He raised his brows. “It’s not?”

She looked to his brows, then back to his eyes, hers were dancing. “It’s not my fault you’re so hot, generally, but also being that in bed so I have to take care of business at the very thought of you if you’re away.”

“Abstain.”

She giggled.

He did not.

She lifted a hand to stroke his cheek, whispering playfully, “You can handle it.”

She gasped as he pulled her off his cock, turned her, put her in bed on her back, and followed her down, giving her a good amount of his weight.

“How playful you feelin’, beautiful?” he asked quietly.

“I may,” she kept whispering, “need a nap before I get more playful.”

He slid a hand down her side, in, and used his fingertips to stroke the skin of where her panty line at her front would be if she was wearing panties.

“Sure about that?”

Her whisper was breathy when she replied, “I might be coaxed into continuing to be playful.”

He hid his grin by kissing her.

After he finished kissing her, he started doing other things to her.

He didn’t stop even when, after he’d just started, she turned her head and said in his ear, “So glad you’re home, Snooks.”

That earned her another kiss.

As well as other things.

Which meant he was glad he was home too.

But he’d already felt that earlier when he walked in her back door and Chief had come sailing across the floor and hit his boot.

And then she’d walked out in her phenomenal dress.

But mostly it was after she did that.

Which was when she’d smiled.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Anything We Could

Millie

THE DOORBELL RANG and I opened my eyes.

“Fuck,” Logan said from behind me right before he rolled away and I felt him continue to roll as he rolled out of bed.

I twisted his way and peered at him through the predawn dark.

“Someone’s at the door,” I informed him of something he obviously knew, considering he was at the side of the bed pulling on his boxer briefs.

“Yeah,” he muttered.

I looked to the (new) alarm clock, then back to him. “At six in the morning.”

Due to Logan’s extreme dislike of alarm clocks, and his contribution to my morning (and household) routine, I’d adjusted the alarm so it didn’t wake us up before six but at six thirty.

With Logan making coffee, bringing me coffee, bringing me cereal or toasted, schmeared bagels, feeding and watering the cats and going out to jack up the thermostat in my studio and making coffee there, I had more time in the morning.

Not to mention doing other things that just gave me more time in my day. Like taking out the trash, getting in the groceries (he had no aversion to the grocery store and my groaning fridge and cupboards laid testimony to this fact), loading and emptying the dishwasher, nabbing my mail (both personal and office), and dropping it at a post box (even going to the post office if something needed special treatment).

It was now the Thursday after Logan’s weekend with his girls. He and I were getting into a rhythm. And this was part of our rhythm.

A happy part.

But there was more.

Like Logan noticing the light switch that turned on the lights to the kitchen by the living room didn’t quite catch unless you had the patience to flip it half a dozen times. So he’d gone to his RV, collected his box of tools, brought it back, opened the plate, and fixed the switch (then left his tools in my laundry room).

Like Logan noticing the spray function on my kitchen faucet didn’t work right. So he’d fiddled with it for a while, couldn’t fix it, then went out and bought a new faucet (that was not the same as the old one but it was even more awesome).

When he got back with the faucet, he didn’t screw around. Right then, he installed it.

These were things I’d lived with. Things I’d repeatedly told myself I was going to mention to Alan and ask him to fix or find a handyman to fix them. Things I always forgot to bother with then kicked myself when they came to my attention and annoyed me because I hadn’t bothered with them.

Things Logan noted weren’t working and he immediately fixed them.

In ways that I hadn’t noticed, life was kind of a bummer, having to do these things myself, I didn’t miss how the additional ways having Logan back made life not a bummer.

And it was strange, since back when we were together he didn’t do any of this stuff. He might take out the trash (if I asked). He might help me unload the dishwasher or do the dishes (if I asked). But mostly, I took care of him.

He took care of me, but not in those ways.

Now he was taking care of me in those ways.

There was something about this that made weird mix in with the wonderful because I knew that he was probably like this because when we used to be together, we were young and neither of us knew any better. We’d found our way, a way that worked, but maybe, looking back, it wasn’t the right way.

He’d learned to be that way through Deb and having a family.

You grew up, you grew smart, you had a partner, you made babies, you pitched in.

I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d had him all that time, since we couldn’t have a family of our own, if he’d have learned all this or if he’d have just gone on letting me take care of him (which might end up being a pain in the ass).

In other words, I wondered if I had Deb (and the girls) to thank.