His Father

He left me in the care of Devon because Maddox still hasn’t spoken to either or us and Sargent is worried about my safety. I think the knife-wielding maniac was probably just somebody trying to break in to loot the place, I doubt he’ll be back.

“Didn’t you?”

I shrug. “Nah, Devon kept me occupied.”

“What?” he growls and Devon gives me a look as if to say, “Really?”

I giggle and leap out of the way when Sargent tries to grab me. “I’m working!”

He starts to tickle me and I hate it but also love it. Especially when we fall onto the sand and he kisses me again. His lips and tongue tease mine in a way only he knows how. I hum with appreciation until I remember where I am and what I’m supposed to be doing.

“I’m working,” I tell him again, breathlessly, and he touches my cheek with sandy fingers. “I missed you too.”

“She did, she’s been whining nonstop since you left,” Devon chuckles and then puts on a squeaky voice as he says, “What time is it? Is the day over yet? Has he called you? It’s been ten minutes since I spoke to him… blah blah…”

I throw a piece of seaweed at him and stick out my tongue when Sargent finally lets me up.

I can’t believe he’s back. I can’t believe how epic it feels that he’s back.

“Go on.” Devon grins, winking at me. “You’re finished for the day. This asshole is taking you surfing.”

“Really?” I squeal and throw myself at Devon next. I hug him, covering him in sand and then take the board from the ground. “Come on, old man,” I jest at Sargent. “Race you to the line.”

“Old man?” He feigns offense. “I’m not the one who always falls asleep first.”

“That’s me passing out because you’re smothering me with your humongous pecks.” I laugh, panting as I take off for the ocean.

He follows, cussing me out as we go. We clip our boards to our ankles and dive into the salty, cold, blue sea.

It feels incredible, I wish I’d done this sooner.

We paddle out, racing and ducking under steady waves, he overtakes me but I knew he would and we share a smile when we resurface.

He’s so handsome. I’ve never seen a man more mesmerizingly beautiful. The sun hits his wet profile just right and I wish I had a camera.

We wait, straddling our boards, in the still ocean and I feel the pull of the current beneath my feet. The water rises and we both take off, racing to the edge where we go our separate ways.

He wipes out, not quite making the jump which makes me laugh and lose my balance as I make mine. I fall in sideways and my nose fills with water but I quickly resurface and swim back.

“I beat you already,” I shout at Sargent as he swims my way and when he makes it to me, he shoves me off my board, laughing at the top of his lungs. It’s okay though because I steal the next wave.

At lunchtime we eat a fruit salad together in his bed because we’re both exhausted. It’s nice and cozy and it’s the first time we’ve ever just lay together without talking. I remember Devon saying to me just the other night that it’s when you get the moments of quiet together that you enter the next stage of your relationship. I’m not sure how true that is but I’m probably going to ruin it.

“I have to tell you something,” I say softly, ready to spill my darkest confession to a man who consumes nearly every thought. “It’s important and it might change your view of me.”

He looks down at me, his eyes nervous but relaxed. “Please don’t tell me you fucked Devon.”

“What?” I squawk and sit back on my ankles. He shuffles up the bed until his back is against the headboard. “Are you kidding?”

“Sorry, stupid question,” he admits, sliding his hand up my thigh.

I scowl at him, pissed off that he’d even ask me such a thing.

“But, it’s okay if you did,” he carries on and my already nervous heart plummets.

“It’s okay if I did?”

He eyes me, scanning me for the truth, as though I’m withholding it from him. At this point I believe the only person holding back is him. “I’d rather know, before I find out from him.”

The thought that he might truly mistrust me so much is a nauseating one. The complexity of my feelings for him are too much to bear at this juncture. I’m about to tell him to shove his mistrust up his arse when we hear the door downstairs open and slam shut, all thoughts of conversation leave us both and we race to see who it is.

It can only be one person.

“MADDOX!” I yell, racing down the stairs, past the kitchen and colliding with his chest before he can enter the hall that leads to his room and mine. My arms go around his waist and I hold tight. I daren’t let him go because he might not come back again. “You haven’t called.”