Home > Kiss the Stars(34)

Kiss the Stars(34)
Author: A.L. Jackson

Her small son was tucked to her side, pointing his finger like mad at the mess of kids down on the beach, wanting to take part.

A literal handful as she struggled to keep ahold of him.

Hadn’t seen her since last night.

Not since I was touching her and tasting her and making a litany of mistakes.

But with her, I wasn’t sure how to stop it. How to stop the consuming intrigue that hit me every single time she got in my space.

No different today than it was yesterday except for now I had the distinct memory of knowing exactly how good she felt.

“Aww . . . look who is up from his nap. Come see Auntie, my handsome little man,” Tamar cooed, moving to Mia and taking Greyson from her arms.

Mia rolled her eyes. “Up from his nap? He never went down. I swear, Greyson can smell fun, and if he thinks he’s going to miss a minute of it, he’s going to find his way back to it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to miss out on an afternoon at the beach, either. Can you blame him?” Tamar asked with her lips pressed against his chubby cheek.

He giggled and planted a sloppy kiss on her chin. “No blame me, Auntie TT!” Something tugged at my chest. Kid was cute, that was for sure.

“Get ready, this deliciousness is done!” Ash began to pile the chicken breasts onto a platter. “Time to eat, my love bugs!” Ash shouted toward the beach. “Come and get it while it’s hot.”

Badass rockstar, all right.

Shea headed back inside to get the rest of the sides, and Mia volunteered to help.

Sparing me a moment.

A second to get it together.

Impossible because she was back just a minute later, organizing the sides on the sidebar where plates and utensils were already waiting.

“Beer is in the fridge,” Lyrik told me, smacking me on the upper back as I stood there staring at his sister from behind, guy cutting me a glance as he passed telling me he was calling bullshit.

That he was fully aware that I was watching.

All eyes on her.

Couldn’t turn away.

But he didn’t get it.

Didn’t get that looking any closer would be the destruction of me. Worst was it would most assuredly be the destruction of her.

I cleared my throat and followed him over to the outdoor kitchen fridge that was stocked with drinks. I grabbed a beer, popped the cap, and drained half of it in one gulp.

Hoping it might calm the nerves racing through my body.

Mia made her children’s plates, balancing two of them while Tamar tried to get Greyson into a high chair at one of the patio tables. He cried and kicked his legs and shouted, “I big, I big. No, Auntie, no!”

The rest of the kids barreled back up the steps, herded by Austin and Edie.

Tamar finally wrangled Greyson into his seat and strapped him in. “There.”

I roughed a hand over my face.

Feeling like I was sinking.

Drowning.

Washed away in a tsunami without even knowing it’d hit.

Didn’t belong here.

Not for a second.

But Mia was trying to gather napkins and utensils for her kids while balancing their plates, and I was moving that way without thought, offering to take the plates from her as she attempted to tuck the silverware under her arm without dumping their food out onto the floor.

“Let me help you.” My voice was a grumble. Some kind of fucked up plea.

Those eyes really met mine for the first time. Hurt and begging for more.

She hesitated.

“Please,” I said.

She breathed out a tiny, pained sound, one that trickled across my flesh and hit me like a song.

A hypnotic melody that implored to be written.

“Thank you,” she whispered as she handed over the plates.

“No problem.”

No problem at all.

It was just a goddamned catastrophe.

I followed her over to the table were the kids had set up camp. Each of them climbed onto the cushioned chairs around the large table. Plates were set in front of the younger children, each of them exclaiming their thanks.

All except for Greyson who smashed a handful of his macaroni and cheese in my face the second I set it down on his high-chair tray.

Bullseye.

Apparently, I actually was the kid’s target.

He shrieked with laughter and kicked his feet, his nose all scrunched up with his amusement. “Got you, Waif. I got you!”

I edged back, trying to wipe the mess from my cheek.

“Oh,” Mia breathed when she whirled around and saw what her kid had done, her fist flying to her mouth before a smile was splitting behind it. “Oh, God.”

I cocked my head, raking a gob of it off. “You think that’s funny, huh?”

“I do,” Brendon popped off, throwing his hand in the air like we were asking for his opinion.

Smart ass.

I tossed him a scathing glare, the little punk.

Just like his dad. Calling bullshit.

Mia passed me a napkin, words falling from around her barely contained laughter, “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe he did it again.”

I wiped the stickiness away, fighting a chuckle building in my chest. “Kid hates me.”

“No, way, Waif.” His brown eyes widened and his brows shot to the sky. “I wike you.” He grinned like he was posing for a picture. All teeth.

“Bite?” He scooped a big glob of it onto his spoon and held it up to me, clumps of it dripping off the huge mound and falling to the ground, way too eager for me to comply.

“Eat!” he demanded with the most massive, hopeful grin.

My eyes fell to Mia. Her expression was soft as she looked down at her kid in sheer adoration.

And shit. I was a damned fool. Such a fool because I was leaning down and taking the bite he offered, pretending like I was gobbling it up.

And it hurt and it slayed and it busted me wide open again.

Pulling back, I swallowed hard and pinned on the brightest smile I could find. Probably looked like the Joker.

Deranged.

Unhinged.

Crazed.

Greyson howled with laughter.

“My turn! Watch me!” He shoveled a heaping spoonful of it into his mouth. “I share, Momma.”

He turned his face up toward her, looking for praise.

“That is very nice of you. But no more throwing food because that isn’t nice.” She tapped his nose with the last.

“I nice,” he refuted, and God, I was going to lose my mind.

Already had, apparently, because Tamar had shown up at the table and set Adia’s plate down in front of her. “Why don’t you two make your plates. I’ll get these guys set.”

Mia’s mouth pulled at one side and her eyes narrowed when something played across Tamar’s red lips. A silent conversation transpired between the two of them that clearly had everything to do with me.

Awesome.

“Are you hungry?” Mia finally asked, shifting that gaze to me. There went my blood, traveling south, and not to my growling stomach.

“Starved.”

She offered the smallest smile and an even smaller nod.

I thought maybe a truce.

A free pass.

She was going to let me off on the bullshit I’d pulled last night.

“We should eat, then. If we don’t, Ash will never let us hear the end of it.”

“Damn right, I won’t,” he hollered from across the deck.

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