Page 134 of Tempt Her

“I’ve never seen him like this.” Mateo grins, muttering while we watch them through the sliding glass doors, talking on the porch. “He’s so damn happy. I think she’shisalpha.”

I try to chuckle at his joke, watching the sweet sight too. But I feel it.

How I’m witnessing one daughter get her father back while I have to let mine go soon.

I crawl up from the sofa. “I’m gonna go visit Dad.”

Mateo reaches for my hand. “Want some company?”

Once Gentry was arrested and I hid here, we moved my dad into the special house Ford had built. Though I’d resisted him before, it was the smartest thing. And it wound up being the greatest blessing.

I see my dad every morning before I leave and every night when I get home.

A nurse lives with Dad full-time. During the weekdays, it’s Ms. Carol. I tripled her salary, and she loves working here, spending the days in the fancy modern house with big windows instead of a dark, sterile facility. And once Dad’s gone, I’m writing a big check with her name on it.

Mateo holds my hand as we stroll down the long driveway, letting the chirping crickets and katydids fill the silence.

Mateo visits Dad, too. He likes reading to him. Ford helps Ms. Carol give him baths, lifting him so she doesn’t have to. And I keep baking muffins, smiling at the dawn rising over the marsh as I make this walk every morning.

My favorite thing?

How my Dad has a floor-to-ceiling wall of windows with no curtains now. He gets to gaze over his favorite view of the vast marsh with tall grasses swaying in the breeze while birds dive into sparkling currents… and sometimes… it makes him smile.

“Priscilla,” Dad greets me when we enter his bedroom. Tonight, he’s lucid. “Who’s this?” he asks about Mateo.

I always give him the same answer, “My best student.”

Dad always likes that answer. He likes thinking Ford is Ms. Carol’s son, too.

I sit beside him on the bed, rubbing his ankle as I ask, “Can we read to you tonight?”

He pats my hand, and that’s his answer.

Mateo settles into the rocking chair beside the bed and opens his worn journal with poems he’s copied. He reads aloud one he found recently…

“The depth of a father’s love shows in his daughter’s eyes.

What’s known is what’s shown from sunset to sunrise.”1

Mateo keeps reading, and I don’t fight my tears anymore. They’re happy ones. This is how my dad will spend his final days, safe and surrounded by love, staring out the window until my mom finally comes for him.

It has me holding Mateo’s hand so tightly as we walk back to his house. Hannah is staying the night at Ford’s, and they need a chance to bond.

And I need my nights with Mateo too. We usually take a long bath together, followed by an hour when he uses his favorite massage oil, rubbing me in all the right places until I’m opening for him everywhere.

When Ford and I have our nights together, he likes cooking for me. Then he likes bending me over the dining room table while he reminds me who’s boss.

Sometimes I stay at Luke’s and nestle in his bed for some “me” time while Ford and Mateo enjoy a night together.

But when the three of us are together? It’s either so intense, we can’t speak, or so relaxing, we don’t need to, or it’s so dirty with how we taunt each other.

I swear Ford’s getting more Dom, and Mateo’s getting even kinkier, and I don’t know who I am anymore.

And I’m fucking thrilled about it.

“Have the massage oils come in yet?” Mateo asks, leading me by the hand up his front porch steps. Shop-talk is usual for us, and thankfully, it’s the kind that turns us on.

“They should be in a few days.” I follow him inside. His tiny home is similar to Luke’s, with more books everywhere. “But I’m warning you. We have to quality-control test each kind before we sell it.”

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