Page 83 of Those Two Words

An hour later, we’re sitting on my sofa together, after everyone has finally left.

Lottie got a bit upset about leaving—I think the sugar high was ending—because she wanted to take all her gifts to my mom’s, but I knew they’d get lost or damaged. To keep the peace, I said she could take one and when she picked her new puzzle, I didn’t miss the joy on Jo’s face. Booth, on the other hand, was devastated she didn’t pick the Nerf gun he bought her—the same gun I now have hidden in my room.

It took some effort to kick my brothers out, who took their sweet ass time leaving. Booth said he wanted to help “set the mood,” and Graham started talking about safe sex, reminding me it’s too soon for oopsie baby number two. They finished tidying up, and then I all but shoved them out of the door.

And now we’re alone at last.

Jo’s feet are in my lap as we share a bottle of wine and slice of birthday cake. The Office is playing in the background, but we haven’t been paying much attention to the TV. We’re doing something we’ve never done before—talking about our lives during our time apart. She tells me about the job she had in Tennessee and all the different bars she went to see Harriet perform in. She asks what Lottie was like as a baby and anything she missed about my siblings. The sting I expect to feel hearing about her life without me can’t be found, and I don’t see the same sadness in her eyes when I talk about Lottie as a baby.

I asked her about her dad, thinking back to my mom’s words earlier, but she shrugged it off and changed the subject.I’ll let it rest for now, but I hope she’ll speak about it later.

She’s sprawled out across from me, with a blanket draped over her legs, now in a new dress, thanks to the change of clothes she brought with her. The short dress that’s decorated with little white flowers is definitely an improvement, because now her legs are on display. I’m a simple man. Her hair is tied up and the glowing heat from the fire has turned her cheeks a rosy color. It’s mostly embers now, but she begged for a cozy night in front of the fire, so that’s what she got.

“Thanks for inviting me today,” she says, and a small moan escapes her as I press down on the arch of her foot. That little noise does nothing to help the hard-on I’ve been trying to suppress for the last hour. I’m still in my clothes from the party—sans crown—and I can’t wait to get out of this dress shirt. And hopefully get Johanna out of that little dress. I’m grateful she’s no longer in the ballgown, because it was getting weird every time one of my brothers caught me checking her out. Even Dex picked up on it, asking me if it was even Lottie’s idea to have a princess-themed party.

“I’m glad you came, though it was Lottie who invited you. My mom texted before and said she’s already started the puzzle and put up a fight when she had to go to sleep. Thanks for that.” Sarcasm laces my tone.

“Oh god, she’s going to become obsessed like us.” She chuckles.

“Let’s hope she’s not like you and loses the pieces.”

“That puzzle still haunts me to this day. Nine days it took for me to finish that, Patrick. Nine. Days. And it came with one piece missing. I was ready to write a strongly worded letter to the manufacturer.” She’s so cute when she gets angry, her nose crinkles and her arms fly around as she continues to express her outrage over the mysterious missing puzzle piece. When she continues to rant, I can’t suppress my laughter for much longer.

She tries to pull her feet away, but I tighten my hold.

“It’s not funny, and you teased me about it for weeks. You even gave my dad the idea about hanging the dumb thing up in the hallway. It’s like you…”

Her eyes widen, and her head turns to look at me like she’s got a leading role in The Exorcist.

“You,” she whispers and raises a pointed finger at me. “And you can’t plead the fifth this time.”

“I want to speak to my lawyer!” I shout as she throws herself at me. Her hands aim for my throat, murder shining in her eyes.

“I can’t believe you! What did you do with it?” she cries. I trap her wrists in one hand to stop her attempt at murdering me, and with one quick buck of my hips, I flip us over until she’s lying beneath me. My hand locks her wrists together so they’re high above her head.

I didn’t think this through, because my cock is now nestled between her thighs and her breasts are pushed upward toward me, giving me the perfect view down her dress.

“I stole it when you weren’t looking, and I must have lost it. I’m sorry.” I try to keep my face straight, hoping she doesn’t see through the lie. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t keep it from you any longer. I’ve been carrying that guilt around for almost two decades.”

“I hate you.” She pouts.

“Liar.” The humor in my tone is gone and my voice comes out all thick now. I trace the bridge of her nose with the tip of mine, leaving kisses in my path. “Do you know how I know?”

She shakes her head.

“Because. If I reached between your legs right now, I’d find your pussy dripping wet.” I pepper kisses across her jaw and neck, sucking the pulse point below her ear. My mouth moves lower, and I lick a line across her delicate collarbone, which has her writhing and moaning beneath me.

As much as I want to test my theory, I promised myself when I do this again, it would be somewhere I can worship her body properly.

I let go of her hands and lift myself off her. She looks up at me in a lust-filled daze. Without a word, I stand, turn off the TV, and make sure the fire is completely out.

When I return to where she’s still lying on the sofa, chest rising and falling in quick succession, I reach down, take her hand, and pull her up until she’s standing.

“C’mon, love. Let me take you to bed.”

thirty-four

JOHANNA

---