Page 18

TWELVE

GAGE

I’m at a point where if Ale breathes on me, I’ll probably bust a nut.

Ale has Zoe squared away and back in my lap before I can even make a move on her.

My daughter and I stare at each other and I silently tell her in my head that she needs to get it together and sleep so her dad can play with her nanny later tonight.

She grunts in my lap and if that’s any sign of her understanding, I’m fucked.

How’s a guy supposed to get laid around here?

Well, you're probably not supposed to be trying to fuck the nanny for one, because then she would be the one to watch the kid while you go get laid.

“Do you want yours on sandwich bread or with crackers?” I pull my head out of my ass and look over at Ale in the kitchen, trying to situate our lunch. The lunch that was forgotten while we basically had sex with clothes on.

I haven’t dry-humped someone since high school, but you know what? I’m not going to complain. Her hips fit perfectly in my hands and all I want now is to see her naked underneath me.

“Bread, please.” I choke out.

Snap out of it, Donovan.

Soon Zoe will be asleep... then we make our move.

It wouldn’t hurt to keep the fire going, though.

Getting up from the chair, with Zoe’s warm, tiny body resting on my shoulder, I tiptoe into the kitchen and silently approach Ale from behind.

With my arm around her waist, I lean in close, feeling the warmth of her body and the softness of her skin as I trail my nose up her neck, placing tender kisses as I do.

I’ll never get over the scent of her. I’m going to need it sprayed on a card to keep in my pack when I deploy. So I can always have her with me.

“Gage,” she mumbles, her breath catching as I kiss her cheek.

“This is all I’m doing.” Kiss. “Nothing else.” Another kiss. “I just want to hold you. I’ve never actually held someone like this before. So I’m soaking it in while I can.”

God, that must sound awful. Either she’s going to think I’m some emotionally unavailable asshole or just a typical fuckboy Marine that just wants to get his dick wet.

But that’s not it at all. I practically raised myself as a child and with my dad being gone all the time, I never saw what a happy relationship looked like.

It was my mother alone, raising me twenty-four seven, and then when he was home, it was him grilling me about school or sports and joining the Marines when I graduated.

I don’t think I ever saw my parents hug, let alone kiss each other, with the exception of when he would first come home from a deployment.

“Tell me about your family. You mentioned you lost your father last year. What about your mother?” Ale swallows and nudges me back a little so she can turn around.

“My mother died a year after I moved to the States. She had an aggressive form of breast cancer and didn’t make it, even with the treatment. My younger brother and sister live with my aunt in Guadalajara.” Her eyes get all glassy, like she’s going to cry, and I lean in and kiss her forehead.

“I’m sorry about your parents, Ale. That’s fucking awful, and now you support your siblings financially by yourself?

” I ask, knowing that she probably does.

That’s a lot for someone to deal with on their own.

I know she said that they live with family, but still.

Taking all the financial burden is a lot for a twenty-five-year-old.

“Yeah. Pedro’s almost eighteen, so pretty soon it will just be supporting my sister. She’s fifteen.” She turns back around to grab the plates, so I lean back into her.

“You’re incredible, Ale,” I say softly, my voice filled with genuine admiration. “Taking care of your siblings like that is something not everyone can do. I appreciate you. You caring for Zoe means everything to me.”

A wistful smile tugs at the corners of her lips, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Thank you. If I didn’t take care of my siblings, who else would? And I love Zoe as if she were my own. I feel so connected to her already.” She bumps into my groin to get me to move back, and I groan.

Keep it together.

We stare at each other while she goes to set the plates on the table, then comes to take Zoe from me. “I’ll hold her so you can eat.”

I keep a hold of Zoe and shake my head. “Nah, I’ll hold her. You sit and eat.” Reaching out and taking her hand, pulling her into my chest, the warmth and softness of her skin grounding me. “You don’t have to do it alone, you know.”

She looks at me, her gaze is both vulnerable and hopeful. Right now, I realize just how much I want to be there for her. How much I want her to be here to do this with me, raising Zoe and everything.

“I don’t want to burden you with my problems,” she whispers, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “It’s not like I’m your wife or girlfriend. My problems aren’t your problems, Gage.”

She’s defensive and I can understand why, knowing how shit is in the world, people would probably look at us and judge our relationship.

But I don’t fucking care what other people think.

I gently brush a strand of hair away from her face, my touch gentle and reassuring.

“You’re not a burden, Ale. Your struggles are part of who you are, and I want to be there for you.

And regardless of what this is or what we are, I want you to feel comfortable enough to tell me anything. ”

I mean it too.

“Okay, enough with the heavy shit. Can we eat? I am starving and I just know I’m going to be kept up tonight, so I need some food in my system.” She sits down and digs into her sandwich, and all I can think about is how true that statement is.

If it’s not Zoe keeping her up. It’s going to be me.

My child hates me. That has to be it, right? She hasn’t let Ale put her down for hours now, and whenever she tries to, it’s straight screaming. The kid’s got a set of lungs on her.

Ale is handling it with such grace and understanding, and it’s honestly why I think she’s a goddamn saint.

She has the experience and I’m just over here, knowing not a fucking thing.

I stand at the nursery door watching her rock Zoe in the glider, singing to her in Spanish, whispering things to her to get her to calm down.

The things a mother would do for her child.

It makes me think back to earlier when she said she wasn’t my wife or my girlfriend.

She’s right, but she is the only mother my daughter has and whatever these feelings we have for each other are only getting stronger.

Girlfriend seems like such a childish term at this point in my life.

I’m a thirty-year-old single father with a newborn daughter.

Marriage seems like it might be pushing it.

Why the fuck can’t there be a middle ground?

Not that I don’t think Ale is wife material.

I fucking do and if I didn’t have my hang-ups about relationships and if she was down for it.

I’d marry her in a heartbeat. It would make things easier for the both of us, with me being active duty.

Zoe would have a mom and legally, things would be taken care of.

Get to know her better first, Donovan. And not just in bed.

Ale’s tired eyes meet mine, and a faint, weary smile touches her lips.

“ Sorry,” she mouths, her eyes wide with regret.

She has nothing to be sorry for. She doesn’t owe me anything.

I’m a big boy and can take care of myself if I need to, and she shouldn’t ever feel pressured to reciprocate in situations like this.

“You wanna switch off?” I motion back and forth between us. She silently laughs, mouthing a quick “ no. ”

That’s fair. Zoe’s finally looking relaxed and possibly asleep.

Why fuck that up?

I nod and gesture toward my room, and she nods in acknowledgment. I should have just told her to come to bed with me once Zoe’s down. Is that too much? I’ve never had a woman in this bed with me. Is it going to be too much?

I don’t know how long I sit on my bed mentally fucking myself up over all the ins and outs of whatever this is between us. All I know is that whatever she wants from this, whatever she’s willing to give, I’m down for. Even if she decides to just be Zoe’s nanny.

Fuck, I hope that’s not all she wants.

Pulling my shirt over my head and chucking it into the hamper, I decide to get comfortable for the night.

Because, let’s be real, it could be a while before Zoe actually lets Ale put her down.

I’m trying really hard not to think about her on top of me earlier.

Down to my boxer briefs, I pop in my headphones, hit one of my many playlists and start getting the bed ready, pulling the comforter and the sheets back.

Making sure there are plenty of pillows, I want to be prepared.

Prepared.

Fuck.

I drop the headphones on the nightstand and half-ass sprint to the bathroom— bad decision— and rip open my drawers one by one.

Fuck. Next drawer. Double fuck . Last drawer.

I’m officially the worst Marine on the planet.

Not a single condom. Some fucking Boy Scout I am.

I'm pretty sure our motto was “Always Prepared.” And prepared I am not. Shit.

I stare at myself in the mirror. It’s fine. This is fine.

What If I jerk myself off now, then if it gets to that point, I have more time to pull out, right?

Jesus, am I really considering the pull-out game? The newborn daughter I have in the other room being cared for by the nanny I’m contemplating fucking suggests that would be a terrible idea.

The door to the nursery quietly shuts and the sound of Ale’s bare feet padding down the hall towards my room has my heart rate going up. She’s coming to me. Oh shit. It’s on.

No, stop. No condom.

No condom means no fucking.

Think, Donovan. Use the head that actually has a brain.

My dick twitches. Hard pass.

“Gage?”