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June starts at the sound of my voice and turns, her gaze fixing on my face. Those plush lips part, and I’m already picturing them on my cock.
I clear my throat. “Seems like we’re eating a lot of sugar lately.”
“We’re baking them for the bake sale to raise money for the homeless shelter,” June says.
I want to take her upstairs right now. “So, none for us?”
“You’re not really going to deprive the bake sale of these cookies, are you, Cash?” June asks. “That’s borderline evil.”
“Evil? Then I guess the Cookie Monster is evil too, huh?” I arch an eyebrow.
“You said it,” June replies, and grabs the mitts from the side of the oven. “But we’ll save one batch for us, assuming you’re okay with the sugar content.”
“You make me sound like I’m the food police.”
“You were the one who put the sugar rule in the spreadsheet, weren’t you?” June asks, her tone teasing.
Alex looks between us. “You guys are happy,” she says.
June goes stiff.
“Why wouldn’t we be?” I ask my daughter. “It’s summer, the house smells like cookies.”
The phone rings.
“I’ll get it!” Alex runs into the living room.
June brings the baking sheet out of the oven and turns toward me. There’s fear written all over her face, and it’s mixed with determination.
Before she can say anything, Alex comes into the kitchen holding the cordless. “It’s Daisy! She wants to talk. Can I talk upstairs?”
“Of course,” I say.
She rushes off, already jabbering away, her footsteps heavy on the stairs.
June puts the next sheet of cookies in the oven and turns on the radio. She moves through the kitchen, and I’m itching to reach out.
I rise from the table and move over to her. “June.”
She freezes. “Cash.”
The first chord of one of my songs starts up, and I reach over and shut off the radio before it can play.
“You know, you can’t just switch off the past, right? It happened, Cash. We have to live with the fact that it happened. That Olivia—”
“We need to talk,” I say.
She nods, her expression sobering. “Yeah. I know. What happened last night can never happen again.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.” I take her hand and bring it up to my lips. I brush a kiss over the back of her knuckles. “No. It has to happen again.”
June’s pupils dilate, and she shivers. “Cash?”
“I want it to happen again, do you understand? June, I need it to happen again. Like you said, we’re adults. We can do this without getting emotionally involved.”
