It takes me a few seconds to realize that I'm fantasizing about Brooke Overland, the chick from the park. In my dream, her body's as soft and supple as it looked at the park, her hair smelling like peaches, her mouth hot and wild on my tattooed cock, tongue playing with the piercing in my balls.
I smirk as I drag my phone under my pillow next with me and check my texts. There's a single emoji from Pink Haired Kitty and a time that I'm assuming is for our, uh, session. The other is from Brooke, confirming that she'll be at the park. I try not to get too excited, but damn. Two dry weeks in Eureka is two too many. Having a friend with benefits around would be a huge relief.
“Alright, you little fuckers, get off the bed.” The boys gasp as I sit up and toss the pillow onto the floor. “Get your butts in that bathtub. I'm not meeting a girl with smelly kids hanging off my legs.”
The twins scream and leap from the bed, falling over each other in an attempt to escape first. I grin and chase after them, scaring them down the stairs before I head back in and grab the baby. Things are lookin' up. Mercedes' parents are stable, and it looks like they're gonna make it; Kitty's forgiven me for last night; and I've got a date with Brooke Overland.
Hard to see this day getting much better than that.
By the time our park visit rolls around, Iiiiiiii'm about ready to blow my head off.
“You're gross and weird. Our neighbor, Shiela, said you're going to the H-place because you have tattoos on your body and God doesn't like tattoos.”
I almost slam my face into the steering wheel at the next light.
“The H-place? What the … who the frick is Shiela?” I'm think it's time for a neighbor to get punched right in the eye for that shit. My brother and sister-in-law aren't religious; it's not up for some neighbor to start telling the kids that kind of crap. “No. Nobody goes to hell for having tattoos. That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. Forget she ever told you that.”
Kinzie makes a dramatic sound from the center row and I glare at her in the mirror, grabbing a Taylor Swift playlist from iTunes and cranking it up enough that I don't have to listen to the twins scrabbling at each other in the backseat.
I thought today was gonna be great, but … it can't get any worse, right? The baby puked milk up all over me, the dogs chewed a small hole in the upstairs bathroom door, and that pot growing neighbor next door is such a fucking dick that I'm about one incident away from marching over to his place and telling him like it is.
Park day with that hottie, Brooke Overland. That's what I need.
“This is boring. Why are we going to the park again?”
I ignore my niece and decide that I don't care if the kids think I'm cool or not, I'm singing pop music all the way home. Clearly the little bastards don't much like me anyway. Hope they do like P!nk, Elle King, and Selena Gomez … cause that is what we're listening to for the next two weeks.
I pull into a space, my eyes already scanning the park for little Miss Overland.
I spot her at the bench we were sitting on yesterday, her phone in her hand, long dark hair blowing in the breeze. When she looks up, it fans across her face, turning my cock to diamond. Damn. Wow. She has big round eyes, curvy lips, and a long graceful neck. I know, I know, weird thing to check out on a chick, a neck. But when your lips are pressed up against the pulse in a girl's throat, a hot neck makes a big difference.
Just sayin'.
“Let's go, snots,” I say as I do the whole unloading ritual. This time when I get the stroller out, it unfolds perfectly. Hah. See, not all that hard. Don't know why guys are always bitching about this stuff. When you've got Google in your hand, what can't you do?
I run my fingers through my hair and slide my tongue across my lower lip. Oh yes. Brooke looks amazing sitting over there in some kind of loose black dress, the neckline plunging to reveal a curvy set of breasts. I'd do just about anything to get my face down there to worship those.
“Be cute and get me laid, okay?” I tell the baby as a mother whips her face around and glares at me with narrowed eyes. “She doesn't talk yet,” I whisper with a wink as I move past her and find myself standing in front of my new friend.
God, I love making new friends. Especially lady friends.
I smile as Brooke glances up, her pale brown eyes shadowed in liner. Based on yesterday and today, it looks like her style is all over the place. She looked like a a sexy hipster before and now she looks like a pseudo goth chick.
Either way, totally cool with me.
“I remembered the bread,” she says as I slide onto the bench next to her, resting a foot against the baby's stroller. “For the ducks, I mean.”
“Killer,” I say as I study her curvy figure under the soft black jersey of that dress. I want to get my hands all the hell over that. “It's been, like, eleven years since I've been down to the duck pond. You'll have to remind me how to get there.”