Page 35 of Forbidden Dreams

“But, Mom,” Wyatt complains.

“I’m going to finish breakfast,” I tell her. “You are going to sit on that stool.” I point at where I left her coffee. “You are going to eat a couple of pancakes unless you want eggs.” I look over my shoulder and take her in for a second. My heart squeezes in my chest. “Then you are going to go take a long overdue nap.”

“But—”

“Do you want me to carry you to that stool?” I ask. She must sense I mean business, so she walks over to it, pulls it out, and sits next to Wyatt.

“Good morning.” She leans in and kisses his head. “Why are you up so early?”

He shrugs and doesn’t answer her. “I had to pee,” he states.

“He’s only been up for ten minutes,” I tell her, and her eyebrows go up.

“It’s a good thing I got back when I did, or else he’d be going to Disney next,” she jokes, grabbing her cup of coffee and making me laugh.

“That’s for next time.” I wink at her, and she just shakes her head as I plate one pancake on each plate and put them down in front of them. “Eat, and then we can go and swing by Charlie’s place to grab some fishing stuff.”

“Okay,” Wyatt agrees before grabbing the maple syrup and pouring so much on it’s a wonder he can even taste the pancake. He ends up eating four pancakes, and Harmony gets up to cut him some fruit. “But I’m full.”

“That will soak up all that sugar,” she tells him, “or else you’ll feel sick at the lake.” He looks at the fruit and then at me.

“Eat up, buddy,” I take her back, “then go wash up.”

“Fine,” he huffs, and then I look back at Harmony, who shares a smile with me. Wyatt finishes his fruit, pushing away from the counter, leaving behind drops of syrup.

“Do not touch anything until you get into the bathroom,” Harmony instructs him as he tries to get all the syrup off his face with his tongue. “You need a shower.”

“Okay,” he says, bouncing out of the room and heading upstairs, and the minute he does, I know what this house has always needed. Him. Him and his mother.

Only when I hear the bathroom door slam do I look over at her. “How was the delivery?” I ask, and she nods.

“No one followed me.” She picks up her cup of coffee, finishing it off. “I dropped off the cakes and got back all in one piece.” I nod at her.

“Are you okay with me taking Wyatt fishing?” I walk around the counter to sit next to her on the other side, where Wyatt sat.

I pull her stool closer to me as she looks at me. “I just don’t want you to feel like you need to take him out.”

“Baby”—every time I call her that, without fail her face goes soft—“you need to rest.” I push her hair off her shoulder toward her back, leaving her neck exposed. “And you aren’t going to do that if we’re home.” She doesn’t argue with me. “Also, you need to call Ryleigh and give her the heads-up.”

“But it’s Sunday,” she reminds me. “I don’t want to interrupt her on a Sunday.”

“Text her,” I counter. “Now.”

“Wow.” She pulls her phone out of her back pocket, typing in something on her phone, her eyes not looking at me. “Were you always this pushy?”

“Nope,” I answer her, “never had the need to be.” I move my head closer to hers, and her eyes come back to meet mine. “Except now.”

Her hand drops her phone on the counter as she puts it on my cheek, bending to kiss my lips. “Thank you.” My tongue slides into her mouth, the sweetness from the pancakes on her tongue. I don’t want the kiss to get out of hand, especially with Wyatt upstairs, but the minute her tongue touches mine, I want to drag her onto my lap and make the kiss last longer.

“You’re going to have to stop that,” I warn her. “The last thing Wyatt needs is to see me with a hard cock.”

Her cheeks turn pink as her eyes widen, and she looks down at my shorts. “Yeah, let’s not do that.” She pushes away from the counter. “Now, I’m going to get everything cleaned here,” she tells me. “You go get dressed.”

“And you call me pushy?” I get up from my stool on my way to her as she turns the water on in the sink. “You have to promise me something.” I’m about to talk to her when her phone rings from the counter.

She walks over to it and looks at me. “It’s Ryleigh,” she whispers and looks up at the ceiling.

“Answer it.” I move to the hallway, but not out of the kitchen, to make sure I stop Wyatt if he comes down.