It’s later, and we’re back at our house after the fair.
All three of us.
Me, wrapping up some stuff on my laptop in the living room, Emily getting ready for bed, and Serena using my shower to get the smashed blackberry pie off of her face, neck, hands, and arms.
Casualties of the “ye olde pie-eating contest” she and Emily insisted on participating in.
I’ve given up even trying to rationalize any of this anymore. I’m not just ignoring the warning bells about bringing a woman into my home and into my daughter’s life, I’ve flat out turned them off.
I think I’m pretty okay with that decision.
I glance up from my laptop at Emily, standing in her PJs in the living room doorway.
“She’s taking a shower. Apparently she didn’t want to go to bed smelling like blackberries. Crazy, huh?”
Emily rolls her eyes and grins impishly at me. “I told her it’d be delicious if she did.”
I chuckle. “Yeah I bet it would. But a pain in the butt for the poor dad who has to wash your sheets and pillowcase though.”
Emily giggles.
“Will you tell her I said goodnight?”
“Definitely. Do I get a goodnight too?”
She smiles as she comes over and gives me a hug. “Night, Dad.”
“Night, kiddo. Want me to tuck you in?”
“No, that’s okay.”
A wry grin crosses my face. Shit, she’s growing up.
“You sure?”
She nods, as she turns and heads out of the room, and I glance back at my laptop.
“Are you and Serena in love?”
My head jerks back up to see Emily still standing there in the doorway, and my heart does a flip at the question before I start to chuckle.
Her brow wrinkles. “I’m not joking, Dad.”
I wipe the smile from my face, clearing my throat seriously. “Right, right, no of course. I know you’re not.”
“Well? Are you?”
I nod pensively before answering. “We’re really good friends and I like her a lot. Is that what you mean?”
“I guess. Is liking someone a lot the same thing as loving them?”
I close the laptop and push it aside. “Man, that’s a tough question. Sometimes, I guess? What do you think?”
“I’m not sure. But I like her a lot too.”
“I know you do, kiddo.”
She smiles at me before she turns and heads for the stairs again. “Goodnight, Dad.”
“Night, Lady Emily.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Serena
“Did I miss her?”
Landon glances up and cracks a grin.
“Nice outfit.”
“Hey, it’s your robe, don’t knock it too hard.”
His robe that I’m swimming in. The ensemble is topped off with the big fluffy towel my hair is wrapped up in, perched like a turban on my head. Landon’s sitting on the couch in sweats and an undershirt that on him somehow look criminally good instead of couch-potato-ish.
“You did miss her, she went out like a light.”
“Shoot. I tried to make it a quick shower.”
“Hope I didn’t use up the hot water on you.”
I shake my head.
“She did say to tell you goodnight, and-”
He stops, his mouth shutting as he shakes his head. “She said goodnight.” His eyes drag over me as a hungry look flits across his face. “I hope that’s all you’re wearing.”
I wag my brows, doing a little sexy sashay as I step towards him, undo the tie, and dramatically yank open the robe.
Landon sighs as I snort a laugh, gesturing down at the t-shirt and pair of his boxers I’m wearing. “Need I remind you that you live with an impressionable young girl who does not need me prancing around your house in just bathrobes?”
He grins as he stands from the couch and moves towards me. “No, you don’t. But aforementioned impressionable offspring is currently way into dreamland.”
He reaches out and snags the robe, pulling it and me along with it into him. I mold against him, my hands somehow landing on his hard, grooved stomach and slowly sliding over to his hips. He’s warm, and smells like soap and shampoo, his hair still slightly wet from the shower he took right before me. His arms circle around me, pulling me tight against him, molding my body to his.
“Damn.”
“What?”
“You don’t smell like blackberries anymore.”
I grin widely, before I shake my head. “I should go home,” I whisper, and I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince, but the argument is falling very, very flat.
His hand slips under the robe and around to the small of my back, his touch firm and possessive in a way that has my pulse throbbing and my body arching against his.