MYLA ROSE
I roll over, and just like in that stupid dream I had right after meeting him, I’m met with empty, cool sheets. However, I can hear the water running behind the bathroom door, so I know I’m not alone.
I turn my head to glance at the clock. It’s not even six yet. I toss and turn before settling myself on his side of the bed, burrowing myself under his citrus-scented sheets. I’m on the brink of falling back asleep when I swear I hear him groan my name.
Sweet baby Jesus. His voice is heaven in everyday conversation, but that sound was pure sin. It was feral, and it has me wanton and needy. Too bad I’m too chicken shit to do anything about it.
The water stops, and I hear the clink of the shower curtain being pulled back. I do my best to pretend I’m still sleeping. The last thing I want is for him to know I heard him.
The door opens, and the mouth-watering shower steam seeps out into the bedroom. It’s a heady combination of citrus, soap, and deodorant—I swear, it’s like I’m cocooned in all things Cash, and I’m pretty damn sure this is what Nirvana is like.
I peek my eyes open as he walks past the bed, and the sight I’m met with elicits a loud gasp from me.
He isn’t wrapped in a towel . . . no, he’s as naked as the day he was born. Now, mind you, my view is of his backside, but it is mighty fine all the same. His shoulders are broad and his back is strong. And his ass, Jesus, don’t even get me started.
“’Morning, darlin’,” he says with a devilish smile before making his way into his closet, presumably to get dressed. What a shame.
A few moments later, he emerges, much to my dismay, fully clothed. “You a breakfast person?”
“Best meal of the day,” I tell him sincerely.
“I could think of one I’d like better.” He winks and extends a hand to me. “C’mon, you can help me get food ready for the twins. They’ll be up shortly.” I take his hand and quickly shimmy into my bra and shorts before trailing behind him to the kitchen, where he starts gathering ingredients. “You like French toast?” I nod, and he starts cracking the eggs into a bowl.
Sure enough, by the time the food is ready, two bed-headed, sleepy-eyed little boys shuffle into the dining room. Neither of them speak. They just plop themselves down into their chairs and wait for their plates.
After a few forkfuls of French toast, though? A different story. It’s like they mainlined the sugar because they are wired now.
“Princess, did you sleep over too?” Preston asks.
I freeze, unsure of what to tell them. Thankfully, Cash saves the day. “Yup, she sure did.”
“Cool. Can we go play outside?” Cash nods, and they tear out of the room like rockets.
“Boys!” he hollers, and they freeze. “Y’all need to get dressed first. C’mon.” As Cash leads them from the room, I start cleaning up our mess.
I’m standing at the kitchen sink, up to my elbows in suds, scrubbing our dishes when I feel Cash come up behind me. He reaches around me, bringing his strong hands to rest on my bump. He drops an open-mouthed kiss to that sweet spot where my neck and shoulder meet. “Mmm,” I moan at the contact.
“Shh,” he warns as he peppers kisses up and down my neck while lightly caressing my belly.
“Can’t help it, Cash. When you lay your hands on me, I’m helpless to fight it.”
“Good,” he grunts, pressing his body closer to mine. I can feel the evidence of his desire for me, and I lean fully into him, tilting my head back against his chest.
He captures my lips in an aggressive kiss. “Need you, darlin’, so bad.”
Good God, his words have my heart soaring. This man . . . he makes me more than want it all—he makes me believe I can have it.
“Need you too.” I drag my wet, soapy hands from the water and place them over his on my belly.
Just as he moves to turn me in his arms, a male voice rings out from somewhere in the house. “Cashmere . . . OH, SHIT!”
We break apart, both of us panting. “Awesome timing, Jake.”
Ah, so this is his d-bag brother. Lovely. I can only imagine how this looks. I keep my eyes focused on the floor at his feet.
“This her?” his brother asks.
“Jesus Christ,” an unfamiliar female voice scolds, “Have some manners.”
“Yes, this is Myla Rose.” Cash wraps an arm around me. “Darlin’, this is my idiot brother, Jake, and his much better half, Paige.”
I finally look up, steeling myself for whatever may come. However, nothing could have prepared me for what came next. Instead of judgey looks and nasty glares, Paige draws me into a tight hug. “It is so nice to meet you, Myla Rose. We’ve heard only good things.”
“Sure enough, Cash never shuts up about you,” Jake adds, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “Also, guess I need to apologize for the texts you saw. That wasn’t me at my best.”
“Nowhere near your best,” Paige adds.
It would be so easy to stay mad, but if Cash is gonna be in my life the way I hope he is, then I need to be able to forgive and forget. Deep down, I know he meant no harm.
Stepping back from Paige’s embrace, I address him. “It’s already forgotten, and I’m really glad to meet y’all both. And your boys—they’re absolutely precious.”
Paige beams and asks me if I know what I’m having. She and I fall into easy conversation while Cash and Jake head out back to get the twins.
I’m not sure how long Paige and I have been in the living room chatting, but I adore her. She’s everything right and good in this world, and despite our gaping age difference, I can easily see us grabbing lunch and whatnot.
“Honey, you ready?” Jake calls as he, Cash, and the twins file into the room.
“MOM!” Preston and Lucas yell as they both rush over to Paige, wrapping their tiny arms around her.
“Hey, sweet peas, I missed y’all.” I can hear her love for them, and it really hits it home the fact that this’ll soon be me, telling my boy sweet things.
“We missed you too, Mom, but Princess Myla is AWESOME! She cutted our hair, and played with us at the beach, and she spended the night too!”
Oh, Jesus. They’re going to think I’m some kind of two-bit whore, having spend-the-nights when their children are here.
“Oh, yeah?” Jake asks through a snort. “Getcha a little brown chicken—” Paige smacks a hand over his mouth just as Preston says, “No, Dad, we had pizza!” At that, we all laugh. From the mouths of babes.
“Okay, boys, time to go. Y’all head on out to the car. I’ll grab their stuff.” She stands and sets off toward the spare bedroom, still chuckling.
When she returns, Cash swoops in and grabs the boys’ stuff from her and carries it out. My belly dips—such a damn gentleman.
“Paige, it was so nice to meet y’all, and please know that nothing inappropriate happened last night. I fell asleep on the—”
She cuts me off. “Even if something did happen, y’all are grown. No harm, no foul. Now, give me your number, and I’ll text you about setting up a girls’ day.” I fire off my number and in turn save hers before hugging her bye.
I swear, Cash’s family is almost as amazing as he is. I smile to myself, thinking that Grams would approve for sure.
“What else you got going on today?” Cash asks as he drops down beside me on the couch.
“Hmm, not really sure. Probably laundry.”
“Living the life, huh, darlin’?”
“You know it.” I can’t help the smile that stretches wide across my face. Being here with him, discussing mundane, everyday things . . . it just feels right. Like it’s where I’m supposed to be. He gives me this sense of belonging I’ve never felt with anyone else.
“Well, my day isn’t gonna be any more exciting than yours. Gotta clean up from Preston and Lucas. Then, I’ll probably head down to my shop and get prepped for the week.”
“Need help cleaning up?”
“I mean, shit, darlin’, if you’re offering . . .” His smirk leads me to believe cleaning is the last thing on his mind.
“Yeah, Cash, I am.” And maybe it’s the last thing on mine too.
The moment the words pass my lips, it’s as if time stops. Cash is like a statue—totally unmoving. His eyes are molten, pinning me in place as they search mine, making sure we’re on the same page. Lifetimes pass, or maybe it’s seconds. He must find the answer he’s looking for, because all at once, he lunges toward me, plunging his hands into my hair as he lays me back onto the couch.
His lips meet mine, and I swear—I swear—this man was made for me, to be mine. Our kiss is frenzied, more teeth than tongue, but it’s perfect. It’s passionate. It’s us.
“You sure?” he pants, pushing his hips into mine.
“A hundred and ten percent,” I whisper-moan.
“We do this, you’re mine, darlin’.”
“I’m already yours, Cash.”
Just like that, we’re a flurry of limbs, pulling at one another’s clothes until there’s nothing between us. The feel of him, of his skin, has me drunk—floating, flying . . . falling.
Cash stops, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and one under my legs, and he lifts me from the couch like it’s nothing. “Where’re we going?” I pant.
“Want you here, darlin’,” he tells me as he gently sets me on his bed. He stands at the end of the bed, staring at me like I’m the most precious thing. Like I’m delicate and fragile, but I’m not. I want his rough side. I need it.
“I’m not gonna break, Cash,” I tell him as he gently runs his strong hands up and down my calves.
“I know that, Myla.” He places a soft kiss to my right calf and then another to my left thigh. He pauses, level with my belly button, and holds my eyes before placing a soft kiss on my rounded belly. “That’s mine too.” I swear, this man, he is so much more than I could’ve ever hoped for.
He drops small kisses all along my chest and neck before finally making it back to my lips. He groans as he pushes into me, and oh, my stars . . . I know that I’m ruined for any other man. Cash is using his body to take mine to places I’ve never been. With every shift and every thrust, this man is moving heaven and earth, all for my pleasure.
“Never felt this good, darlin’.”
“No. Never,” I whine as I fall apart beneath him, all shuddered breaths and soft moans.
“Goddamn, Myla, so good,” he growls, following after me.