Page 44 of Teasing a King

Mya’s cheeks grow a deeper shade of red. It’s adorable, really. I hope I can find more ways to make it happen.

“It’s just something Hope said,” she mutters, waving a hand. “It’s not important.”

I feel a flash of anger. Had Hope said something to upset Mya? Had she argued against us being together? I’ve always liked Hope. Hell, I even helped her and Wyatt when they had a misunderstanding in the beginning of their relationship. Now she’s trying to sabotage this thing between me and Mya? I’m all for protecting your friends, but this is ridiculous.

“Did she tell you it was a bad idea?” I ask, keeping my voice carefully neutral. “Being with me, I mean.”

“No,” Mya says quickly, shaking her head. “Nothing like that, I swear. The opposite, actually. She’s happy we’re together. Believe it or not, she’s been pushing me to act on my attraction to you for weeks now.” She looks away from my gaze and sighs. “She was teasing me,” she mutters.

I make a mental note to thank my future sister-in-law for being in my corner. “Teasing you, how?” I ask.

I watch as she steels herself and meets my gaze. “Because I walked in on her and your brother in the kitchen one morning. They seemed to be enjoying themselves.”

My brows go up and I let out a low whistle. “Did you see my brother naked?”

Mya swats at me as I laugh. “No,” she says, laughing. “But if I’d shown up a few minutes later, I might have.”

“You blocked the morning sex?” I wince. “Not cool.”

Her face reddens further, and her mouth drops open. “I didn’t do it on purpose!” She huffs out an exasperated sigh. “But I did tease her about it a little. So, she was getting payback this morning on the phone when I told her we were about to have breakfast.”

I’m even more curious now. “So, what did she say?”

“If you must know,” Mya says, indignant. “She asked if I was havingsausagewith my breakfast.”

It takes me a second to understand what she means. When I do, I burst into a fit of laughter. After a few seconds, Mya joins me. I can’t imagine my sweet future sister-in-law saying such lewd things, but even I know that women can be just as crude as men. Sometimes more. Still, it’s hilarious that Mya got so embarrassed by her friend’s teasing.

When I finally stop laughing enough to form words, I lean close to Mya and whisper, “Do you want some sausage with your breakfast?” I waggle my eyebrows for emphasis and we both start laughing again.

“I hate you,” Mya mutters.

“No, you don’t,” I say, still grinning. “You find me handsome and charming. And you love my sausage.”

She goes back to eating her pancakes. “I regret telling you anything.”

We keep up the banter while we eat, with me teasing Mya and her pretending to be offended. I try to wash the dishes since Mya cooked, but she insists on helping regardless of my protests. I don’t really mind though. Anything to keep her near me. We finish putting the crib together, then spend the rest of the day lazing around the house, laughing, talking and teasing one another. We don’t talk about the future or what we are now that we’re no longer platonic. But when night falls and it’s time to go to bed, Mya follows me into my bedroom without comment. It feels like the most natural thing in the world to share a bed with her. It feels right. Like it’s what we should have been doing all along.

Chapter Eighteen

Van

It’s late when I get home from Mack’s. The tourist season is in full swing, and the place had been packed all night. I’d stayed later than I’d planned to help close up at the end of the night. I didn’t have to, I know. But my employees had worked just as hard as me and the work goes faster with extra hands. So, now I’m trying to be extra quiet as I enter the house, not wanting to wake Mya. She’s been more tired lately, and I know it’s because of the baby. She’s taken to having a nap when she knows I’m going to work the evening shift just so she’ll have enough energy to stay up until I get home. I’ve told her she doesn’t need to wait up for me, but she’s insistent. Secretly though, I love it.

My favorite part of the day is coming home to Mya and talking about our day. Even if nothing eventful happened, it’s nice just to hear her telling me all the little mundane things. The truth is, I love to hear her talk. I like to watch her face grow animated when she tells a story. I love the way her eyes light up when she laughs. I wonder if I’m falling too far, too fast. But if I am, I can’t find it in me to care. It’s only been two weeks since things between us shifted from friends to whatever this is now, but I’m happy. Ridiculously, deliriously happy. I can’t find anything wrong with that. A tiny voice in my head wonders what will happen if Mya decides she doesn’t feel the same. What if she decides to end things? Pain slices through me at the thought, so I banish it. Things are good right now. There’s no reason to think that will change. I need to enjoy this time with Mya and stop waiting for something bad to happen.

I make my way through the house to make sure the doors are locked. It’s a habit that I’ve had since moving in. Oak Hill isn’t a hotbed of criminal activity, but it makes me feel safer. Especially with Mya living here now. As I get closer to the kitchen, I hear the distinct sound of typing and smile. Mya must be up late working on her blog. When I walk into the kitchen, I see Mya seated at the table, her reading glasses perched on her nose, lost in concentration as she types away on her laptop. Something inside me catches at the sight of her and I stop to stare at her.

She’s dressed in one of my shirts, her legs bare. Her hair is piled in a messy bun on her head, a few tendrils escaping to curl at her neck. I want to brush those wisps of hair aside and put my lips there, trailing soft kisses on her skin. Before I can get too lost in my imaginings, Mya looks over and spots me standing in the doorway. Her face breaks into a smile.

“You’re home.” I can hear the happiness in her tone with just those two words. She’s genuinely happy to see me. I’m surprised by how quickly I’ve gotten used to having Mya here when I come home from work. Surprised by how happy it makes me. It wasn’t so long ago that I’d come home to an empty house. I’d thought myself content with that. Until now. Until Mya. Now, I can’t imagine not having her here.

I smile. “Yeah. Just now.”

She looks confused. “What are you doing standing there in the doorway?”

I push myself off from where I’d been leaning against the doorjamb and walk toward her. “I was watching you work,” I say. “You look adorable.”

Mya rolls her eyes and takes off her glasses, setting them on the table. “I look like a mess, you mean.”

---