by Ella Goode
“No. I’m looking at stuff on Pinterest, and if you see it, you’ll buy everything.” She wrinkles her nose. “I just want to browse in peace.”
I snort. She’s not wrong. “Is it a crime to want to spoil you?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I won’t do it.”
She wrinkles her nose again. “Now you’re being too compliant.”
“I need you in a forgiving mood.”
“For what?”
I lower myself to my knees. “For not fighting for you. I should’ve been on my knees the moment Davis came in, and I’m sorry for it.”
She wraps her arms around my head and pulls me against her chest. “No. You wanted to preserve the friendship we all shared. That’s precious to me, too. And Davis always acted like we were a thing, so you probably felt guilty every time you touched me.”
“I still did it.”
“Yes, and I’m glad.” She presses a kiss on the top of my head.
“My dad is a cheater,” I blurt out. “I need you to know this. He’s a cheater, and I don’t want to be like him.”
“Baby, you are not like your dad.”
“I tried to hold out for so long because I didn’t want to be someone who snuck around, lied to people, and took what didn’t belong to me, but for you…” I swallow the rock in my throat. “For you, I would do anything to have you, even betray my best friend.”
“Oh, Berkley. You’re so good. A man like your dad would never question how he hurts people. He just does it. You’re on your knees for the second time in a day. I know you didn’t want to hurt Davis. You held me off for so long. I’m the one that seduced you, you know.”
“You didn’t—“
She shoves my face tighter against her chest, muffling my voice. “Yes. It was me. Give me some credit for being a sexy, irresistible woman”—she pauses dramatically—“or else.”
“Or else,” I mouth against her.
“Yeah. You don’t know what havoc I can wreak. We bakers are quite dangerous. We have knives and whisks and mixers. The kitchen is the most dangerous place in the house.”
I ease out of her grip. “You are woman. I hear you roar.”
“Yes, exactly.” She places her hands under my chin and tips my face up. “Never forget it.”
“I won’t,” I vow. “I love you, sweetness. I’ll love you forever.”
“I know. I love you, too.” The kiss she lays on me is as tender and passionate as I’ve ever had, and in it, I feel her promise that she believes in my devotion and my unending love. My heart fills with peace and my cock with lust. I sweep her into my arms and carry her to her room, ending the night exactly as I had told Davis—except it’s not sex, it’s love.
Chapter Twenty
Chandler
Berkley pulls my helmet off for me before I can even get off his bike. His mouth is on mine kissing me until we’re both breathless.
“Are we skipping right to the end of the date?” I dig my fingers into his shirt. I’m not opposed to the idea, but it was Berkley who insisted on us having a real date. He even made sure to set the date up for a time where he could knock on the front door and Mom and Dad would be home to answer. It was sweet. My mom ate it up.
It’s nice not having to hide us anymore. Not that we’ve put up some sign to tell everyone we’re together, but we no longer try to hide it either. I can kiss him whenever I want. That is way better than the stolen kisses. This way I get a whole lot more of them.
“I’m doing this right.” He steps back from me. I watch as he adjusts his cock. I huff a breath. “Don’t pout.” He brushes his thumb across my bottom lip. “I’m a sure thing.” I burst into laughter as he leads me toward the back door of his house and down into the game room. I pause for a second, my eyes starting to sting because right now this looks nothing like the game room.
“Berkley.” I look around the room. The lights are off but the whole room is lit up with white lights that he’s draped all over the place along with candles. It looks like it should be in one of those romantic movies.
On one side of the room he has it set up with a table and chairs with covered plates. Flowers sit in the center of the table. There are rose petals strewn all over the ground around the table. Over by the giant TV he has a popcorn machine and a variety of snacks set up and ready to go like a concession stand at a movie theater.
“Dinner and a movie.” The smile on his face drops away when he looks down at me. “You’re going to cry, aren’t you?”
I blink quickly, not wanting to cry, but it’s so freaking sweet. Of course the one time I get myself all dolled up with makeup and all for this date night I’m about to cry and ruin it.
I throw myself at him kissing him all over his face. “No one will ever believe me about how sweet Berkley Knox is. I kind of love that I’m the only one who knows this side of you.” His hands squeeze my ass. If he keeps touching me, we’re not going to make it to dinner.
“You’re the only one who makes me want to do these things. Hell, you’re the only person who has me thinking about the future and what I want to do with my life.”
“Are you trying to make me cry?” I sniffle.
“I’m trying to prove that I’m always going to be the man for you.”
“I’ve known that for a few years,” I admit. I wiggle so he puts me down on my feet. As much as I want to push him down on the sofa and have my way with him, I also want to enjoy our date too. I’d like to find out what he is picturing when he looks into our future. It’s not a crazy question really. We all aren't far from starting a new chapter in our lives. School will soon be over and where will that leave all of us?
“The quicker we eat, the quicker I can have dessert,” he says as he smacks my ass before leading me over to the table and pulling out the chair for me. I sit, and he pushes the chair in before laying a napkin on my lap, acting like a true gentleman. I watch as he walks to take his seat across from me.
I burst into laughter when he lifts the cover off the tray and I see what I once told him would be the perfect fried chicken meal from a fast food place. Chicken from Popeyes, potatoes from KFC, and biscuits from Church’s.
“I can’t believe you remembered that.” I really do love this man. It was a random conversation we had at three in the morning when he was lying in bed with me.
“I remember everything you say.” I grab a piece of chicken, digging in.
“What do you think will happen when school is over? You don’t talk much about your plans.”
“Only plans I have are being with you. I can go to school anywhere.”
“So college?” He shrugs.
“I’m going to culinary school.”
“I know.” Of course he does, because he listens to everything I say.
“Wonder where Davis will end up.” Berkley lifts my biscuit for me, putting butter and honey on it.
“I was thinking about that actually. Did you see that they cancelled the NCAA for the year?”
“See? I heard Davis scream from next door.” I laugh. No college football this year. I had a feeling that one was coming. Berkley lets out a chuckle.
“I was thinking of putting some tapes together and making some new ones for Davis. Get him out there. These colleges are going to have to figure out how to recruit for next year one way or another.”
“Berkley.” I get up, coming around the table. He pushes back in his chair, making room for me to sit in his lap. “You’re so freaking sweet. I can’t even handle it.” I kiss him. “Now tell me more. In your eyes how would this work out for us?” It’s clear that Berkley has ideas in his head about the future. He’s been thinking about it for all of us.
“I thought we might go where Davis goes. We can get a place. I think you’d have to live on campus or some shit for the first year. I don’t know all the rules. We can go to school almost anywhere.”
“We would get a place?” I wrap my arms around his neck. I like the sound of that. Berkley goes to bed wit
h me most nights. It will be strange when that’s over. It would be nice if he could be there when I woke up too.
“Yeah, we would get a place.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out then.” I brush my mouth against his as I shift to straddle him. His hands slip under my dress to my ass, and I can tell the second he feels that I'm bare underneath.
“I’ll reheat the food.” He groans as he stands with me in his arms. At the same time, the room floods with light.
Davis doesn't look our way as he makes himself right at home going over to the movie theater area Berkley set up. Mike and Syracuse stand there in shock. Berkley turns, making sure my ass isn't showing.
“What’s going on here?” Mike says.
“You know what this means?” I hear Syracuse say. “No more ten-year plan, Davis.”
Davis lets out a loud groan that has me giggling into Berkley’s neck. “I’m going to kill them,” Berkley growls.
“No, we’re going to share our chicken and hang out with our friends.”
He grunts but puts me on my feet. “I’ll go get you some panties.”
“You’re going to drive all the way back to my place?”
Berkley actually blushes. “I have some of yours here.” I burst into laughter.
“Damn, Berk. You never set shit up like this for us,” Mike says.
“That’s because you don’t give him any—”
Davis smacks Syracuse in the back of the head before he can say the word pussy.
“You sure I can’t kill them?”
I rest my head on Berkley’s chest watching them all start to fight with a smile on my face.
We might be young, but we’ve all been through our own challenges. Especially in the last year. This year has been crazier than any other, but it doesn’t seem to matter what life throws at us.
When all the cards fall, we’re all still together. Laughing and smiling. The people in this room aren’t only my friends, they are my family. As for Berkley, he is my future. The pandemic might have brought a ton of uncertainty and worry, but it also brought all of us closer together.
Epilogue
Berkley
“I can’t believe it’s raining this hard. How am I going to get to prom in the middle of a hurricane?” Baker wails.
Her mom pats her on the shoulder. “The rain will die down.”
“It’s not a hurricane because we don’t live near any body of water. It’s a thunderstorm,” Mav says flatly, not looking up from the book he’s reading. I think it’s Nietszche or some other unpronounceable philosopher whose works I don’t understand. How I ended up with such a brainy kid I don’t know. I was smart enough in high school and managed to get a master’s in business, but I’ve got nothing on this one. He doesn’t even look like a braniac at six four and two hundred plus pounds, but to the high school coaches’ dismay, he doesn’t have any interest in sports. If his nose isn’t in a book, he’s sleeping—unlike my daughter, who’s all motion, no rest.
She spins around and points a finger at her older brother. “It’s a metaphor.”
“Metaphors are figures of speech describing something abstract. Rain is not abstract.” He flicks to the next page.
“I hate you.”
“You’re irritated.”
Baker stomps her foot, looking more like six than sixteen. I lean back against the wall and try to hide my smile. I’m glad for the rain and the prom cancellation.
“If I don’t get to go to the dance tonight, I will literally die.” Baker throws herself down in the chair, crushing two thousand dollars’ worth of tulle, satin, and silk. Chandler had the dress made in Paris. I think she’s living out her own missed senior prom—the one that got canceled because of the pandemic.
“We didn’t die, and we had the whole pand—”
“Please don’t say it,” Baker begs her mom. “You bring that up every day.”
“Every day? I don’t think I bring it up every day,” protests Chandler. “Do I?” she asks.
“No. Never,” I say even though Chandler does bring it up every now and then. Why wouldn’t she? It impacted our lives for two years. Granted, most of the time we spent screwing each other’s brains out, so whenever Chandler mentions it, I get slightly hard. Even thinking about it now...I angle myself away from the kids.
“Let’s have people over here,” Chandler suggests.
“No.” Baker gets up to peer out the window again as if she can stare the rain away.
“Why not? We can turn the library into a dance floor. It’s large enough if we push all the furniture to the walls. We’ll get a caterer to come in and make punch and finger food. I can whip up some pastries.”
Baker scrunches her nose and shakes her head.
“It’s because of you, Dad,” Mav informs me.
“Me?” I point a finger at my chest.
“Yeah, she wants to make out with her boyfriend and can’t do it when you’re around. If the party was held here, you’d be around,” he explains.
“Of course I’d be around. It’s my house.” I frown. Boyfriend? “Did you say boyfriend?”
“God! Mav. Do you have to have such a big mouth?” Baker picks up the skirts of her dress and runs down the hall. Chandler takes off after her.
“Boyfriend?” I swivel back to big-mouthed Mav, who is not actually real talkative. He must not like the bastard. “I’ll kill him.”
I start for my bedroom.
“You can’t. You don’t know who he is.”
What did Baker once call Maverick? A know-it-all? That fits. “Tell me then.”
“No.”
“Why not?” How did I go so wrong with my kids?
“Because then you’ll call him and make threatening noises which will make Baker cry. Baker crying will make Mom cry and then you’ll be in a terrible mood because you hate to see Mom cry. Mom crying and Baker crying and you being in a piss-poor mood means a bad day for me, so no, I won’t tell you who he is.” Mav shuts his book and gets to his feet.
I’m always mildly surprised when I see him standing in front of me, eye to eye. In my head, he and Baker are still tiny tots, with Mav chasing after Baker with a worm dangling from his hand, yelling that worms are very industrious, and she shouldn’t be afraid.
“I will tell you that if he gets out of hand or hurts Baker, I’ll pound his face in and feed his dick to the fish in our pond.” He slaps me on the shoulder with his book. “I got this, Dad. Might as well call up the caterer since the hurricane is going to keep us from the party.”
“I thought it wasn’t a hurricane.”
My son arches an eyebrow. “You’re going to argue with Baker? Good luck.” He’s laughing as he walks away.
Chandler returns soon after. “Were you two telling jokes?” she asks, gliding over to me. I catch her up in my arms and place a kiss on her lips.
“Yeah.” We were bonding over him pledging to make a eunuch out of Baker’s boyfriend—a boyfriend I didn’t realize she had.” I give Chandler a look because I’m certain she knows of this boy’s existence in our daughter’s life.
“Leon is not her boyfriend exactly. Just a friend that she likes.” She glides her fingers up my shirt until she reaches my neck. I’m being buttered up for something—probably the party here. She isn’t aware that Mav has already talked me into it, and I don’t plan to enlighten her any time soon. I enjoy being bribed with sex. It’s one of my favorite activities.
I put on a stern face. “That sounds like a boyfriend to me.”
“We were young lovers, too,” Chandler reminds me.
My eyes widen. “L-lovers?” Real alarm skitters down my spine.
“Shhh.” Chandler presses a finger to my lips. “It’s going to be okay. Just like we were okay.”
“But we got married. My baby can’t get married. She’s sixteen.”
“She’s not getting married. She’s just exploring young love.”
“This sounds like the worst thing I’ve ever he
ard.” I no longer want to be bribed with sex. I need to have a talk with my son. Maybe buy him a sledgehammer. And a knife. Possibly a chainsaw?
“Baker is a smart girl. We raised her well and she will make good decisions. My question is whether you’re going to do anything about this.” She pulls my hand down inside the waistband of her skirt. Instinctively, my fingers find her hot sex. My eyebrows go up when I find her wet—extremely so. “Thinking about our first time has made me a little excited.”
I’m torn. I want my wife, but there’s also maiming to be done. Chandler’s lower lip comes out. “Are you not interested? I guess I can take care of it myself.”
I jerk to attention. “What? No fucking way.” Chandler hasn’t had to take care of herself since the first time I touched her. “This is my pussy. I take care of it.” I shove a hard finger inside of her.
She gasps and clutches me tighter. “Then get to work, big boy.” She pulls my head down until my lips are sealed against hers. With her mouth on mine and my fingers deep inside her pussy, all thoughts of parties, proms, hurricanes, chainsaws, and kids fly out of my mind. I’ve got my sweetness to take care of—and I do.
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