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After saying goodbye to Amelia’s first-day cheer squad, Zeph and I strolled hand in hand back to the car. I hugged his arm, humming beneath my breath.
He gazed down at me, that adoration he always had for me shining in his eyes. “Happy?”
“Mmm-hmm. Very. I love knowing she’s at the very best school. And from that she’ll have opportunities I never had. We’re breaking the cycle. That’s important to me.” I squeezed his biceps affectionately. “I love you took the day off to be here for it.”
Zeph had picked up a carpentry job with a local builder in desperate need of anyone willing to swing a hammer. I’d agonized over him taking a job like that, worried he was just doing it because we needed a paycheck to pay the rent on our new house. But to my surprise, the hard work suited him. He came home smiling each afternoon, talking of big plans to build houses for the homeless one day when he’d learned the trade. With him home at night, we’d been able to let Peggy go to another family who needed her services. The money I saved on her wages meant there was funds for things like bills and new clothes and even a weekend trip away.
Zeph dropped a kiss on my head. “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world. But do we have plans for the next few hours?”
I let go of him and got into the passenger seat, pulling on my seat belt. “Nope. No plans. We are free as a bird until school pickup time and dinner at the club.”
He settled behind the wheel and started the engine. “Good. Because if you’re up for it, I wanted to work some more on my sculpture.”
When he’d resigned from the church, I’d tried to convince him to take a job with an artist. But art was a luxury most people in Saint View could not afford, and while Providence had a small art gallery on the main street, they mostly brought in artists from the city. Positions with sculptors were few and far between, paid terribly, and even if he had been able to secure a spot, Zeph had refused to be that far away from me and Amelia on a daily basis.
But he hadn’t stopped creating. In our new home, we’d turned the attic into his studio. It had the most light, spilling in from a large window, and had been big enough for his table and tools and the pieces he’d already created.
Last week, he’d asked me to model for him.
I grinned at him now. “Take me home and sculpt me like one of your French girls, Zeph.”
He squinted at me, confusion on his face, and I slapped his arm.
“Titanic? Rose laid out on the couch and Jack behind the artist’s easel?”
His face was still blank.
“You are so sheltered. I’ll put it on so we can watch while you work.”
He pulled into our driveway and leaned over to kiss me. “You’re the only thing I watch when I work.”
His grumbly words sent tingles through me. I was the only thing he watched almost all the time. It was a heady feeling, his gaze on me. Sometimes it was full of love and admiration. Sometimes it was with a smile because I’d sassed him and he liked it. Sometimes it was with nothing but pure, unadulterated lust.
Right now, it was verging on the latter.
In the doorway, he put his arms around me and ducked his head to steal my lips. A blistering kiss of need that had us both stepping away to run up the stairs to the attic, eager to get on with this so we could get to other things.
In the attic, we closed the door, and he locked it, even though that wasn’t really necessary with Amelia at school.
I lifted my dress over my head and unhooked my bra, peeling it down my arms.
Zeph’s eyes flared, taking in my tits and the curve of my hips.
With a teasing grin, I shimmied out of my panties as well until I stood in front of him completely naked.
He did nothing to stop his gaze wandering all over me, languishing on my nipples hardening and the junction of my thighs. With effort, he pointed at the couch on the other side of the room.
“Couch.”
I knew the drill by now, after several nights in a row of this. But it still made me breathless with anticipation.
Because it was obvious where this would lead.
Even still, I kneeled on the couch with my back to him, resting my hands on the frame for balance.
“Spread your knees a little wider,” he instructed.
I did, shifting on the soft couch cushions.
