Rebel Desire by Farlow LK

Author:Farlow, LK
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-05-28T16:00:00+00:00

23

Colton

I sit with my son on my lap, holding him tightly to me as I rock us back and forth, murmuring in his ear all the while about how much I love him and how much better my life is with him in it. I don’t have a clue of how much time passes as I reassure my boy that he’s safe and wanted and so fucking loved.

At some point, Ashley joins us, rubbing Cruz’s back as his tears—happy ones now—ebb. On every down pass, her fingers brush mine, and with every brush, a sense of rightness fills me. Cruz was spot on when he said she was our family—the question now is—in what capacity?

The three of us stay on the floor until Cruz’s tears give way to sleep. Poor dude tired himself out with all those big emotions.

“Do you want me to carry his stuff down or…” Ashley trails off.

“Or what?” The words come out as a challenge, but I’m genuinely curious as to what she may offer.

“Or you could stay?” She says the words slowly, before rushing to add, “for dessert. Cruz and I made brownies!”

I lick my lips. “Mmm. You’ll never hear me turn down brownies. Where do you want me to put him?”

“You can put him in my bed if you want? That way we can watch a movie or—was that presumptuous, for me to think you’d want to stay that long?”

I’d love to tell her nothing’s presumptuous when it comes to her, but that would be inappropriate. Instead, I smirk and say, “A movie sounds fine.”

“Second door on the right,” she calls over her shoulder on her way to the kitchen.

I stand carefully, as to not wake Cruz, and head back to Ashley’s bedroom. Stepping into her bedroom is overwhelming—it’s like having Ashley on every side of me, the space is so intrinsically her.

From her scent hanging in the air to the deep teal accent wall, this space is all Ashley. Her bed, a massive golden, canopy-style bed—minus the actual canopy—sits centered on the accent wall. It’s topped with the thickest comforter I’ve ever seen, cream in color and feather soft.

With one hand, I knock a few of the five-hundred decorative pillows to the floor before laying Cruz down onto the bed. He hums contentedly in his sleep, immediately rolling to his side as his little body sinks down into the mattress. A charcoal throw blanket is artfully arranged at the foot of her bed; I use it cover Cruz, tucking him in before pressing a kiss to his forehead.

I know I should head back out to the living room, but the urge to explore has me rooted to the floor. My feet propel me toward the small coral-colored dresser in the corner.

“What am I doing?” I mutter to myself. Even as I question my own sanity, my hands tug on the pull of the top drawer, sliding it open, revealing to me a pile of tangled lace and silk. In all my life, I’ve never rifled through a woman’s things, much less have I ever had the urge.

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