Then I cautiously moved away, slid out of bed and pulled the covers back over Billie. As I straightened, Mitch moved and I froze. I watched with bated breath as he rolled to his side, his arm curling around Billie but neither woke. Both of their eyes stayed closed and Billie pressed her cheek to the area under his pectorals.
I stared because Mitch was beautiful in his sleep. But he was indescribably beautiful being a good, kind man who was sleeping wrapped protectively around a sleeping six year old girl. A girl who had a sunny disposition (when she wasn’t barfing or feeling in a shitty mood as a precursor to said barfing) but who also had a shitheel of a Dad whose criminal activities and weaknesses made her unsafe and could have got her hurt.
My beautiful, Teflon-coated cousin had never had this and would never have it with Bill in her life. Not when she had a nightmare and needed to feel safe. Not when she was sick and needed comfort.
Not ever.
Now she had it.
What met my eyes was the stuff posters were made of but knowing the two beings filling my vision, I knew that what met my eyes were what dreams were made of.
How, on God’s green earth, did my life shift so this vision could meet my eyes?
I had no answer for that and I had no time to come up with an answer. I decided instantly Billie was not going to school that day which meant it was good it was my day off. But Billy had to get to school and I had to get him there.
Silently I moved around the bed, went to the chair and grabbed Mitch’s flannel shirt that I’d tossed there yesterday morning.
I shrugged it on and left the room. Closing the door quietly behind me, I hustled down the hall to the kitchen at the same time I re-secured the ponytail that I’d slept in. Once I hit the kitchen, I searched the cupboards and started a pot of coffee then went back down the hall to the bedroom where the kids were sleeping. I walked in and approached the air mattress on the floor where Billy was.
I did a knees-closed squat, gently shook his shoulder, he opened his eyes and looked at me groggily.
“Time for your shower, buddy,” I whispered.
“’Kay, Auntie Mara,” he whispered back without hesitation, got out of bed wearing one of the new pairs of PJs I bought him, loose shorts and a loose tee and he shuffled out of the room to the bathroom.
I decided to get a cup of coffee while he had a shower. I’d go to Mitch’s room and get my stuff to do my business in the hall bathroom after Billy was done so I could have a shower prior to taking Billy to school and Mitch could use his to get ready for his day.
I was standing in front of the coffeepot pouring coffee into a mug with a splash of milk at the bottom; I shoved the coffeepot back into the coffeemaker and set the mug down in order to grab a spoon when it happened.
Two strong arms closed around me, one at my ribs, one at my chest. My body went statue-still but my head tipped down and I saw strong, bare forearms just as I felt lips at my neck.
“Mornin’, baby,” Mitch whispered there and a trill raced up my spine as I experienced a dream come true.
Mitch wrapping his arms around me and whispering a really good “mornin’” to me.
I liked that.
No, I loved that.
And I wanted it every morning for forever.
“Mitch,” I whispered back, unable to say anything else.
His arms gave me a squeeze and his lips didn’t move from the skin at my neck when he asked, “You sleep okay?”
“Uh…” I answered, my vision blurry, my body still solid, my mind awhirl.
Apparently that was answer enough for Mitch because his lips moved from my neck to my ear where he murmured, “I slept fuckin’ great.”
“Um…” I muttered.
“You feel good, curled into me, warm and soft.”
Oh God.
“Uh…”
His arms squeezed. “Though, you’d probably feel better, there wasn’t a six year old between us.”
Oh God!
“Um…”
“Billie’s fever broke,” he informed me.
“Um…yeah,” I mumbled. “I checked before I got up.”
“Mm,” he murmured in my ear causing another, stronger trill to go up my spine. So strong, my body trembled with it. I got another arm squeeze then Mitch’s arms went away but not a second later his hands were at my hips. I felt his heat leave my back but only so he could turn me then his heat was at my front and his arms wrapped around me again, one low at my back, one high at my shoulder blades.
I looked into the depths of his soulful eyes and instantly got lost.
“You should have woke me,” he whispered, his face so close I felt his words on my lips.
“Why?” I whispered back, still lost in his eyes (and his heat and his strong arms wrapped around me).
“Because you left me in bed with a six year old,” he replied, this was said softly, gently and not with any accusation.
“So?”
“Baby, she isn’t my kid.”
“She likes you.”
“She still isn’t my kid. You there, it’s cool. Me alone in bed with Billie, not so much.”
Crap.
Okay, there it was. I was a dork thinking they looked like a poster. I’d screwed up, as usual, and made Mitch feel uncomfortable.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
His arms tightened, the one at my shoulder blades shifted up and his fingers sifted into my ponytail.
“It’s okay,” he whispered back and I was sliding back into getting lost in his eyes even though his lids were lowering at the same time his head was lowering and his lips were a breath away from mine.
“Mitch,” I called but my lips moved against his lips. Then my lips couldn’t move at all because his lips were on mine. His hand was cupping the back of my head to tilt it to one side, his slanted the other way and his tongue traced the crease of my lips until those lips opened and his tongue swept inside.
Oh God.
There it was again.
Oh God!
He tasted good, he felt good and he kissed great.
My hands slid up his back and my fingers dug in at his lats as he kissed me and, he tasted so good, I kissed him right back.
Finally, Mitch’s lips left mine, trailed down my cheek to my ear where he growled just as his arms squeezed, “Christ, I love your mouth.”
There I was again, pressed tight to Mitch, breathing hard, wrapped in his arms.
How did this keep happening?
“Mitch –” I started.
His head came up, his eyes locked on mine and he interrupted me, “When’s your next day off?”
I blinked. “What?”
His arm low at my hips tightened further. “Your next day off, sweetheart.”
“Um…today,” I answered.
He grinned then said softly, “I know, honey. When’s your next day off?”
“Uh…Friday.”
“Thursday night, we’re gettin’ a babysitter.”
I blinked at his intimate words, words said by a Dad to a Mom, a husband to a wife, more words I liked and repeated, “What?”
“A babysitter.”
“Why?”
“’Cause Thursday night I’m takin’ you out. I’m feedin’ you. I’m gettin’ you intoxicated. Then I’m bringin’ you home and then I’m doin’ other things to you. Things I’m gonna keep doin’ that’ll take me deep into Friday and I don’t want the kids interrupting me while I do them.”
My toes curled, my knees wobbled and my nipples started tingling.
Oh boy.
I struggled to find my way back to Mara World which was safer and far more sane and started, “I don’t –”
I stopped speaking when I heard the door to the hall bathroom open. Billy was out of the shower.
Mitch’s head went back another two inches and turned slightly before he murmured, “Kids interrupting.”
My hands moved so they were pressed against his chest, not a good thing to do as all my fingers encountered on their journey was warm, hard, sleek skin.