I find he’s smiling when I finally manage to drag my gaze upward, and his eyes are hot enough to fry my clothes off when mine meet his.
“He’s always like that for you, so unless you want me to postpone breakfast and eat you up instead, I suggest you keep your eyes on mine,” he growls.
“Can we eat breakfast and then talk?” I squeak, my determination wavering in the face of all that size. Really. The man is huge, everywhere, and I’m not even sure it will fit.
He sighs then turns back to the stove as I walk over and start buttering the toast. The silence is oddly comforting, and I find myself relaxing and giggling beneath my breath at him and the crazy family I now seem to belong to.
“What’s so funny, baby?”
“Nothing. Just, you know your mom’s already named grandkids and has a color scheme for the nursery, right? Last night she asked me how I feel about breast versus bottle since she intends on babysitting. A lot. And then she made some giggling noises and rang off. I think your dad liked the topic of conversation a little too much, if you know what I mean.”
“You want my ears to start bleeding, baby? That’s just plain gross,” he gripes, but I notice he’s smiling and giving me sideways glances at the mention of babies and boobs.
I giggle and set the table as he starts serving.
“You know you came from somewhere…”
“Ma says she found me in a ‘most likely to be a convict’ catalogue,” he says and we laugh together.
I feel free as we eat and talk about nothing of importance, just enjoying the company and our time together.
Though I still get the uncontrollable urge to go in search of my usual fare of boiled chicken and granola, I am making a conscious effort to fight it and just live in the here and now.
It feels good not to be so busy keeping everything perfect. With Wyatt, I can relax and not think about anything unless I want to, and even then, he’s pretty insistent about him doing all of the heavy lifting.
I’m pampered and relaxed and just…free, I guess, and that feels great because it reminds me of lazy Saturdays spent with Mama and those fishing trips Dad would take me on when I was little.
“Hey, Wyatt?”
“Yeah?”
I’m nervous as we clean the plates away and make our way to the pool in the lower level.
“I think I would have liked to date you when I was younger,” I admit eventually when we reach the Olympics-sized pool and he bends to test the water temp.
My words give him pause, and he looks up at me from his crouching position with eyes that are hot and soft at the same time. His Adam’s apple bobs and I see him swallow before smiling up at me.
Do I see regret there?
“I’m glad to hear that, baby, since I would have dated you in a heartbeat.” He rises and takes my hand to pull me towards a little room in the corner. “There are bathing suits in all sizes in there. Choose one and come on in, the water is perfect.”
Five minutes later I’m cursing myself, all swimsuit models, and the freaks who make these darn things. The only suit in my size in this joint is a white one with two tiny triangles masquerading as a top.
My boobs look huge in this thing, and to top it off, the sides are on full display and my nipples are barely covered by the small amount of fabric.
And I won’t even go into the tiny ass bottoms that want to be a thong no matter how many times I try to stretch the fabric over my behind.
“Ellie, you okay in there, baby?” I hear through the door and my heart starts beating a mile a minute at the thought of him so close and me so…exposed.
“Er, yeah, I just can’t find anything to fit. It’s indecent.”
If I walk out there in this I won’t have to say a word or do a damn thing. This suit is an invitation in and of itself.
“Stop stalling and get out here.”
I obey, cracking the door open to look out, and I start drooling like a dog. The man is a fine specimen in a pair of low-riding swim trunks that highlight everything he’s showing and more.
“Wow,” I breathe, clapping a hand to my mouth and blushing when he chuckles and shoves the door open wider.
“Holy fucking shit.”
I guess he likes the suit then.
My cheeks heat and I do that weird girl thing where I look down and dig my toe into the white marble beneath my feet.
“It’s too small,” I mutter, bringing my arms up to cover myself and my hard nipples.
“I disagree, you look freaking phenomenal. But if it’s uncomfortable, you can always take it off,” he purrs, waggling his eyebrows at me.
That breaks the tension that’s been gripping me, and I giggle.
“In your dreams.”
“Night and day, baby. I dream about it night and day. Now stop seducing me and get that butt in the water.”