Page 51 of Raised On It

CHAPTER 16

Mason

The whirring of activity in the kitchen stirs me awake, my body stretching along with the smile spreading across my face. I’m used to finding myself alone in my bed each morning, but I was so looking forward to waking up in Miles’ arms.

Clank…clank…clank.

Tap…tap…tap.

Ah, the sounds of Sweet Lou’s dog tag clanking against his collar while his toenails tap on the hardwood floors. Miles may not be in my bed, but both of the boys are still here. I can’t think of a better way to wake up. Well, Miles on the pillow next to me wouldn’t be so bad either.

Stretching my arms above my head, I arch my back on a lazy yawn when the rich smell of fresh coffee brewing hits my senses. As if the morning wasn’t looking bright already, knowing Milesis the kitchen making himself at home has my smile growing to the point of painful.

He didn’t leave.

He also didn’t “sleep” with me.

Eastlyn isn’t forever, but for right now, it’s pretty great.

I’m happy.

Because of him.

I can think of one thing that would make me a bit happier, but he did give plenty.

Flashes of last night zip through my head like a kaleidoscope of pleasure.

The memory of his gentle caresses mixed with flicks of his tongue and everything else he did with his hands led to more pleasure than I can ever remember having in one night.

I’m afraid I’m going to get used to the way he makes me feel, and then I’ll be back to sleeping alone in a matter of weeks.

But for now, I’m here, in Eastlyn, and I deserve to feel good.

To be happy.

Enough lying around. He stayed over, and he’s apparently made coffee, and I do believe I smell bacon sizzling on the stove. That bacon has to be one of two reasons the toenails of a certain German shepherd are tap-dancing on the wood floors in the kitchen. That and the presence of his daddy. Last night, he made me want to do a little dance or two too.

I throw on my robe and tiptoe to the bathroom, praying I get there to brush my teeth and clean up before I say good morning.

When I reach the safety of the bathroom, I quickly pile my hair on top of my head in a messy bun that doesn’t look much better than the mess that was hanging down my back, but it’s my go-to, and I might as well keep it real. I can barely brush my teeth through the smile looking back at me in the mirror.

Trying to sneak into the kitchen is next to impossible with Lou around. He’s waiting for me in the hallway when I step outof the bathroom, and before I’ve even rounded the corner to the kitchen, Miles is greeting me.

“Morning, babe!” he yells from the stove.

God, I love when he calls me that.

Hi, my name is Mason, I’m thirty-three years old and still feel like a teenager when the guy I’m crushing on calls me babe.

“Morning. You’re up early.”

And you don’t have a shirt on.

More flashes of last night bounce around my head, and my fingers tingle remembering the feel of his skin on my fingertips after touching every inch of him I could reach last night.

“Yeah, sorry about that. It’s one of the many drawbacks of having sleepovers with a farmer. Or someone who grew up in the life anyway.” He smiles that charming smile of his and flips a sizzling piece of bacon in the pan.

“As long as I get the sleepovers, I’m pretty sure I can handle the early mornings.”

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