The Wild One: A Reverse Age Gap Romance (Wrench Kings Book 1) by Daisy Jane

Author:Daisy Jane [Jane, Daisy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-09-19T18:30:00+00:00

With Jett on my hip and hot water boiling on the stovetop, my hair wet and uncombed, all the lights in the house on, and Jett needing a bath–I’m so not ready for this at-home date.

“Bo!” Jett harrumphs as he tangles his pear-covered hand in my freshly clean hair.

“No, Jetty, mama just washed her hair!” I grimace as I slide my locks from his grip.

“Bo!” he yells again. I boop his nose, taking a steadying breath. If I start this date hectic, my energy will be off all night. I lower him to the floor, and smooth my clean hand through his hair.

“Yes, Beau is coming over.”

“Ma-ma-Bo,” Jett says, stringing three syllables together in the closest construct he’s ever come to a full sentence.

“Mama likes Beau. Mama loves Jett,” I say to him, but his eyes are glazing over as they catch sight of the cartoon characters flickering on the television. I may not curse in front of my son, but I’m not the type that thinks a little cartoons will kill him.

“A few minutes and we’re getting you in the bath,” I tell him as I drift around the corner, twisting off the burner on the cooktop. I’m finger-combing the pear tangle from my wet hair when a knock comes at the door.

In my chaos of flying around this place trying to get ready for this date, I’d flipped the lock so that Beau could let himself in if need be.

I left it unlocked for him, and even though I swallowed his cum last night, leaving the front door open for him feels more trusting that anything I’ve had with a man in a long, long time.

“It’s open,” I call out, and as soon as the front door opens, Jett scoots around to face it.

My eyes fall on a very handsome Beau, wearing dark blue jeans and a black button-up, black boots on his feet. His leather jacket is draped over one arm, and his dark hair is shoved back casually, a little damp, too, like he just showered.

From my spot across the room, I can smell his spicy, amber scent as he tosses his jacket across the couch and falls to a kneel in front of Jett.

“Jetpack,” he says, scooping my son up. They fall back together, with Beau’s back on my couch, Jett gripping Beau’s cheeks delightedly.

“Bo!” he cries triumphantly before falling into a steady rhythm of “cha-cha-cha-frrrp–frrrp.” Then, he blows bubbles, and I watch with hazy eyes and a wide smile as Beau smiles at Jett. His large hand holds carefully at the back of Jett’s spine, and his other stays up, hovering around Jett’s elbow, ready to grab him no matter which way he topples.

“Hi,” I say, and then he finally sees me. And I’m not even a little mad it took him a full minute to look.

“Hey,” he rasps, smoky and dark but not sexual. More… sated than anything. “You look beautiful.”

I look down at my off-the-shoulder Pirates of the Caribbean t-shirt that I got at Disneyland three years ago when I vacationed with Dustin.

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