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Probably.
I shouldn’t slap labels around. There’s nothing wrong with the life of a wandering, free spirit. Obviously my former mother-in-law is a good, caring woman even with all her free-spirited philosophies.I guess it really was just Lilian’s selfishness at the heart of our problems.
And I don’t care what happened between me and her mom. Stella’s still the best thing to ever happen to me.
After Stella’s finished with her breakfast, I pour coffee number three of the morning into my travel mug. I walk my daughter out to the car.
“Bye, Gaga!” Stella waves as she climbs into the backseat.
“Have fun, pumpkin,” I hear Gen call back from the doorway of her camper.
When I make eye contact with her, she gives me a worried look. I glance away. “I’m fine. I’m fine,” I mumble to myself.
But in all reality, my mind is still a foggy mess. And as I absentmindedly jimmy and wiggle the door handle, I upend my travel mug and end up spilling hot brown liquid all over my white T-shirt.
“Goddammit!” I hiss and Stella gasps in concern from where she’s climbed into her car seat.
“Daddy!” She scrambles over to the window, pressing her face to the glass.
I hear footsteps stomping up behind me and then Genevieve is standing at my side, hand outstretched.
“I’ve got this covered,” I say dismissively, swiping at the ruined fabric of my shirt with my palm.
Gen just jerks her hand in my direction. “Keys, Nolan.”
“Everything’s under control, Gen. I’ve just got to change my shir—”
“Nolan Brighton. You need rest today. You are in no condition to be driving my grand-baby around town in the state you’re in. Take some time for yourself. I’ve got this covered.”
I glare at her. But she doesn’t back down. She means business.
“Fine,” I say with a grumble, dropping the keys into my ex-mother-in-law’s palm.
God. I hate counting on anyone for help.
My head ducks into the back of the car, checking Stella’s seatbelt, kissing her goodbye and telling her to kick butt at today’s lesson.She presses her little hand to my cheek and promises that she will.
I watch Genevieve pull out of the yard. Now that Stella’s gone, I head back inside so I can get my shit together.
I step into my en-suite bathroom and strip out of my coffee-soaked clothes. I stand under the hot spray of the shower and my mind wanders again. To Inez. To last night.
I don’t think I’ll ever be the goddamn same after last night.
My soapy hand finds my erection, slipping up and down the length as I relive that hot-as-fire kiss we shared. The way she touched me. The way she tasted. The sounds she made.
She was drunk. You took advantage of that. Have some fucking dignity, you dipshit.
Even still, the truth is, when I kissed Inez, I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to unbutton her jeans, pull them down around her ankles and slip my hand between her thighs to find out if she was wet for me. I wanted to bend her over the kitchen sink and plunge my cock inside her to experience her slippery pussy squeezing down on me.
I wanted to feel her. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to hear her panting my name as I filled her so full of my release until the liquid came spilling down her thighs.
That’s what I wanted to do. So yeah, I definitely didn’t want to stop kissing her.
But I’m delusional to think that Inez would ever want a guy like me.
Shame grips my throat like a fist as I drop my forehead to the wet shower tile, muttering Inez’s name as I spray my release.
A moment later when I step out of the shower, I leave my delusional fantasy world behind me.
