She neatly stamped each envelope and walked them to the mailbox just as Adam’s SUV pulled in the driveway. The boys jumped out of the car chatting a mile a minute and full of sugar from breakfast.
“Thanks for taking them.”
Tommy scoffed. “Isn’t she cute the way she acts like she’s going to blow us off without giving us any details?”
“Seriously.” Adam crossed his arms over his chest and raised a brow. “You’re inviting us in.”
She laughed and they followed her to her house where the boys were already playing in their rooms.
“So?”
She pulled a laundry basket in front of her, smiled, and whispered, “Amazing.”
Tommy clapped. “So I guess you’re going out with him again?”
Her face heated over her sore cheeks. It was tiring, holding a smile for so many hours straight. “Try and stop me.”
“Maybe we should move game night to Sundays,” Adam teased. “We’re not used to you having a social life.”
They chatted as Chloe folded clothes. She couldn’t hide how happy she was. “I’m going to have to talk to Day and Mattie about my relationship. Any suggestions?”
Tommy gave her a look that said she was asking the wrong guy. Adam, who had been present for Dayton’s previous outburst, took the question a little more seriously. “Did he tell you why he reacted so badly at first?”
“He said he’s forgetting what Marcus looks like.”
“I guess you don’t want any pictures of him around.”
“I don’t have any pictures of him. Day thinks if I go out with Trenton there’s no chance of Marcus and I reconciling.”
Tommy made a disgusted sound. “Like that would ever happen.”
“I told him that, basically. I tried to explain to him that Marcus and I simply didn’t get along, but he thinks his father only acted that way because I somehow provoked him.”
Adam squeezed her hand. “Honey, you know that’s not true. Abusers don’t need provocation. You were never to blame. He’s too young to understand.”
“I know, but I don’t know how to explain something so ugly to my nine-year-old.”
“Well,” Tommy said, keeping his tone light. “You can’t shelve your social life because your children don’t understand that their father is an asshole. They’re just going to have to realize their mother has a life outside of being mom.”
“How are they around Trent?” Adam asked a little more realistically.
“Fine. I mean, they only met him twice.”
“Do they know he’s the one who rescued you?”
“No, because that would entail sharing details about how I left their father without actually saying goodbye.” Something she hoped time would blur for both her children. “Dayton remembers us arguing, but I don’t know how much of the violence he actually recalls. You should have heard him tell me if I had been a better wife Marcus wouldn’t have been so angry all the time. He thinks I’m to blame for our separation, which I am because I left, but I won’t take the blame for Marcus being a monster.”
“Of course not.”
Tommy scoffed. “What does he know? He’s nine.”
“Exactly.” Adam tossed him a pointed look. “You can’t judge a child for what they’re too young to understand.”
Tommy waved away his words. “Honey, I’m gay. I judge.”
“Yeah, well, he’s nine. He doesn’t know any better.” Turning back to her, he suggested, “Maybe you should have Trent over for dinner so the kids can get to know him better.”
That seemed the best solution, so she invited Trenton over for supper that Wednesday. She wanted to make something everyone would like, so she went with a traditional feast of corn, mashed potatoes, salad, and red meat.
“Can I help?” Mattie asked.
“Did you finish your spelling words?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, then why don’t you set the table?”
Mattie was her little helper, always there to pitch in where he could. Dayton said he only had a few math problems for homework but had yet to emerge from his room. He was her procrastinator.
“What’s your brother doing?”
Mattie shrugged. “Playing video games I guess.”
A few minutes later the potatoes were boiling, the salad was waiting to be dressed, and the corn heated on the stove. Chloe called for Dayton and turned to her youngest. “Mattie, I have to go start the grill. When your brother gets out here ask him to straighten up the living room.”
When she returned from outside the pillows on the couches were still not tidied and comic books littered the coffee table. She frowned. “Did you tell your brother what I said?”
The table was set and Mattie now perused a word game website on her laptop at the counter. “Yeah.”
She hoped Dayton wasn’t going to make this evening difficult. While Mattie’s back was turned she quickly switched the forks to the proper sides of the plates and straightened the napkins.
“Dayton?” She moved to stir the corn.
“What?”
“Why didn’t you straighten the living room like I asked?”
Without a word, he skulked to the den and shoved his comic books into a basket. He pushed the pillows where they were supposed to go but didn’t bother fluffing them. “Mattie, get your crap out of here.”
She took a deep breath. “Dayton, can you please use nicer words?”
He huffed. “Well, I’m not picking up his shoes.”
“Mattie, could you please put your shoes in your bedroom?”
Mattie paused his game and did as she asked.
She regarded her eldest. “Are you planning on being grumpy all night?”
He shrugged.
“Dayton, I told you, I just want you to get to know Mr. Cole. No one is replacing anyone.”
“Whatever.”
“If you can’t find your manners you’ll find yourself eating dinner alone in your room. Now, put ice in the glasses—please.” She really hoped he wasn’t going to be rude. Sending him to his room would defeat the purpose of the evening—getting to know Trenton.
He muttered something under his breath and she blocked his grumbling out with the sound of the mixer as she whipped the milk and butter into the soft potatoes.
“Who wants to lick the whisks?”
It was a decent olive branch as both came running. As Dayton tossed his in the sink she brushed her hand over his shaggy hair. “This is getting so long.”
He shouldered off her touch and her heart pinched. Every day there seemed a new wall between them. Not letting him escape that easily, she pulled him to her.
“Hey. I love you, Dayton. Whether you realize it or not, there isn’t one thing in my life that means more to me than you or your brother.”
The tension in his shoulders eased as he stared at her, his eyes still stormy, but softening enough to let her know he understood.
She hugged him. Then, she teasingly asked, “How about this weekend we get this rug clipped?”
He gasped and shoved away. “You said I could grow it as long as I didn’t fight with Mattie.”
She smiled. “I know. I was joking. I appreciate you being nicer to your brother. I’m sure he appreciates it, too. Remember that next time you yell at him to pick up his ‘crap’, and maybe use a nicer word, okay?”
Realizing she was reminding him of their agreement, he nodded. “Okay. Sorry.”
Chloe was flipping the steaks on the grill when Mattie came outside. “Mom, Mr. Cole just pulled up.”
All at once, her chest, stomach, and sex tightened as she went to greet him at the front door.
As he walked up the steps he smiled. He was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt and carried a white bakery box tied with a red string.
“Hey, beautiful.” He kissed her on the cheek and her heart did a little somersault.
“Hi.” Already breathless, she welcomed him into the house.
“Can I do anything?
”
“Everything’s about ready.” She carried the side dishes to the table.
“This looks great.”
“Thanks. I just need to get the steaks off the grill and then we can eat. Mattie, go wash your hands and tell Dayton it’s time to eat.”
“Oh, hey buddy. I didn’t see you there.” Trenton turned back to her and smiled. “You made steak?”
She blushed and smiled back at him, knowing it was his favorite. Grabbing a large plate she headed to the grill. Trenton, she noticed, took the time to fill everyone’s glasses with iced tea. He was very thoughtful of others and not one of those men who considered dinner prep below him. She supposed growing up in a family of seven would teach a man to be helpful.
They sat down and she dished out food on the boy’s plates. “Trenton, you’ll probably want this one. The others aren’t as rare.”
“Thank you, Chloe.”
They ate in silence for a bit. Chloe nervously watched the boys as she took small bites of her food. “How was school today?”
“Good.”
“Fine.”
Mattie perked up. “Sister Gertrude farted in social studies.”
Dayton snorted into his iced tea and Chloe’s eyes widened, heat rushing to her face.
“You boys go to Catholic school?” Trenton asked, not flinching at the fart comment.
Both Dayton and Mattie nodded.
“I used to go to Catholic school. Of course, back then it was a little different.”
“How come?” Mattie asked.
“Well…” Trenton smiled. “Back then if you laughed at a farting nun they’d whack you on the knuckles with a ruler.”
Dayton chuckled and Mattie’s eyes widened. “They used to hit you?”
“Only if we were rude.”
“Well, when Sister Gertrude let it rip everyone laughed. She didn’t say anything though.”
Chloe clucked her tongue. “She was probably embarrassed.”
“Did you ever get hit?” Dayton asked Trenton.
He chewed a piece of his steak, his mouth twisting into a somewhat proud smirk. “A few times.”
“What’d you do?”
“Well, one time it was for talking back. Another time it was for taking an extra cake off the snack cart. But the worst time was for repeatedly writing my cursive letters wrong.”
Dayton gaped. “They hit you for bad handwriting?”
Trenton laughed. “Yeah, but that was the norm back then. If you were a good student you usually didn’t have any trouble. I bet your mom never got the ruler. She earned the Religion Award. Did you boys know that?”
She rolled her eyes and pointed her fork at him. “You hush.” To her sons, she said, “You two, eat. That’s enough talk about farts and angry nuns for one dinner.”
Trenton took a large bite of mashed potatoes and grinned around his fork.
After dinner, the boys asked if they could go outside for a little bit and she agreed but told them to stay in the yard. Trenton helped her clear the table.
“That was delicious, doll.”
“Thank you.” She started a pot of coffee. As she filled the sink with suds and wet her sponge he approached from behind, pulling her hips against his as he kissed her neck. Shivers scattered down her spine.
“I’ve missed you,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her.
The boys’ voices echoed in the backyard as they chased a soccer ball over the grass. Trenton’s fingers flicked open the button of her pants and she gripped the lip of the sink. She drew in a shaky breath, wondering if she should be concerned about how easily he turned her on.
“I missed you, too.”
“When can you come over again?” His hand pressed into the front of her panties, teasing her clit. His voice lowered as he whispered in her ear, “I wish I could put my mouth here.” His finger slid inside of her and she sucked in a breath.
She let out a disappointed sigh. “Friday’s Adam’s mother’s birthday, so that’s out.”
He nibbled her ear. “Saturday?”
“I don’t know if Saturday’s going to work. Tommy’s trying to get tickets to some event.”
“I don’t think I can make it to Monday.” His touch intensified and her eyes closed.
“We could probably get together during the day, but I’m not sure if a sleepover’s doable this weekend.”
He nibbled her shoulder. “I could ask Phoenix if the boys could have a sleepover with Austin.” The bulge of his erection pressed into her as he wedged a finger between her folds. “I want you to come.”
“Trenton…”
“Do it for me, Chloe.” His fingers thrust in and out, his palm running over her clit with each push. “You’re soaked. You know you want to.” His wet fingers traced over her, rubbing quickly as his hips rocked. “Give in.”
Her head fell back on a silent cry as her muscles spasmed and her knees softened. “Trenton.”
He kissed her throat. “Mmm, I love when you say my name like that.” He slowly adjusted her pants. “Let my sister watch the boys for you, Chloe. She’s great with kids.”
Even with her head in an orgasmic fog, her gut said no. “That seems like a lot to ask.”
“I could also ask Georgia and Amanda to babysit. They could come here.”
There was nothing wrong with his sisters and she appreciated the offer, but her boys were comfortable with Adam and Tommy. She was comfortable with them. Turning to face him, she wreathed her arms over his shoulders and kissed his lips.
“You know I like your family, but the boys hardly know them and we need to move at their pace, not ours. Can you understand that?”
His smile was empathetic. “Yes, I can understand that.”
“Thank you.”
When they finished the dishes she poured coffee, hers with cream and sugar, his black, just the way he liked it. She took pride in remembering such details and saw that he appreciated her attention.
They settled in at the table, her eyes drifting to the box he’d brought. “So, what’s in the box?”
“Cannoli.”
She groaned. “I love them!”
He untied the string, lifting the lid and turned the box to her. Lined up like little snowy soldiers were a dozen Cannoli, each one sitting on its own ruffled doily. Her mouth watered.
Plucking a powdered shell from the wrapper, he held it out to her. The white creamy filling seeped from the edges, freckled with mini chocolate chips.
“Taste.”
Leaning forward, she closed her mouth over the creamy tip and they each moaned.
“God, I love that mouth. Taste it again.”
She smirked and stole another dollop. This time he leaned in and replaced the dessert with his mouth, chasing the sweetness and stealing her breath. Easing back, he sighed. They each wore the same regretful expression that they couldn’t take things further.
A few minutes and two Cannoli later, Dayton and Mattie returned, devouring several of the Italian treats. She and Trenton finished their coffee and he washed out his mug, preparing to leave.
It was frustrating being an adult, owning her own practice, and taking accountability for two children, a home and all the responsibilities in between, yet not being able to have her boyfriend sleep over. She wanted to pout but kept herself in check.
She told the boys to go get into their pajamas and walked Trenton to his truck. Along the side of the house, where her boys wouldn’t see, they kissed goodbye. She wound up kicking herself for it, because he’d once again stirred up her hormones, and it would be days before she saw him again.
When he finally pulled away an emptiness settled in her chest so deep it ached. She tossed and turned that night as she tried to fall asleep. As if on cue, just after eleven, her phone rang from her nightstand.
She smiled when she read the display. “Hello?”
“Hey, gorgeous. Did I wake you?”
“Hardly.”
He made a low tsking sound. “What�
��s the matter, doll? Can’t sleep?”
She breathed into the phone. “Nope. I’m wide awake.”
“What are you wearing?”
She laughed. “Honestly?”
“Honestly.”
Looking down, she considered lying but opted for the truth. “An old t-shirt and a pair of sweats.”
He groaned as if she said Frederick’s of Hollywood. “Mmm. Do you have those cute little ankle socks on?”
She laughed. “Yes.”
“Dear God…” He moaned. “Tell me it’s the shirt that smells like rotten eggs and I may just come right now.”
She snorted. “No, I burned that shirt.”
“Where are the kids?”
“Sleeping.”
“What are you watching?”
“Reruns.”
“Should have known.” He chuckled. “Turn the volume up and go lock the door.”
She stilled.
“You there, doll?”
“Why am I locking the door?”
“Because in about two minutes your fingers are going to be buried between your thighs. Now, do as I said.”
Swallowing, she reached for the remote and turned up the volume a few notches, and then climbed out from under the covers and went to lock the door. “What now?”
“Take off the sweats. Panties too.”
Pinching the phone between her shoulder and ear, she slid down her pants, accidentally hitting a button on the keypad. “Sorry.”
“Are you sitting on the bed?”
She moved back under the covers. “Yes.”
“Are you wet, doll?”
Her face heated. “I don’t know.”
“Touch yourself and check.”
She didn’t have to. She knew she was. Her hand slid between her thighs anyway. “A little.”
“Good. I want you to get your fingers wet. I can still smell you on mine from earlier.”
Her breath echoed into the phone as she extended her touch.
“Now I want you to touch your nipples with your wet fingers.” He waited a moment. “Are you doing it?”
Her eyes closed as she imagined her hands as his. “Yes.”
“How does it feel? How do those beautiful breasts feel?”
“Heavy.” She pulled at her nipples and breathed deeply. “They ache.”
Something Borrowed (New Castle Book 3) Page 16
