Definitely more.
My safer, snugger, warmer and much, much better cocoon only felt slightly funny when Billy announced what appeared to be desperately he was going to do the dishes. Then he also apparently desperately went about doing that quickly so Mitch nor I could talk him out of it or help. He didn’t even let us clear the table.
I watched this feeling troubled then I felt something else. That something was coming from Mitch so my eyes moved to him and saw that he, too, was watching Billy working diligently in the kitchen and his eyes were also troubled.
He must have felt my gaze on him, his came to me, I tipped my head to the side and he whispered, “Later, sweetheart,” so I nodded.
Mitch was stretched out on the couch watching a baseball game after I’d got the kids to bed. I rounded the couch, his eyes came to me and my eyes went to him.
“Come here, baby.”
My gaze drifted over him and he looked so good lying on his couch, his eyes on me as gentle as his voice had been, my mind settled deeply in my dream world and my body automatically drifted to him. When I was in arm’s reach, he did an ab curl, his fingers gripped my h*ps and then I was tucked with the couch at my back, his side at my front and my cheek was to his chest.
“Finish the game with me and then I’ll let you go to bed,” he muttered.
“’Kay,” I muttered back.
His arm curled around my back and his fingers trailed random patterns over the material of my jeans at my hip. I sighed and wrapped my arm around his stomach.
See? Totally insane.
I heard his voice rumble even as I felt it when he murmured, “Your pizza isn’t good.”
I blinked but I was so deep in my dream world, snuggled on the couch with Mitch that was all I had the capacity to do before I murmured back, “It isn’t?”
His fingers dug into my hip when he replied, “No, honey. It’s f**kin’ great.”
I didn’t know I could relax more into him but at his words, I did and I added a squeeze of my arm around his stomach.
His arm around my back reciprocated the squeeze.
Then he muttered, “Thanks for cleaning the house.”
He noticed.
God, he was so nice.
“You’re welcome. Thanks for letting us stay,” I muttered back on another squeeze of his abs.
“You’re welcome,” he whispered.
Another whoosh swept through my belly then his fingers went back to trailing and I stared vacantly at the game. Mitch stared at it too and I figured his wasn’t vacant but with all that was happening and another full day, I didn’t have the energy to lift my head to look. All I had the energy to do was feel his warm, hard body at my front, the relaxing movements of his fingers at my hip, the steadiness of his chest rising and falling with his breathing.
My lids were getting heavy when the TV suddenly went off and just as suddenly I was on my feet and one of his arms was around me, the other hand at my jaw tipping my head back. Then his mouth was on mine, mine was open, his tongue slid in for a sweet, delicious touch to the tip of mine and then his lips were gone.
“Go to bed, sweetheart,” he murmured.
“’Kay,” I murmured back.
His arm gave me a squeeze, his lips gave me a grin and then he turned me, gave me a gentle shove and my feet took me to his bedroom.
I didn’t know if he had his pajamas and I didn’t know if he had a blanket or pillow. In record time I was in my nightie in his bed fast asleep. So I didn’t know he came in, got his pajamas, changed in his bathroom and nabbed a pillow I wasn’t using after sliding my hair off my neck then gliding a finger along my jaw before leaving the room, closing the door and bedding down on the couch.
* * * * *
The next morning my eyes opened and I heard Mitch, Billy and Billie in the kitchen.
Then I closed my eyes.
Then I smiled into the pillow.
Then I rolled out of bed, did my bathroom business, tugged on Mitch’s flannel and headed to the kitchen for coffee, Mitch’s oatmeal and to help Mitch get the kids ready for school.
* * * * *
When I got back to Mitch’s place after work, I saw a note on the kitchen counter.
It said:
Sweetheart,
The kids are with me on the greenbelt. They’ve had a snack. We’re going out to dinner when you get home, come find us.
M
He wrote, when you get home.
Home.
Oh boy. I liked that.
I went to Mitch’s room, changed into jeans and a tee, making a mental note to ask Mitch when I could get back to my apartment for clean up (and moving back in) but also so I could get more stuff. Then I slipped on some flip-flops and went to go find them.
As I walked down the back steps to the greenspace behind our unit, I saw LaTanya and Brent sitting at a picnic table with a woman I didn’t know. They were watching Mitch, Derek and Billy playing catch with another extremely hot guy and two mini-hot guys (also who I didn’t know) at the same time watching Billie race around chasing what looked like nothing but I was assuming in her imagination was something.
I got greetings, Billie’s was how she greeted Mitch which was to say a body collision followed by a hip hug then she went back to chasing imaginary butterflies (or whatever). Mitch’s was distant (as in physically since he didn’t quit playing catch) but not distant emotionally because his eyes warmed, his face got soft and his beautiful mouth smiled when he saw me. I also got introductions and a handshake from the woman I didn’t know who was Tess O’Hara (of Tessa’s Bakery!). She was the woman of Brock Lucas (the extremely hot guy) who was Mitch’s partner (oh my God! his partner! cop partners were like family!) who gave me a chin lift and the two boys were Joel and Rex, Brock’s sons (oh my God again!) and we were going out to dinner with them (oh my God, God, God) after catch.
After I managed the herculean task of not hyperventilating and/or fainting, I joined Tess, LaTanya and Brent on the picnic table and watched Mitch, Derek, Brock, Joel, Rex and Billy playing catch.
And that was when I started fretting.
Not because of my crazy life living in a dream world. Not because I’d found out that day my new charges’ insurance was going to suck a huge amount out of my paycheck every two weeks. Not because my day was ending with Mitch playing catch with Billy and us going out to (another) family dinner, this being extended cop family including his partner and his family. Not because I hadn’t heard from Mom and Aunt Lulamae in a while and I knew this meant they’d retreated in order to plot and that did not bode good things.
No, I was fretting because Billy was not really good with a baseball mitt or throwing a ball. This was likely because he’d never tossed a ball with his father. But that wasn’t it either. It was the fact that it was clear he wanted to be good not because he actually wanted to be good but because, I was guessing from his behavior which was openly anxious, he didn’t want to annoy or disappoint Mitch.
My safer, snugger, warmer and much, much better cocoon only felt slightly funny when Billy announced what appeared to be desperately he was going to do the dishes. Then he also apparently desperately went about doing that quickly so Mitch nor I could talk him out of it or help. He didn’t even let us clear the table.
I watched this feeling troubled then I felt something else. That something was coming from Mitch so my eyes moved to him and saw that he, too, was watching Billy working diligently in the kitchen and his eyes were also troubled.
He must have felt my gaze on him, his came to me, I tipped my head to the side and he whispered, “Later, sweetheart,” so I nodded.
Mitch was stretched out on the couch watching a baseball game after I’d got the kids to bed. I rounded the couch, his eyes came to me and my eyes went to him.
“Come here, baby.”
My gaze drifted over him and he looked so good lying on his couch, his eyes on me as gentle as his voice had been, my mind settled deeply in my dream world and my body automatically drifted to him. When I was in arm’s reach, he did an ab curl, his fingers gripped my h*ps and then I was tucked with the couch at my back, his side at my front and my cheek was to his chest.
“Finish the game with me and then I’ll let you go to bed,” he muttered.
“’Kay,” I muttered back.
His arm curled around my back and his fingers trailed random patterns over the material of my jeans at my hip. I sighed and wrapped my arm around his stomach.
See? Totally insane.
I heard his voice rumble even as I felt it when he murmured, “Your pizza isn’t good.”
I blinked but I was so deep in my dream world, snuggled on the couch with Mitch that was all I had the capacity to do before I murmured back, “It isn’t?”
His fingers dug into my hip when he replied, “No, honey. It’s f**kin’ great.”
I didn’t know I could relax more into him but at his words, I did and I added a squeeze of my arm around his stomach.
His arm around my back reciprocated the squeeze.
Then he muttered, “Thanks for cleaning the house.”
He noticed.
God, he was so nice.
“You’re welcome. Thanks for letting us stay,” I muttered back on another squeeze of his abs.
“You’re welcome,” he whispered.
Another whoosh swept through my belly then his fingers went back to trailing and I stared vacantly at the game. Mitch stared at it too and I figured his wasn’t vacant but with all that was happening and another full day, I didn’t have the energy to lift my head to look. All I had the energy to do was feel his warm, hard body at my front, the relaxing movements of his fingers at my hip, the steadiness of his chest rising and falling with his breathing.
My lids were getting heavy when the TV suddenly went off and just as suddenly I was on my feet and one of his arms was around me, the other hand at my jaw tipping my head back. Then his mouth was on mine, mine was open, his tongue slid in for a sweet, delicious touch to the tip of mine and then his lips were gone.
“Go to bed, sweetheart,” he murmured.
“’Kay,” I murmured back.
His arm gave me a squeeze, his lips gave me a grin and then he turned me, gave me a gentle shove and my feet took me to his bedroom.
I didn’t know if he had his pajamas and I didn’t know if he had a blanket or pillow. In record time I was in my nightie in his bed fast asleep. So I didn’t know he came in, got his pajamas, changed in his bathroom and nabbed a pillow I wasn’t using after sliding my hair off my neck then gliding a finger along my jaw before leaving the room, closing the door and bedding down on the couch.
* * * * *
The next morning my eyes opened and I heard Mitch, Billy and Billie in the kitchen.
Then I closed my eyes.
Then I smiled into the pillow.
Then I rolled out of bed, did my bathroom business, tugged on Mitch’s flannel and headed to the kitchen for coffee, Mitch’s oatmeal and to help Mitch get the kids ready for school.
* * * * *
When I got back to Mitch’s place after work, I saw a note on the kitchen counter.
It said:
Sweetheart,
The kids are with me on the greenbelt. They’ve had a snack. We’re going out to dinner when you get home, come find us.
M
He wrote, when you get home.
Home.
Oh boy. I liked that.
I went to Mitch’s room, changed into jeans and a tee, making a mental note to ask Mitch when I could get back to my apartment for clean up (and moving back in) but also so I could get more stuff. Then I slipped on some flip-flops and went to go find them.
As I walked down the back steps to the greenspace behind our unit, I saw LaTanya and Brent sitting at a picnic table with a woman I didn’t know. They were watching Mitch, Derek and Billy playing catch with another extremely hot guy and two mini-hot guys (also who I didn’t know) at the same time watching Billie race around chasing what looked like nothing but I was assuming in her imagination was something.
I got greetings, Billie’s was how she greeted Mitch which was to say a body collision followed by a hip hug then she went back to chasing imaginary butterflies (or whatever). Mitch’s was distant (as in physically since he didn’t quit playing catch) but not distant emotionally because his eyes warmed, his face got soft and his beautiful mouth smiled when he saw me. I also got introductions and a handshake from the woman I didn’t know who was Tess O’Hara (of Tessa’s Bakery!). She was the woman of Brock Lucas (the extremely hot guy) who was Mitch’s partner (oh my God! his partner! cop partners were like family!) who gave me a chin lift and the two boys were Joel and Rex, Brock’s sons (oh my God again!) and we were going out to dinner with them (oh my God, God, God) after catch.
After I managed the herculean task of not hyperventilating and/or fainting, I joined Tess, LaTanya and Brent on the picnic table and watched Mitch, Derek, Brock, Joel, Rex and Billy playing catch.
And that was when I started fretting.
Not because of my crazy life living in a dream world. Not because I’d found out that day my new charges’ insurance was going to suck a huge amount out of my paycheck every two weeks. Not because my day was ending with Mitch playing catch with Billy and us going out to (another) family dinner, this being extended cop family including his partner and his family. Not because I hadn’t heard from Mom and Aunt Lulamae in a while and I knew this meant they’d retreated in order to plot and that did not bode good things.
No, I was fretting because Billy was not really good with a baseball mitt or throwing a ball. This was likely because he’d never tossed a ball with his father. But that wasn’t it either. It was the fact that it was clear he wanted to be good not because he actually wanted to be good but because, I was guessing from his behavior which was openly anxious, he didn’t want to annoy or disappoint Mitch.
