“I’ve missed you, too. Mama said we had to move out but I hate the hotel room. It stinks.”
“I’ve been trying to get your mama and you to move back into my place. I’ll keep sweet-talking her.”
I couldn’t hear the rest of their conversation as he carried Thayer with him to stand in the street to allow a group of children to walk across. Thayer’s head fell back and I could hear his high-pitched laughter wishing so badly that we were in the confines of our own home and not out here where work had to be done.
“So this was what you were doing at the school the other day?” I asked.
“I plan to be here for the next two months. This is the dad thing to do, so all of us dads rotate every week. After my two months are up, I’m going to try and volunteer in his class. Right, Buddy?”
“Yeah!”
“At least when I have the time.”
“I’m proud of you. You’re really putting yourself out there.”
“I am. It feels good, too.”
“Mama, when can we move back in to Thatcher’s house? This weekend?”
“I don’t know when we can-” I stopped, realizing how I’d misspoke, “what I mean is we can’t live with Thatcher forever.”
“Why not?” They both asked in unison.
I looked at the both of them. Their eyes the exact shade of blue, their prominent cheek bones and matching dimples. It was like looking at the inside of my heart. I had no answer. Not any feasible one, anyway. I shrugged my shoulders and did what any mom would do in this situation and changed the subject.
“Thayer’s got to get to school. Let’s go before you’re late.”
“This isn’t the end of us,” Thatcher promised.
Boy, didn’t I know it. I smiled and with one final glance, he held the stop sign up and began walking out into the middle of the road when Thayer unexpectedly ran ahead of him. The squeal of tires screeching along the pavement was all it took for me to lurch myself forward even as I saw Thatcher trying to stop Thayer ahead of me.
“Abby? Abby? Are you okay?”
I slowly opened my eyes and it took a second to remember what happened. “Where’s Thayer?”
“I’m here, Mama. Are you awake now?”
I looked up and saw Thayer sitting in the grass next to my right shoulder. Thatcher knelt beside me, his face pale and his eyebrows cast down in an unpleasant line.
“I’m awake. Did I get hit by that car?” I asked, still confused, even as I assessed any damage to my body.
“No one got hit by the car. You just blacked out. You don’t remember running into me?”
“No.” I sat up slowly and looked around. Life and school were all going on as if this hadn’t happened except for the principal and who I presumed was the car that almost ran the crosswalk. Norma Willis. Ah, shucks. That old bat couldn’t see the Bingo numbers at the senior center and she was driving? Someone better take her license away.
“Thayer ran ahead of us and I was able to grab him just in the nick of time. You were right behind me trying to do the same and you ran into me as I stopped. Next thing I know, my arms are around you and you’re out. I carried you over here and he’s been-”
“I was scared about you. I didn’t want to go anywhere.”
“It’s okay. Mama’s fine. That could have been really, really bad. Thank God you stopped him.” I said to Thatcher.
He reached over and ruffled Thayer’s blond hair and my whole life flashed before my eyes. My boys. These two. I couldn’t think of loving anything more, ever. Thatcher made me feel things I’d been without for the past five years. And Thayer. He was one in a million.
Looking into Thatcher’s stormy blue eyes, I could see where he got it from.
Right there, in the scratchy lawn in front of the elementary school, I got the proof I needed that Thatcher would stay with us forever this time. The gleam in his eyes as he and Thayer chattered on about the car nearly running into Thayer. The way Thayer leaned into Thatcher like he trusted him with his heart. I’m sure our little boy did. He was a child and Thatcher was great at being a role model to him. Of course, Thayer loved him. Who didn’t?
“Let’s get your mama up and get you to school.” Thayer stood eagerly and held out his hand in just the way Thatcher did, trying to help me into a standing position.
“You sure you’re okay now?”
“Yes. I’m fine. I don’t know what come over me.”
We took Thayer into school where an aide took him to his classroom and we waved goodbye.
“I have to make a quick stop to meet these trustees. You okay coming in with me or would you like to wait in the truck?”
I knew he meant in regards to his grandfather’s will and I honestly felt okay enough to do just about anything.
“I’ll go in with you. I’m fine, really.”
He parked the truck outside of a small brick house across the street from the library and rushed around to help me out. “Stop fussing.” I said.
A wiry, short, bald man waited for us on the porch step, “Hello, Thatcher. This will not take long at all.”
“This is Abigail Murphy. Abby, this is Martin. He’s been the one administering my grandfather’s last wishes.”
“Hello,” I shook his hand and stepped inside as the men allowed me to pass before them.
Martin cleared his throat, “We could sit, but it’s all quite simple. I only need to give you this. Consider all of the will business closed.”
He passed Thatcher an envelope that Thatcher immediately ripped open. “It’s the money?” he asked, perplexed.
“It’s the money. It’s all yours. I’m immensely excited to see that this is over. Your grandpa was a clever one – which caused more work for us.”
“I didn’t meet the terms, though.”
“This was his idea all along. You were going to get the money. There was no question about that. He wanted to make sure you,” the man gestured between Thatcher and me, “opened your eyes.”
Thatcher threw his head back and laughed. A whole-hearted belly laugh that I hadn’t heard in a while and I couldn’t help but smile. What an ordeal.
“Thanks,” Thatcher said. “I’m glad this is over too.”
We hopped back into his truck and I didn’t feel the need to say much. His grandfather did some crazy things to help his grandson out. Thatcher insisted he take me home – to his home – and I leaned my head back onto the cool leather seat and breathed a sigh of relief at all the events in the past thirty minutes. The check. Knowing Thayer was safe and I knew Thatcher and I were going to be okay. I didn’t know what this realization of mine meant. Just as I didn’t know what was going through Thatcher’s brain right at this moment. But I knew one thing: I knew the sweet, kind-hearted man sitting next to me. I knew what made him laugh and what didn’t. I knew what made him happy and complete. I knew beneath that tough layer of skin, that there was a man who was imperfect and one who made mistakes. There was a strong man who had his own layers of fear and grief. A man that was loyal and loving – a man who would put his life on the line to make sure Thayer and I were safe.
The rest of the ride home was quiet and when he pulled into the driveway, I all but hopped out, wanting to get inside as fast as possible. Immediately his home smell – his laundry soap mixed with his shower wash – comforted me in a way I could never have imagined. Being away from all of this for two weeks was enough to cause cracks in my heart once again.
“Would you like anything? Water?”
I shook my head. “No, thank you. I’m okay. Can we just sit?”
“It would make me feel a hell of a lot better if you did. Maybe nap? I almost lost my shit when you fainted.”
“I’m fine now. You receiving that check has worn off the shock a bit.”
His arms came around me in an instant. Warm, strong arms that I’d missed terribly. I leaned into his solid chest, comforted at the thought that I was home. He was my home and how could I ever give that away? For those five years I was marri
ed to another man, I was merely visiting my home away from home. After the divorce, I was determined to start living and taking the reins of leading my life. Thatcher was the first step in that goal. I had to take the steps to get there. If that meant risking yet another broken heart, so be it. I was invested in him for the long haul. After what happened at the school, I’d bet my insurance money on Thatcher. That he would stay with us, through the good and bad, through the difficult parenting times and not.
“Abigail?”
“Hmmm?” I asked, trying to pull away enough to look up into his eyes.
“Will you…will you marry me?” his voice cracked.
“What?” he was dead serious. Those blue eyes of his were solemn like I’d never seen them. Bare honesty shining in them.
“We don’t even, I don’t…you don’t have a ring. I mean, I know I’m generally laid back and all, but Thatcher-”
“Here.” He held up a small ring, the diamonds glinted in the morning sunlight, casting a dazzling spell along the walls and ceiling. “Here, Abigail Layne,” he dropped down onto the sofa and with me still standing, pulled me between his legs as his hands bit into my hips and his face nuzzled my belly. “Will you marry me?”
My hands tumbled over the top of his short hair as I pulled on his face to get him to look up at me.
“When did you get that?”
He let go of my hip and the little ring dazzled in the sunlight once again. “In Deer Creek. It’s been burning a hole in my pocket ever since. Is that a yes then?”
He took my hand and slid the ring onto my finger. It was perfect. Beautiful. Subtle. Laid-back. Not too fancy.
“Yes. Fuck, yes.”
He bellowed out in laughter and pulled me against him. My legs straddled his thighs. “It’s taken so long to get here.”
His erection caused me to lose my train of thought and I couldn’t stop my hips from grinding into him. “It’s taken too long to get here.”
“That was all my fault,” he said.
He pushed me back horizontal onto the sofa and hovered over me. His mouth moved across my breasts, finding my pert nipple beneath the thin cloth. I arched back as his teeth dug into the hard bud sending shockwaves down to my toes.
“Your nipples are so hard. All I’ve thought about is you beneath me as I made you come. Your tight pussy as it pulsed around my cock, has kept me awake multiple nights, Abigail.”
I writhed beneath him, loving his dirty talk as his hands roamed my body. He undid the buttons on my shorts and swiftly pulled them to my knees, taking my panties with them.
“Your lips are ready for me. Wet and slick. I bet you I’d just slide right in, wouldn’t I?”
“Yeah,” I groaned. “Put your fingers in me, Thatcher.”
“Whatever the lady asks, she shall receive.”
His fingers entered me slowly and I bucked my hips trying to get him to penetrate me, hard. He played with my clit with his other hand as I snuck a peek at the shiny, new ring on my finger and I knew it wouldn’t take long to come. I’d been a mess without him and finally being this close to him, feeling him and seeing how hard he was, I was going to lose it.
“Come for me, Abby.”
“Not yet.” I pulled myself up and deftly unbuttoned his jeans, exposing his cock. My hands gripped his ridged flesh like a drug and I jerked it violently, desperate for him to feel all the things he was making me feel.
“Stop, Abby.”
He gripped my wrists and pushed me back against the sofa. He pulled my shorts and panties off completely and the next moment, his cock head was aligned with my sex as my legs were spread wide across the sofa.
“I don’t have a condom.”
“I don’t care, Thatcher. I know you haven’t been with anyone else.”
He plunged deeply inside of and I let out a yelp. He’d maneuvered me enough that he was on his knees on top of the cushion, pumping into me with my legs spread and my back half off the arm of the sofa.
I watched his face as he possessed me. His hooded blue eyes went from a cornflower blue to arctic and when he placed his thumb over my exposed clit, I felt the size of him increase and both of us released into a jarring, pulsing climax that left us momentarily speechless.
“I love you so fucking much, Abigail.”
“I know. I love you, too. Promise me forever?”
“I think I promised you that a long time ago. It’s just taken me a while to live up to it.”
Hell yes it has.
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Also by Ashley Bostock
Girls with Guns Series
Gun Shy
Trigger Happy
Pistol Whipped
Packin’ Heat
Love in Lone Star
Wet
Wild
Wicked
Standalones
All I Want For Christmas
One Summer Night
About the Author
Ashley Bostock was born and raised in Colorado where she currently resides with her husband, two children and her animals. She loves reading, writing, and music and is always trying to find more time in the day to incorporate all three.
Seeking an outlet and pursuing her life-long passion for writing, she began composing her first novel in 2013. She has traveled all over the world, but still has an extensive list of places she would love to visit. Anywhere near a sky-blue ocean will always be at the top of that list.
She carries a Bachelor’s Degree in History with a concentration in Elementary Education from Metropolitan State College of Denver. While she loves children, she now fears teaching, which probably has something to do with being a stay-at-home mom.
She is mostly active on Instagram, but feel free to follow her at any or all of her social media pages!
To connect with Ashley
@_AshleyBostock
AuthorAshleyBostock
www.ashleybostock.com
[email protected]
Wild: A Small Town Romance (Love in Lone Star Book 2) Page 20
