. She’s a very bright young girl.” I can see she’s nervous. My eyes move to Si. She’s firmly entrenched in her book, giving me the opportunity to stake my claim on Berkley.
“Not sure why you looked so forlorn when I walked in, but if it’s because of Si, I need to know now. She may not be my child, but I’m the only father figure she has, and our bond is super-glue tight.” I get that off my chest while my hand travels to her hip on its own volition, lifting up her sweater, wanting to feel her skin against my own.
Berkley’s breath hitches when our skin meets, scorching both of us in the best way possible. “That’s not it. I thought, well, I thought Melody was your girlfriend or wife, and yeah, I was not getting involved in any of your business or Melody’s that way. I’m not one for breaking girl code, you know?” Her body moves closer to mine, my hand squeezing her hip before my fingers slowly skate towards her lower back.
“I get it, completely. I’m trying not to gauge my eyes out at the thought of you thinking about me being anything other than a brother to Melody. Dear God, that’s just awful.” I step further into her body, wanting to feel us lined up again, thankful more than ever that Sienna has her nose stuck in a book, her usual if she’s not grocery shopping with me or cooking something up in the kitchen.
Berkley slaps my chest but doesn’t back away. I’m ninety percent sure she feels what’s happening between us. If not, I’ll make damn sure she does, and soon.
“You know what I mean though, and you have to admit Sienna looks a lot like you. She even has your eyelashes, which is not fair.” She rolls her eyes, throwing attitude.
“She does. Our gene pool runs strong, which is a good thing. By the way, I need to make you and the front office aware that if someone besides Melody or myself tries to pick her up, we need to know right away.” My tone is probably harsher than it should be, but the thoug
ht of that dick nugget trying to take Sienna will make me see nothing but fucking red.
“Oh crap, yeah, not a problem. I have Melody’s number on file, but I don’t think I have yours. The front office does, I’m sure, with you being on the pick-up list and all.”
“We’ll have to rectify that. Plus, I may want your number too. This Thursday, if you’re not busy, I’m taking you out,” I tell her.
“Oh, are you?” She’s got a gleam in her eye. Something makes me think Berkley will make me work for it.
“Yeah, I sure as hell am.” My eyes dart back to Sienna. She’s closing a book, which tells me our time alone is coming to an end.
“You better not keep me out too late. I’ll turn into a pumpkin.” She winks. Berkley pulls away. I mourn the loss of feeling her skin against mine, but I know it’s because Sienna is making her way towards us.
“Uncle Ry-Ry, I’m ready for a snack. No offense, Miss Jennings, but school lunch isn’t as good as what I usually pack.”
“No offense taken. I don’t care for it too much myself. Next time, if we realize it earlier on, we’ll call your mom or uncle. Deal?” Berkley stoops down so she’s on eye level with Sienna.
“Deal.” She shakes Berkley’s hand, then goes to grab her bag.
“Did Melody forget to pack her lunch?” I ask because that’s usually not the case. Sienna is that weird child who will eat anything, and if Melody gets busy with work, I’ll set aside her lunch the night before, and all she has to do is put it in Sienna’s bag.
“Nope, she said it was left in the car. I paid for her lunch, and we were on our merry way, but I’m sure it didn’t hold her over, what with her not eating all of her food like she surely normally does.”
“You’d be right about that. Do you have your phone handy?” I ask her, knowing damn sure I’ll be wanting to check in on her before our date in three more days.
“Yes, let me go grab it.” Berkley turns to head to her desk, where I’m assuming her phone must be, and I watch her ass the entire fucking way.
“Uncle Ry-Ry, I’m watching you,” Sienna whispers.
“I bet you are.” I wink at her. We both watch as Berkley comes back. We exchange phone numbers, with me making sure I call myself from her phone, not willing to leave this up to chance.
“I’ll be seeing you, Berkley,” I promise. Not being able to touch her one last time is damn near impossible. I won’t do that in front of Sienna though.
“Okay.” She walks us to her classroom door, letting us out, then it’s a date with my niece. But I damn sure won’t be forgetting the honey-blond-haired beauty with hazel eyes and lush fucking lips anytime soon.
Five
Berkley
I make it home, slamming the apartment door behind me, throwing my bag on the kitchen table before I round the corner, going straight for the freezer. Most people would think since I’m an elementary school teacher, I’ll be prim and proper. Maybe I’m going for the ice cream, and I will. Later, much later. Right now, I need a shot. Or two. Maybe three. My emotions will get the best of me if I don’t calm my shit before making a much-needed phone call to my girl gang.
The coconut-flavored rum I just sucked back helps calm my nerves. I rest my forehead on the granite countertop, hoping it helps cool me down while the liquor works its magic. I can’t believe Ryder strode into my classroom today, and I can’t believe I thought he was married or had a girlfriend. Even when I felt him pressed up against me, I refused to let my thoughts wander down that rabbit hole. Tonight, though, all bets are off. My battery-operated boyfriend and I will most definitely be in action.
After a few more moments and one more shot, I take myself to the master bedroom. Aspen didn’t take a whole lot with her when she and Jasper moved into their new home. Not that our styles mesh all that great, but beggars can’t be choosers and free is free. I still help her at Vintage Threads on Saturdays, and we still have girls’ night and vacations when all of us can swing it.
The bedroom, though, is most definitely my style with its modern farmhouse vibes, blush bedspread, and floral accents. It’s freaking heavenly. I rip my sweater up and off my body, dying to get out of my bra, then slip out of my shoes and leggings. A tingle spreads through my body. There’s no way I’m going to be able to hold off until tonight. My nipples are pebbled, and I can already feel how wet I am with desire.
“Fuck,” I moan out loud, unhooking the front clasp of my bra, allowing it to fall off my shoulders and falling down to the floor. The thought of Ryder’s thick cock pressing against me has me yearning to feel him again. With those thoughts going through my mind, I know my date with B.O.B. is going to happen sooner than expected. I head to my nightstand and I pull out the drawer. A girl can never have too many options, and I’m definitely that girl. I know exactly which one I’ll be using too. I pull out my purple one—it’s smooth to the touch, but when you turn it on, it creates the most intense sensation imaginable. I climb on top of my bed, not needing any form of lubricant, not with the way my wetness is dripping down the inside of my thighs. If only Ryder were here right now. I’m pretty sure I would do anything I could to get inside his pants.
My imagination takes over. I turn my vibrator on to the lowest setting, rolling it around my pebbled nipples. I can imagine Ryder walking in, seeing my body on full display, my skin covered with goose bumps, legs spread, his name falling from my lips as my vibrator finally meets my clit.
“Oh God, Ryder,” I purr, heaviness in my body. After teasing myself, I finally push the vibrator inside my slick center, my body locking up as I do so, and I know this orgasm is going to come hard and fast.
The heavy vibrations, the way my hips meet every movement, it won’t be long before I’m falling apart.
My head is thrown back, my back arching, my legs locked. And with the way the vibrator’s attachment touches my clit, the suction amplifies the sensations running through my body and causes me to fall apart, and I didn’t even put my full imagination to work. The thought of Ryder watching me do this alone, him licking that full bottom lip, standing stoically while entranced the entire time, it was all it took.
“I am so screwed, and probably in the best way possible,” I mumble out loud, my body already feeling much better. I clean everything up, my bed calling me the entire time. “I’ll just take a small nap, then get up and make dinner.” I yawn before sliding into bed and letting sleep pull me under.
Six
Ryder
True to my word to Sienna, we spent the afternoon picking up groceries from the local market, ingredients for a dessert, and then we made an early dinner. It wasn’t long after that it was time for her to go home to Melody and for me to stop at the restaurant. I already know what’s going to happen—I’ll somehow get roped into helping with this or that. Which is fine normally, but not tonight. No, tonight is definitely the night I’m going to call a certain schoolteacher and have my own fucking naughty fantasies of her, especially now that I know her on a more one-on-one level.
Melody gives me that knowing look when I drop off Sienna. I just smirk. She’s not wrong, but I don’t allow her to talk about it either. I circle my keys around my pointer finger, letting her know I’m not sticking around. I hug them both, and Sienna says, “Love you, Uncle Ry-Ry. Be nice to Miss Jennings. I really like her,” sucker-punching me in the gut.
“Love you, Si. I promise I will. I like her too.” I wink at her and then head to my truck. My mind is on getting shit done, going home, and making a phone call. I’m hopeful as hell everything is running smoothly at Melody’s Steak House. Most don’t know I’m a silent partner, and I don’t flaunt it around town, nor do I want to. What would be the point in being a silent partner if that were the case? When I finished culinary school, and Melody somehow managed to finish her business degree while fooling around with Joseph, of course, when she was ready to open up the restaurant and I had a few years under my belt as a head chef, that was also when Melody found out she was pregnant.
I had money stashed away, waiting to invest in something, but for the time being, it was sitting in the bank doing nothing. It was common sense to invest with Melody, except I did not want to deal with the numbers side of shit. I was happy to do what I love, which is baking and cooking. Though, more on the cooking and creating side and less on the baked goods side. I do it with Sienna because she would beg me until I gave in. For the most part, though, I stick to the cooking side of things.
The best part of living in the small town of Valentine, Texas, is that everything is only a handful of minutes away. My condo is within ten minutes of the restaurant, and so is Melody’s place. I pull in after being deep in thought, already ready to be stuck here for the remainder of the early afternoon. I’m drawing the line once the dinner rush comes in.
I’m no sooner through the door when the sous chef is marching my way, a scornful look on his face.
“What’s wrong, Dan?” I ask quickly. The faster I can head this shit off, the better everything will be.
“The delivery. It’s not here,” he pouts. I pinch the bridge of my nose. I know for a fact it is. I off-loaded it this morning. I know I have my moments, most do in high-stress situations, but Dan seems to take the cake. He’s been on a fucking rampage lately, and I’m just about over his drama.
“Yes, it is, it’s already off-loaded in the cooler. I was here this morning and did the inventory. Did you even look?”
“No, it’s supposed to be at the front.” He stomps his foot, crossing his arms.
“Jesus, Dan. You have to look. Sometimes things don’t get rotated because there’s no room. This is common sense. Come on, man. It’s always something, and if you don’t shape up, who knows when Melody will get sick of your crap, because I’m already there,” I tell him before heading to the walk-in refrigerator.
