Page 85 of Gifts

Asa plants a kiss on the top of Saylor’s head, and I swear, my insides twist some more. I push it away like I have for the last week—like I’m having to do more often as the days go by.

I know I’m being selfish, allowing Asa and his kids to stay here. Deep down, I know I’m doing it because I like them here. I like how my house feels less big and massive as it did with just the three of us. Even though he insists on staying, I know I could make him leave if I wanted to.

I don’t want him to.

I want him here. And that’s what’s twisting inside me, anchoring itself down deep where I know it’s going to be hard to dislodge when I need to. It’s going to be painful and I’m tired of feeling pain.

When I finally get the puppy settled, I make my way upstairs and lean on the door jamb to Knox’s room. Asa is settling Saylor on the floor pallet she never cleans up. Banner and Bella are settled at her feet for the night and after Asa tucks her in, he moves to Knox to pry his iPad out of his sleeping hands. He doesn’t seem surprised to see me as he stands between my sleeping children and crosses his arms.

I lean my head against the door jamb and whisper, “What?”

He gives his head two shakes. “You ever going to get on board with the rest of us?”

I feel my heart clench but try not to let it show. He’s been looking at me in an odd way lately. I don’t know what it means, but I don’t like it because he’s seeing way more than I want him to. Hell, more than I want anyone to. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about, baby. You’re here,” he motions around the room between us and my sleeping kids, “but you’re not.”

“I am,” I whisper, almost desperately. I don’t know if I’m trying to convince him or myself, because I want to be here, a part of whatever this is. So much. “I’ve allowed you to work your way into my life.” I gesture to my kids. “And more importantly, theirs. I’d never allow that if I wasn’t on board.”

I look away, go to kiss my kids and pet the dogs one last time for the day. When I brush past him to get to Knox, he runs a hand down my arm and grasps my hand. After I kiss my son’s dark-haired head, I find myself being pulled from the bedroom. Asa silently shuts their door and I find myself in his arms with his lips on mine.

He presses me into the wall to intensify his kiss. Moving his lips on mine like he’s trying to prove something, claim me, or who the hell knows, maybe try to convince himself that I’m on board. Because seriously, if I could be all-in, it would make everything much easier on me. Just like with my therapist, I hate answering questions.

“Baby,” he murmurs against my lips. “I want to believe you, but I can tell you’re full of shit.”

Oh. Well, so much for that.

When he’s about to say something else, his phone beeps from his back pocket. Saved by the bell.

Frustrated, his eyes close and I feel his breath tickle my face. He presses one more kiss to my lips before saying, “That’s Crew. I need to check it.”

Thankful for the reprieve, I step around him and go to my room to get ready for bed. When he appears in the mirror behind me, he’s typing into his phone with a scowl.

“What’s that about?” I ask.

“An update about the shooting. An update with not much more information than I had before. It’s frustrating.” He tosses his phone on the counter and tags my hand. When I’m pulled across my bathroom, Asa is heading straight for the shower. He reaches in and flips on the water before grabbing the hem of my shirt. “It’s nothing I want to think about. Right now, I only want to think about you.”

I’m all for that, especially if it means he’ll quit demanding why I’m not all here, because I honestly don’t have an answer.

Once our clothes are jumbled in a pile on my bathroom floor, I get to take him in bare from head to toe. It’s been a week since we’ve officially been together and I wonder if I’ll ever get used to him. Unlike me, who gets all my exercise through home improvement projects and farm animal chores, I’ve learned Asa works out rigorously—weights, a rowing machine, and boxing. He told me he hates to run, which I can’t blame him there. I hate running, too, but his body is sculpted, lean, and I could look at it all day.

His cock is standing at attention, and like the magnet it seems to be every time it comes out to play, I reach for it, hearing him groan, “Fuck, baby. You like my cock.”

I look up to his heated eyes and he pulls me into the shower. The water saturates us, washing everything away. And just like he always manages to do when we’re like this, he makes me forget. I get to put everything out of my head—money, my fatherless children, my job, even my aging donkey. My head clears and I can focus on Asa.

On us.

He sits on the marble bench and pulls me to stand between his legs. Grabbing my ass in his big hands, he pulls me to him and looks up at me. “This is how I want you all the time.”

I run my fingers through his wet hair. “I can’t be naked all the time, Asa.”

He squeezes my ass, almost to the point of being painful, and frowns. “You know what I mean. I see you and I can see the difference.”

He looks down and his tongue comes out to flick my nipple before pulling it into his mouth. His hands start to roam, drifting over my skin along with the water. I hold him to me when one of his hands cups me and I have no words.

“Tell me what the difference is,” he continues and looks up, holding me close. “If I could fuck you twenty-four-seven, I would, but I can’t. Tell me what you need so you’ll quit holding back.”

Looking into his hazel eyes, I say nothing since I don’t know myself. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and climb onto his lap. Feeling his hard cock rubbing my clit, I get as close as possible and kiss him. He holds me tight, grinding me against him, making me wet and even warmer than the hot water.

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