Chapter Twenty-Four

Cliff

She and my dad walk in, laughter in their voices as they speak. And I feel like my life is complete. With her here, and my parents, everything feels like that same happy, loving home I remember as a child, but with new depth. The depth of having the woman I love here too.

It’s like everything has come full circle.

“So why the surprise visit?” I ask Mom, and she’s quick to confide in me in a low tone of voice for my ears only. I appreciate her caution.

“We saw the news. That poor girl.” She sounds upset, and I know that she’s feeling terrible for all the things that have happened to Addie. That’s my mom, though. Compassion is something she’s always had in spades.

“I love her, Mom,” I say, and Mom gives me a look that tells all. There’s a slight smile on her lips and a set to her eyebrows like she’s wondering if there’s even a chance I think she didn’t already know.

“I know,” she says, confirming everything I’d been thinking. “But my question is what are you going to do about it?”

Well, that’s nothing if not a loaded question.

Before I can say anything, Addie and Dad come in from the back. They make their way toward us, and I see the smile in Dad’s eyes while she talks, and I know he already approves of her too.

Addie is animated, excited as she speaks to me. “Your father said there are fishing poles in the garage and everything. We have to go fishing!”

I can feel Mom looking at me, but all I can see is Addie. Her luminous green eyes are sparkling, and her lips are curved in a beautiful smile. Of course she’d like fishing. She fucking can’t get any more perfect for me, can she? Not even if she tried.

“Of course,” I say, unable to stop looking at the huge, happy grin on Addie’s face. “We’ve got kayaks out there too,” I say, and she bounces up and down on her feet and giggles, clapping her hands like a little girl. But her huge breasts are bouncing with the movement. She’s not a little girl. Not by any stretch of the imagination. I feel like I’ve been kicked in the balls.

Fucking hell, I want her again. I want to usher my parents out of here with thanks for stopping bys and see you laters so I can get Addie back in bed.

But there’s no way in hell I can make that happen, so I have to tamp back that desire and put on a happy face. Fucking hell, I want to drag her by the arm into the nearest room, close the door, and use her sexy body to sate this need rising up in me.

I’d hoped having her would ease some of this need, but I’m not that lucky, of course. If anything, I feel a more acute need to be buried in her now that I know how good she feels.

“Breakfast is ready!” Mom says, saving me from doing or saying something really stupid.

I can’t take my eye off Addie, who’s quick to hurry over and set the table. And I just stand there like an idiot, watching her. She doesn’t even seem to notice me as she and my dad talk and place napkins. But Mom elbows me, breaking me out of my thoughts. “Dish up plates and pick your chin up off the floor,” she says, and I jump to follow her orders.

“You’ve got it bad, don’t you?” Mom says, a gentle teasing note to her voice. But she also sounds happy for me. Or happy this is happening to me. I’m not sure which.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I tell her, and she lets out a rich, hearty laugh.

“It’s okay,” she says. “This might surprise you, but I’ve been in love before.” She must have seen the panic in my face because she looks over at Addie as if to calm me down. “She’s busy and isn’t hearing a word we say,” Mom says. Beyond her, I see Addie and Dad conspiring as they set the table.

They’re talking and laughing so easily it’s warming my heart. Seeing Addie with my dad is something that I hadn’t even thought about, but knowing they’re getting along like a house on fire is really a sight for sore eyes.

With all she’s been through, Addie needs this. She needs to belong, to have a sense of normalcy. She needs support and comfort. And my family has those in spades.

With plates dished high with pancakes—Mom’s specialty—I place things on the table and go back for maple syrup, milk, orange juice, all the fixings for an amazing filling breakfast.

My parents sit together, and I find myself beside Addie, who’s eyeing the food like she hasn’t eaten in months. I love that she eats. I mean, really eats. She doesn’t pick at her food; she’s not a dainty eater. She puts food away like I do.

Conversation trickles and stacks of pancakes are eaten while we all sit. I enjoy listening to Addie talk. When my parents ask her questions, she answers, sometimes shyly, sometimes with excitement. She tells about how her father taught her to fish, and how she caught a giant bass when she was little.

I watch her light up and share pieces of herself so willingly and know that I’m a lost cause. Because I don’t just want to sleep with her. No, I want to hear every story she has to tell. I want to create new memories that make her as animated as she is in this moment.

I want all of her.

When we’ve finished eating, I begin to clear dishes and Addie helps me before my parents jump in. As a group we clean, wash dishes, put things away, and clean the kitchen the way we’ve done things since I was little.

Mom taught me that messes we make as a family, we fix as a family. And now, knowing what I know, I realize that philosophy extends to a lot more than just a dirty kitchen.

When everything is clean, Addie wraps me up in a hug and my parents ask what we’ve got planned. Addie makes a joke that she plans to go fishing and invites my mom and dad out.

I laugh that they’re already making plans like this is just a big family vacation and Addie is a part of it. More than a part of it—the heart of it all.

My parents and Addie are getting along better than I could have ever hoped. “Fishing sounds good,” I say, but my mom gives a little jerk to her head as if to ask me to come talk to her.

I plant a kiss on the top of Addie’s head and walk toward Mom. Stopping in the doorway, I look back at Dad and Addie. “We’ll catch up to you guys, okay?” I say. Addie nods, and I catch up with Mom, wondering what’s so important she decided to pull me away like that.

“We need to talk,” she says, sounding so very serious I’m actually worried for a minute that something is terribly wrong.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, feeling ice line my gut. She hesitates, then nods. I’m not totally convinced as we sit down on opposite sides of the kitchen table.