Текст книги "Hold On"

Автор книги: Kristen Ashley

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 35 страниц)

Oh God.

I wasn’t hiding anything.

He knew.

“Merry,” I whispered.

He bent his head and slid his nose down the side of mine, his lips a breath away, his blue eyes becoming my whole world.

“Wanna kiss you,” he whispered back.

God, God…Merry.

“Then kiss me, baby.”

I lost his eyes as he angled his head and kissed me.

It wasn’t hard and rough and demanding, pushing me to go where he wanted me to be.

It wasn’t soft and sweet and gushy, making our moment gooey instead of the beauty that it was.

It was wet and long and tender, the perfect kiss to end the perfect date with the perfect guy.

And when he lifted his head, I knew he was intent on keeping that perfect going when he let me go but took my hand and, without a word, walked me toward the hall that fed off his living room.

I followed him down the hall and into a dark room. I followed him through that dark room and I stopped with him, feeling his hand release mine.

He bent to turn on a light and I didn’t take anything in.

I noticed the bed and that was all there needed to be.

He was turned to me and he was shrugging off the jacket of his dark gray suit, fully exposing the electric-blue shirt underneath.

I knew what to give him. I knew what men wanted. I knew where to go, how to lead him there with me. I knew it better than anybody.

And I was good at giving it.

So when his hands lifted to the top buttons of his shirt, I held his eyes and put my hands to the front of my thighs, curling my fingers in.

The second I did, his hands dropped from his shirt and he took the single step he needed to be in my space.

“No, baby,” he murmured.

Again…

No?

He put his hands to my waist and slid them down, whispering, “I know you aren’t gonna make me sit across from you in that dress all through dinner and then take away my opportunity to take it off you.”

My breath caught and I felt a flood of wet between my legs.

I might know how to give it good.

But Merry knew how to give it better.

He slid his hands back up along my sides as he held my gaze. Then he bent in.

My lips parted in preparation, but his just brushed mine before they trailed along my cheek, my jaw. He touched his tongue to my ear, causing a shiver to tremble through me before he lifted his head and caught my eyes.

It was then he watched me as he glided his hands back to my waist, down to my hips. They didn’t clench in. They pressed in, lifting up, taking the silky, stretchy fabric with them so it slithered up my legs.

Oh God. That felt good. Good enough that I had to hang on or I was going to go down.

Instead, I decided to concentrate on something, so I lifted my hands to the buttons of his shirt.

He dipped in again and gave me a short, wet kiss, a touch of the tongues.

I got one button undone and was down to the next as he slid my dress all the way up to my hips.

I was breathing heavier as I got the next button undone. That was when he moved his mouth to my neck, his hands back, down, up, and in the hem of my dress that was now at my ass. Then he pushed his hands down, and cupped my ass as his teeth nipped the skin of my neck.

Oh yes.

More good.

I gave up on the buttons because I had no choice. My legs were failing. I curled my hands in his shirt and leaned into his body, pressing my breasts to his chest.

He moved his mouth to my ear.

“Lift your arms, Cherie.”

I uncurled my fingers and lifted my arms.

Merry drew back and slid the dress slowly the rest of the way, exposing most of me because I wasn’t wearing a bra, though I had on a lacy black thong.

His eyes dropped to me as he tossed the dress aside. Then his hands came back at the sides of my upper ribs and slid down as his gaze roamed.

God, he didn’t even need to touch me.

God, I’d never gone this slow. Never been this turned on, not with virtually nothing happening.

I’d never wanted something so badly.

No, someone.

“Merry,” I whispered, and even I could hear the need dripping from his name.

His eyes cut back to mine and I couldn’t beat back my gasp at the hungry blaze I saw burning deep before his fingers dug into my flesh, lifting.

I hopped up as he brought me to him, shifting. I curled my legs around his hips and he put a knee in the bed, his mouth coming to mine.

My back met bed as his mouth opened over mine and his tongue slid inside.

From then, it didn’t go any less slow. Merry guiding, me following his lead, we touched. We kissed. We tasted. We trailed. I got his shirt off him. He separated long enough to rid himself of his shoes and socks. He gently dragged my panties down my legs. I went after his belt and held his gaze as he lay on his back in the bed and bucked his hips while I pulled his trousers and boxers down his.

Naked, it didn’t go any faster. It wasn’t about experience. Feeding the need. Taking what you wanted. Getting into your head and getting lost in the feeling.

It also wasn’t exploring.

It was memorizing.

Basking.

Worshiping.

I was so into him, it was unreal. Listening. Watching. What a touch would do. The trail of my tongue. The nip of my teeth. The stroke of my hand.

I was dragging my lips along the crisp hair over the hard muscle of his stomach with a destination in mind when he pulled me up and showed me he was where I was.

That being, he was so into me, it was unreal. Listening. Watching. What his touch did to me. The trail of his tongue. The nip of his teeth. The stroke of his hand.

It might have been fifteen minutes; it might have been three hours. All I knew was by the time he was finally ready to give me what I needed, I was more ready to get it than I’d ever been in my life.

And even that he gave me in a way only Merry could give me.

He righted us in his bed, my head to his pillows, strangely proper, powerfully proper, like this time, our first time as an us, taking a shot at what we could be, he was going to do it right.

He reached toward the nightstand, his eyes never leaving mine.

I curled my legs around his thighs, careful of the shoes I was still wearing, not wanting to spike him with a heel, my arms gliding around his back, my gaze locked to his.

He kept it that way as his lips fell to mine and he murmured, “Take care of this for me, baby.”

He found my hand and pressed the condom in it.

I didn’t fuck around unwrapping it.

But when I brought it between us and found his cock, I took my time rolling it on.

I watched the hunger burn in his eyes and my erratic breathing became panting, feeling his thick cock pulse under my fingers.

When I got the condom to the base, he nipped my lower lip with his teeth.

Shit yeah.

I tightened my hold on him with my limbs, through all this our eyes connected. They stayed connected as I slid him through my wet, touching my tongue to my lower lip as his teeth sunk into his.

God, fucking, fucking Merry.

Just that…so hot.

I led him to my opening and he immediately pushed in half an inch.

I let out a soft gust of breath, sliding my hand away, across his hip, around, up his spine, into his hair.

When I had a hold, slowly—God, so unbelievably, beautifully slowly—Garrett Merrick filled me.

Connected with me.

Became a part of me.

I stared at him and felt it. Felt him inside. Felt his heat. His weight. Felt his arms wrapped around me. Felt my body wrapped around him.

I felt all that and I felt something else.

My eyes were not burning. No dryness. No pain.

They were wet.

Merry stared into them, the heat in his not waning but a new warmth joining it, before his head slanted and he kissed me.

Then he made love to me.

I was far from a virgin.

But that was my first time.

My first time ever.

My first time where a man thought enough about me to make love to me.

It was slow. It was tender. It included wet kisses. Eye contact. Silent communication. I touched him, clutched him, held him to me.

He drove deep and rhythmic, his arms wrapped around me.

It was there but it built, the slow, constant pounding of him against my clit, his cock inside me. When it started to come over me, I knew it was going to happen with just his cock and it was going to be bigger than anything.

“Merry,” I whispered, my hand moving from his ass up to his hair, my fingers clenching.

He stroked in and, suddenly, it bolted through me.

“Merry,” I gasped, his mouth hitting mine, his tongue touching the tip of mine, and I moaned down his throat.

The slow left him and he went faster, harder, driving into me, pounding deep, bodies connected, mouths connected, his tongue now as greedy as his cock thrusting inside, my orgasm swelling and hovering.

I kept hold on his hair, my legs curling tight around his thighs, my arm slanting across his back, fingers pressing in the muscle of his lat, anchoring him to me as whimpers escaped, filling his mouth, my body under his trembling.

When finally he broke the kiss but not the connection of our lips, his grunts mingling with my whimpers.

He planted his cock deep and groaned, “Cher,” before his body bucked and his growl of release filled my mouth.

After he gave me that, he tore his mouth from mine and thrust once more, hard and deep, while he moved to press his forehead into the side of my neck.

I felt it leave him as it left me and I began stroking him, running the tips of my fingers through his hair, tracing the defined lines of the muscles of his back, the rest of me unmoving.

Merry’s arms gave me a powerful squeeze before he shifted to kiss my neck and then lifted his head.

He looked into my eyes.

I looked into his.

I kept stroking.

Merry took one arm from around me, wrapped his hand around my neck, and moved his thumb along my throat, up, sweeping it over my jaw, up, across my cheek, then over my lips where he left it gliding, back and forth, back and forth. A gentler kind of claiming, even though there was nothing left of me to be claimed.

If he wanted me, I belonged to Garrett Merrick.

All of me.

We stayed this way a long time. No words.

But they weren’t needed. For once in my life, I hoped, I prayed, I dreamed that I was getting it right and this was what it seemed to be.

Without warning, but doing it gently, he slid out and rolled off, shifting me as he did so I was on my side.

He disengaged just as slowly, my legs automatically closing as they lost purchase on his hips.

He was at the side of the bed, through all this never losing eye contact with me. He lost it only when his gaze swept the length of me.

When it came back, he said quietly, “Don’t move.”

I nodded.

He got out of bed and walked to one of the three doors in the room.

The light went on inside it as he disappeared and I saw it was a bathroom.

He’d told me not to move, but with him gone, I realized I was in Garrett Merrick’s bedroom, so I took that opportunity to quickly look around.

From what I’d seen of the rest of his pad, I wasn’t surprised to see not much here either. Two nightstands. Two lamps on them. A tall, six-drawer dresser. A lamp on that. The bed.

On the nightstand that was right in front of me, there was change, crumpled receipts, a used pack of gum, a lighter, and not much else.

Looking over my shoulder to the other one and the dresser, there seemed to be more detritus of this type, an alarm clock, and not much else.

Except there were three trophies on his dresser, but not like they were on display. Like they’d been put there, pushed aside, or shifted when more room was needed. On the top of one was a man standing, rifle to his shoulder, eye to the sight. The top of another trophy that was not quite as tall (but still tall) had another man, same pose, but holding a handgun. The last one that was slightly shorter had a man on his stomach, his rifle aimed.

But that was it.

Just like the rest of his place. Functional and a lot of nothing else.

The one surprise was the furniture. Although there were no prints on the walls, no personality, the furniture in this room was really nice. Fabulous wood that was in a medium stain, not dark, not light. In the drawers on the dresser and nightstands, but in a far more spectacular way with the high headboard, the wood was set in a chevron design that was gorgeous, manly, but it was something I would not object to having for me.

The light went out in the bathroom and I lost interest in Merry’s furniture when I saw Merry making his way back to me.

Yes, the hair on his stomach that pointed to what was not right then a buried treasure (but not long ago it had been a treasure buried in me) was awe-inspiring.

The treasure it was pointed to was just awesome.

Garrett Merrick had a beautiful cock, even now as it was, semi-hard after making love to me.

The length was perhaps just above average.

It was the girth that meant everything.

I lost sight of it, sadly, when the room went dark.

I felt the bed move, the bedclothes being whipped around. That stopped when I found my ankle in Merry’s grip, and even in the dark, he made short work of unbuckling my sandal and sliding it off. He moved to the other one. That accomplished, the bed shifted again, then I found the covers over me about a half a second before I found myself wound up in Merry.

“Pains me to say this,” he started after he’d settled us how he wanted us (and, to make it clear, how I wanted it to be, maybe for eternity). “But I ain’t twenty anymore. You starin’ at my dick like that, sweetheart, after what we just had, you’re gonna have to give me some time.” He paused before he finished, “Least twenty, thirty minutes.”

I laughed softly as I pushed closer to Garrett Merrick in his bed, his naked body tied up in me.

He must have liked that because his arms tightened around me.

Suddenly, it all hit me with a power that made me wonder why it didn’t blow me to smithereens.

Garrett Merrick had spent more than two hundred dollars on a dinner with me. He’d told me he wanted to kiss me, knowing what me kissing him back would mean. He’d made love to me, made love to me, me.

Me.

Me.

Me.

Eye contact throughout. Saying my name when he came inside me.

And now we were in his bed, naked, and he was holding me and teasing me.

“That wasn’t fucking, was it?” I blurted.

It seemed his body further solidified against mine for a moment before he relaxed and slid his hand up into my hair.

He knew I’d never had that.

He now knew he was the first who ever gave that to me.

“No, Cher,” he said gently. “That was nowhere near fucking.”

Yes, straight up, burn it in my brain…

I could not fuck this up.

I couldn’t.

He was the best thing that ever happened to me.

Not getting a goodness so good it was unreal after being stupid and getting knocked up by a junkie, the way I got Ethan.

A goodness I got because I earned it simply by being me.

Understanding that, as it seemed I was prone to do with Merry, I kept blurting.

“I want you to get to know my kid better. Tomorrow. He’s got a sleepover with Teddy, but I’m droppin’ him at the game. They’re meeting there. Teddy’s parents go to the game because their older boy plays. He’s goin’ home with them after. But before, we can take him to dinner.”

Merry didn’t say anything.

Shit, that was too soon.

“Or we can wait,” I said quickly.

“I take you and Ethan for pizza, once we drop him off, do I get you at your place?”

Not too soon.

I closed my eyes slowly before I answered, “Yeah.”

“You’re on.”

I snuggled deeper.

Merry kept his hand in my hair as he wrapped his other arm so tight around my waist, I felt his fingers skim the skin on my belly.

His warmth, his strength, my orgasm, his fantastic mattress, I wanted to stay awake and feel all that, but I couldn’t stop myself from feeling drowsy.

And drowsy, sated, held close by Merry, my mouth kept running.

“Thanks for not fuckin’ me.”

I felt his body move with a chuckle that wasn’t audible.

“Thanks for lettin’ me not fuck you,” he replied.

“Anytime,” I mumbled, starting to drift.

“Cherie?” he called.

“Yeah, Merry.”

Cherie. Merry.

Fuck, it was goofy as all get-out.

But it was also like we were meant to be.

“This is good. Proof. Truth. Remember this, honey. We hold on to this, what we just had, what we got right now, the night we shared, we don’t fuck that up, we can stick it, you and me.”

My throat closed.

My eyes started burning.

But I powered through it being me.

“Stop bein’ gooey.”

That got me more of his lean body moving in my arms, telling me he was laughing.

He got control of that, tipped his head so his lips were against my hair, and ordered, “Go to sleep, brown eyes.”

“See you in the morning, gorgeous.”

“Believe it, baby.”

I believed.

Finally, I believed.

And for the first time in my life, held tight to Merry, it didn’t scare the shit out of me.

Chapter Twelve

The Pleasure Is All Mine

Cher

I felt it shafting, tit to clit.

My eyes drifted open.

I saw shadows. I felt a nice mattress under me.

Heat behind me.

A hard cock pressed to my ass.

“Merry,” I breathed as his thumb and finger at my nipple rolled again.

“This, baby,” he growled, his voice gruff with sleep and the promise of an impending orgasm, “is gonna be fucking.”

My hips twitched.

He shifted his and slid his hard cock through my sleek.

Shit yes.

“Baby,” I whimpered, hardly awake, already there.

“Nightstand, Cher, fast.”

I reached out to the nightstand carefully so as not to lose him as he glided his cock back and forth, his fingers still working my nipple, his other hand shoving under me, going over my belly, down, and in.

I gasped at his touch. Yanking open a drawer, groping blindly, feeling foil, I snatched up a condom and pressed back into Merry.

His hand left my breast.

I aimed the condom at it.

He took it.

I rocked my hips, rubbing him against me.

I felt the rumble in his chest against my back that became audible as I heard foil crinkling.

I lost his cock as he angled his hips away from me.

But I didn’t lose his finger at my clit.

I ground into it.

I got his cock back, gliding, aiming, his lower body shifted down.

“Give me your mouth,” he ordered.

I twisted my neck.

He took my mouth as his cock slammed into me.

With the force of the goodness of him filling me, I cried out, the sound swallowed by Merry as he rode me, I rode him, his finger manipulating my clit, his hand going back to my breast, curling around, thumb rubbing at my nipple.

He plundered my mouth, fucking me hard, working me, until it got too much and I pushed my head into the pillow.

He got my message and stopped kissing me, but his lips didn’t leave mine, breathing, brushing, my harsh pants mingling with his rough breaths.

Then his grunts abraded my lips.

I liked that.

“Baby,” I breathed.

“Yeah,” he growled.

“Harder,” I begged.

“Yeah,” he grunted, powering faster, harder, riding me ruthlessly.

Brilliance.

“Merry,” I gasped.

“Fuck yeah, baby,” he groaned.

I came, rearing in his arms, my lips parted, my breath suspended in my lungs as it exploded in my tits, my clit, and my pussy convulsing, clenching and releasing against his driving cock.

His finger at my clit moved away as he shoved his whole hand in, his fingers separating around his still-thrusting dick, his leg hitching up, taking mine with it, the power of his drives mind-boggling. At the same time, his other hand left my breast and moved up, wrapping around my throat, then up more, around my jaw, holding my head twisted to him so I had his eyes in the dark, our lips whispering against the other’s as he kept fucking me.

“That’s it, Merry,” I panted, still coming, but my climax was moving from me. “That’s it, baby. Fuck me hard. I wanna feel you all day.” I lifted my head and pressed my lips to his. “Want you with me all day, baby. Fuck me that way.”

His hand tightened around my jaw as he grunted, “Beauty,” then lost control, slamming into me again and again and again, his mouth leaving mine, his hand at my jaw shoving up, his face buried in my throat as he groaned.

Finally, he sunk into me, stayed planted, and I felt his uneven breaths coasting along my skin.

The pads of his fingers gave my jaw a gentle squeeze when he lifted his head, pulled mine down, and kept his other hand cupped to our connection as he took my mouth in a deep, wet kiss.

He ended it, dropped his forehead to mine, his eyes open, mine looking through the early morning dark into his, and he muttered, “Mornin’.”

I lay there, Merry buried inside me, my clit, my tits, fuck, my entire body still tingling from him fucking me, and I stared at him.

Mornin’?

I burst out laughing.

While doing it, he released my jaw and I relaxed my head only for Merry to move his lips to my ear.

“For the record, I love makin’ you laugh too.”

Better than an orgasm.

Christ.

Merry.

I stopped laughing.

He kissed my neck below my ear and slid out of me.

I was in no way over suffering the loss of him when he shifted over me, arm at my waist yanking me with him like I was a human-size doll, and I found myself on my feet with Merry beside his bed. Naked.

He let my waist go, grabbed my hand, and I was being dragged across the room.

I opened my mouth.

“Shower,” Merry said before I could start speaking.

I shut my mouth and hit Merry’s bathroom, naked with a naked Merry, doing it grinning.

* * * * *

Forty-five minutes later, in my dress and shoes from the night before, hair wet, I walked up to my house.

Normally, I wouldn’t care what this said about me.

Right then, seeing as Merry had my hand in his and was walking right beside me, I really didn’t care.

We stopped on the stoop, and when I got my keys out of my clutch, Merry took them from me.

He shifted me out of the way of the storm door as he opened it, then he let us in.

The storm whispered then banged.

Merry closed the front door.

Then he took me in his arms and he kissed me.

I was hanging on tight, slightly breathless, when he lifted his mouth from mine.

“Be here to pick you and Ethan up at five thirty,” he said.

“Okay, gorgeous,” I replied.

He smiled at me.

I memorized that smile in a way I was certain never to forget it, not if I lived an eternity.

Then he gave me a squeeze, let me go, and moved to the door.

At the door, he looked back to me.

“Later, sweetheart.”

“Later, Merry.”

He lifted his chin and disappeared when he closed the door behind him.

I stood where he left me, in my dress and shoes of the night before, hair wet.

“I’m not gonna fuck this up,” I told the door.

Right then, right there, after last night and that morning, I was as intent on that as I was on giving my son a decent life.

Absolutely.

I shrugged off my wrap and tossed it to the bucket chair. I pulled my phone out of my clutch and my clutch joined the wrap.

Finally, I bent my head to my phone, pulling up Merry’s text string.

Best night I ever had. Thank you, baby.

I stared at it, thumb hovering over the send button.

“I’m not gonna fuck this up,” I told my phone and my thumb hit the screen.

I let out the huge breath I didn’t know I was holding, walked to the door, opened it, locked the storm, closed the door, locked it, then moved back to my bedroom.

I had my dress and shoes off, new undies and jeans on, when my phone I’d tossed on the bed sounded.

I snatched it up.

I’m glad, brown eyes.

I grinned and my thumb moved.

Best morning too, BTW.

I tossed the phone back to my bed and went to my dresser to choose a tee.

I was tugging it on when my phone sounded again.

I went back to it.

That’s my good girl.

I didn’t grin at that.

I shivered.

After I experienced that hint of beauty, my thumb moved again.

Stop turning me on and go fight crime.

I hit send.

I was making coffee when my phone sounded again.

Worth the wait.

I stared at Merry’s text, my eyes feeling funny—not dry and burning, something else—before I lifted my phone and tapped it against my forehead like I could tap the words of his text into my brain.

I brought it down and my thumb flew.

Later, gorgeous.

Not long after, I got back, Absolutely.

I poured my coffee and after, turned my back to the counter and rested against it.

I stared at my awesome kitchen that was full of personality.

And I took that moment to revel in another of the boons life sent my way—boons that were coming far more frequently these days—this being the fact that I was facing the first day in a very long time, riding a quiet high of anticipation for what was to come next.

The day before had been fucked up by me being worried about what Merry would think about Ethan sending that text and not me.

This day, there was nothing to fuck it up.

Nothing.

It was all good and the forecast was strong it would only get better.

I’d never had that either, so I knew to appreciate it.

And that I did.

* * * * *

I heard the knock on the door, and right on its heels, “Mom! It’s Merry! Can I get it?”

I was sitting on the side of my bed, zipping up my boot. I turned my head toward the clock on my nightstand.

Shit, it was five twenty-five.

Merry was early.

“I’ll get it!” I yelled, hurrying with the zip.

“But it’s just Merry!” Ethan yelled back. “I saw him from the window!”

Ethan wasn’t allowed to open the door unless it was to his gramma.

“Right!” I returned, shoving up from the bed. “Get it.”

I was halfway down our short hall when I heard Ethan’s excited, “Hey, Merry!”

“Hey, man.” I heard Merry say back.

I hit the living room to see them breaking their handshake.

Ethan whirled to me.

“Look, Mom! Merry’s here!” he told me, something he’d already told me.

Suffice it to say, when I’d told my kid we were going out to dinner with Merry that night, he’d been in fits of glee.

In fact, he was so excited, he’d even told me he wanted to cancel plans with Teddy so we could all go to the game together and then get ice cream after.

Therefore, the first time in my life acting selfishly with my kid (but also because I didn’t want to push things too hard too fast for Merry, thinking a quick dinner might be better than forcing him to spend hours with Ethan), I’d told him no.

Due to his exhilaration, I’d expected devastation.

But I’d forgotten in his childlike excitement that my kid was growing up. And apparently, part of that was him understanding that Merry and me needed some time just him and me, especially this early with what we were starting.

So Ethan had relented easily.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t jazzed about dinner.

Obviously, seeing as at that moment, he’d totally forgotten to hide his excitement and act the man of the house around Merry.

“I see,” I muttered, moving in and looking to Merry, who stood in the open front door, watching and waiting for me to get to him.

Also watching and waiting for me to give him clues as to how to play this in front of Ethan.

I’d taught him that too, the hard way, and he’d learned, giving me what I needed.

God, Merry.

I moved close, lifted a hand, touched his chest, and held his gaze as I tipped back my chin.

He moved a hand to my waist and bent in, touching his lips to my cheek.

We broke apart.

“You can be gooey,” Ethan declared, and both Merry and I looked to him. “Mom loves gooey. She’d be gooey all the time if I let her,” he went on to share. “With me, she has to cap it. It’ll be good to have another guy around so she can get more shots at bein’ gooey.”

I stared at my son.

Then I said, “Shut up, kid.”

He looked at me, grinning wickedly. “Forget that, Mom.” His eyes went to Merry. “I’m almost eleven,” he announced. “Eleven years, dude, where it’s been just Mom and Gramma and me. They’re ladies. I’ve had no other guy around. They rock, but I’m a guy with two ladies. I think you get me. Now I’ve got a guy. That’s a big thing for me. So, just sayin’, I’m so totally spilling anything you need.” He jerked his thumb at himself and completed his grand offer. “You wanna know, I’m your man.”

I put my hands on my jeans-clad hips and repeated, “Uh…shut up, kid.”

Ethan kept grinning. “No way. Girls stick together and I’ve had years of that. But guys stick together too. You’re screwed.”

I looked to the ceiling wondering, after dancing around for years in a G-string on a stage with a bunch of losers ogling me, if I had it in me to blush.

I found I didn’t.

I also found Merry’s hand at the small of my back.

I turned my attention to Merry for him to tell me immediately, “He’s not wrong, babe. Guys stick together.”

“See!” Ethan cried.

“How about you two guys go out for dinner and I’ll stay home, knitting or something?” I suggested.

That was when Merry’s hand slid along my back, his fingers curling around my side and pulling me into his side.

“You start knitting, you totally lose cool mom status,” Ethan warned.

“What?” I asked him. “You mean your friends coming over and me using them to try on sweaters with penguins and crap on the front won’t go over good?”

Ethan made a face.

Merry emitted a chuckle.

Vaguely, I heard a car door slam but felt Merry’s movements, so I looked from my kid to him to see him looking over his shoulder through the storm door to see what had made that sound.

I also felt his body instantly get tight beside mine.

At his reaction, I looked beyond him and saw Peggy’s minivan at the curb behind Merry’s Excursion, Peggy clearly visible in the passenger seat and Trent was making his way around the hood.

Shit, I’d forgotten he’d said he was going to be here Friday at five thirty to pick up Ethan.

Of course, I’d told him Ethan wouldn’t be here so he shouldn’t bother.

But now Ethan was here, so was I, and so was Merry.

Damn.

Merry started to disengage from me as the room started to get heavy with his pissed off, badass vibe.

Shit and damn.

“Ethan, go to your room,” I ordered swiftly.

“What’s Dad doin’ here?” he asked.

I looked to my son to see him staring confused out the storm door.

“Ethan, kid, go to your room. Please.”

“I told him I didn’t wanna come this weekend.” His voice was pitching higher, almost whiny in a way I never heard anymore unless he was really tired or not feeling good.

He really didn’t want to be with his dad.

And he really wanted to spend time with Merry and me.

“Ethan—”

“Man,” Merry spoke over me, “help your mom out by doin’ what she says, yeah?”

Ethan’s eyes jerked to Merry, he nodded, then looked at me before he dashed toward the hall.

Another boon. Ethan looked up to Merry, so when Merry spoke, he didn’t talk back.

On this thought, I heard the storm door let out its opening whisper and I looked that way to see Merry stalking out of it.