Hooking Up With My Dad's Best Friend by Penny Wylder

Author:Penny Wylder [Wylder, Penny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-27T16:00:00+00:00

9

The rest of the week, Bryce and I are inseparable. Elle laughs at me and teases me every chance that she gets, but I know that she’s happy for me. I never knew I could be this happy. I love having Bryce home with me, going to sleep together and waking up together.

We fit into each other’s routines without much effort. He doesn’t come to the store with me every day, but stays at my house to make calls, or occasionally goes further into Boston to meet with his clients. But on the days he’s not in the corner chair reading, he’s outside the shop at closing time, ready to wrap me in his arms and make me forget any stress that I’ve gathered that day.

Even a few customers notice that I’m in good spirits, one of them commenting on how bright I am within Bryce’s hearing, and I swear that he has a smug smile on his face for the rest of the day.

And of course, there’s the sex. We can’t keep our hands off each other. He knows how to make my body sing like no other person ever has. And when I’m not at his mercy, we talk. We remember things from our separate points of view, and learn more about the things we never had a chance to talk about before.

And now, a week later, we’re in the car together back to Waterton for Marcy’s baby shower. I haven’t told my parents that I’m coming to town, which I know that he doesn’t approve of. But that’s something he doesn’t get to dictate, and he knows that. It’s the only asterisk to this happiness—the looming shadow of what might happen when my family finds out that we’re together.

And they will find out eventually.

They’ll have to, if we want this to be long term. And oh, fuck, I do. I want everything and more with Bryce. The last week has proved that everything I saw in him, everything I longed for, was accurate, and deeper than I could have imagined.

We’re holding hands across the center console, and I’m watching the foliage fly by when he speaks. “You’re quiet,” he says.

I smile. “I was just thinking about this week. How nice it’s been.”

He squeezes my hand, not needing to say anything else, and I lean back and close my eyes. It’s a five-hour drive to Waterton, and we’re barely half-way there. One of the reasons I don’t often go home. “Are you hungry?” Bryce asks, pulling off the highway. “We need gas, and there’s a great diner here.”

“I could eat something.”

Neither of us ate breakfast this morning. We slept in instead because we had a late night. Bryce decided he wanted to figure out which one of my vibrators was the most effective. That turned into a detailed evaluation process that involved his tongue and fingers, and me dissolving into a puddled mess of pleasure and orgasms.

My stomach growls as I think about food, and Bryce laughs. “Diner it is.

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