Perfect Embrace by Kaylee Ryan

Chapter 6

Grayson

As soon as we pull into the driveway, the girls are unbuckling from their car seats and literally bouncing at the thought of Laken coming to make brownies with them.

“Wait until the truck is off before you open the door,” I remind them.

“Hurry, Daddy!” they exclaim in harmony.

I slow to a crawl just to mess with them. “Daddy,” Harlow whines.

“Faster!” Hayden demands.

I can’t help but laugh as I park my truck and turn off the engine. They move to the door and start to climb out. “Wait for me,” I tell them. Reaching in, I hit the garage door opener before closing my door. My truck is too long to fit, but going into the house through the garage keeps the house cleaner. The girls know to kick off their shoes in the laundry room, and that door stays unlocked, so if someone has to potty, we can race inside quickly without incident. I learned that one the messy way. After a few accidents, you learn to make adjustments.

“We’re big girls, Daddy. We’re this many.” Harlow raises four fingers in the air.

“Yeah,” Hayden echoes.

Biting my cheek to hide my smile, I lift them from the truck, and they take off, sprinting for the front door. “Where are you going? We have nail polish to tend to,” I call after them.

“We hafta cwean our room!” one of them yells back. Is it bad that they also sound so much alike that sometimes even I can’t tell them apart unless they are right in front of me?

Grabbing the bag of cotton swabs and fingernail polish remover, I head into the house. I opt to leave the garage door open. Laken will be here in the next hour or so, and it’s going to be hard to keep the girls contained. I’ll be able to keep them in the garage until Laken is parked. After that, all bets are off.

Placing the bag on the kitchen counter, I take a look at the house. The kitchen is clean, and the living room is picked up. I did it all last night when I got home and was too amped up to sleep. It felt good to hold Laken in my arms, even if I was just carrying her up to her apartment. It’s been just over three years since I’ve held a woman in my arms. It’s been the same amount of time since I’ve been with a woman.

It’s not because I’m harboring some sort of faithfulness to my late wife. I know that Holly is gone, and I know she would want me to move on. I’d like to think I will someday. However, right now, raising twin girls on my own and being promoted to fire chief, well, that doesn’t leave a lot of time left for dating.

Not only that, but this is Mason Creek, and everyone knows everyone. I already have the old ladies in town trying to fix me up with their granddaughters. Many of which are way too damn young for me. I just haven’t felt like bringing someone around the girls was a good thing. They’re young and so damn impressionable and full of questions.

I’m just not ready.

Yet, I still told Laken she could come over. Part of me didn’t want to disappoint my daughters. There’s an even bigger part that wanted to spend some time with her. My girls will be there, and they already know her. They adore her, if the last week has shown me anything. It’s not a big deal. Just being neighborly and all that.

My phone rings, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Hey,” I greet Ryder. “How’s Olivia?”

“Pissed that she asked me to take her home last night.”

“Did you stay the night?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Fuck, man. I couldn’t leave her there alone that drunk. What if she needed something?”

I don’t answer, and I know he doesn’t really want me to. Ryder and Olivia love one another, but they’re both too busy getting in their own way. “That’s tough, man.”

“That it is. What are you and the girls getting into tonight? I thought about swinging by.”

“We’re uh… shit,” I mutter. “The girls are making brownies.”

“You don’t bake.”

“Nope.”

“Your mom or Christine?” he asks.

“Neither.” I should have just let his call go to voice mail.

“So the twins are just going to learn how to bake on their own?”

“No.”

“Come on, man, help me out here. What’s going on?”

“Fine,” I concede. “I might have run into Laken at the market. And somehow, it ended up with the girls helping her make brownies. Brownies that were intended for me as a thank-you for getting her and Leni home last night.”

He whistles, and that alone pisses me off and makes me wish I would have just kept my mouth shut. “So, what? Laken’s coming over?”

“She is.”

“When?”

“Within the hour.”

He’s quiet for several long seconds that feel like a lifetime. “You doing okay?”

His question catches me off guard. “Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Come on, Gray. This is the first woman you’ve had around the girls intentionally, and she’s coming to your house. That’s a big fucking deal.”

“It’s not,” I lie. “It’s her being nice to the girls. Mom takes them to her bookstore once a week, and they’ve grown fond of her. They asked her if they could help when they saw brownies in her cart, and she volleyed the answer to me. I couldn’t tell them no.”

“You’re their father. It’s your job to tell them no.”

“They don’t get to do these types of things. At least not unless it’s with my mom or Holly’s.” What I don’t say is that they don’t have their mom here to do these kinds of things with. And while my mom and Holly’s do so much for them, I have a feeling baking with Laken will be a completely different experience.

“All right, you know what you’re doing. At least I hope that you do.”

“Not even a little bit,” I confess, making him laugh.

“All right, well, call me later. I’m gonna need to hear how it goes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter. “I need to go check on the girls. They’re being really quiet, and they’re cleaning their room, so that usually means trouble.”

“How’d you con them into cleaning their room?” He’s obviously heard me complain about the mess my two angels make of their room. Mostly with clothes.

“That’s just it. I didn’t. Laken made a comment about being good and keeping their room clean so that she could come over. As soon as we pulled in, they ran to their room like their little asses were on fire. They’re afraid if it’s not clean, she won’t stay and bake with them.”

“Wow. Good motivation. Maybe you should make this a weekly thing? You know, Laken coming to visit.”

“You let me worry about me and my… visitors. You have enough on your plate.” It’s a dick move, and I regret it instantly. “Sorry, man. I’m out of my element here.”

“I get it. And you’re right. If my wife wasn’t so damn stubborn—” I can hear the frustration in his voice, which isn’t anything new, not when it comes to Ryder and Olivia.

“I feel for you, but I’m telling you sometimes you have to choose your battles. You love her, and she loves you. You two need to get past whatever it is and make it right.” This isn’t the first time I’ve given him this speech. I’m sure it won’t be the last.

“Call me later?”

“If I survive.” I chuckle.

“Oh, I have a feeling you’re going to more than survive. I’ll catch you later.” He ends the call before I can ask what he meant by that comment. I start to call him back and remember I need to check on the girls.

Sliding my phone into my back pocket, I make my way down the hall to the girls’ bedroom. Peeking inside the door, I see that the mess of clothes is somewhat cleaned up if you could call being shoved into dresser drawers and clothes baskets tidy. It’s clean for four year olds, that’s for sure.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

They both jump and stop to turn and look at me. “We need help,” Harlow huffs, pulling on her comforter.

“I think we need to be this many,” Hayden holds up her hand, displaying all five fingers, “to make beds.” She lets the top half of her body fall dramatically on the bed with a groan.

“You can’t give up,” I tell her. “You’ll never learn if you stop trying.”

“But I’m too wittle,” she huffs.

“Yeah, Daddy. We’re too wittle,” Harlow agrees.

“Life is not always easy. You have to keep pushing and working hard. No matter what you’re doing.” I’m trying to bestow some fatherly wisdom on them at their impressionable young age. Hell, if I know if it’s working.

“Yeah, but Miss Waken is coming, and if ours rooms not cwean, she might not cook the brownies,” Hayden argues.

“We weally wove bwonies, Daddy,” Harlow adds.

Bending my knees, I hold my arms out, and neither of them hesitates to come to me, wrapping their little arms around my neck. My heart swells just like it does every time I get even the smallest embrace from them. “Daddy has a secret.”

“We won’t tell,” Hayden assures me.

“We pwomise,” Harlow adds.

“Daddy loves brownies.”

They gasp. “Does Miss Waken wove them too?” Harlow asks.

“I don’t know, baby. I’m sure she does. Who doesn’t love brownies?”

“We hafta ask her,” Hayden announces.

“We can do that when she gets here. Right now, I need you to help me make your beds.” That’s all it takes for them to rush off to their respective bed and wait for me to help them make it. It ends up being all three of us making each bed because, if anything, my girls love to help. We’re just finishing placing Harlow’s stuffed animals on hers when there’s a knock at the door.

“It’s her!” they say in harmony and rush out of their room and down the hall.

“Wait for me!” I call after them.

When I reach the living room, Laken is standing at the door and giving my girls a stern look. “Did I not hear your daddy yelling for you to wait for him?” she asks them.

“But you’s not a stwanger, Miss Waken.”

“I might not be a stranger, but you never answer the door on your own. You never know who is going to be standing on the other side. It’s important that when your daddy makes rules that you listen to him.”

She’s so good with them. I’m sure I should be upset that she’s counseling my daughters, but they look up to her. That’s easy to see. If her little speech helps keep them safe, then I’m all for it.

“Sowwy,” they say at the same time.

“Hey,” I say, walking the rest of the way into the room. “Come on in.” The girls take that as their cue to push open the door for Laken to enter our home. This is the only home they ever remember living in. I sold the house that Holly and I were having built the minute that it was finished. I just couldn’t bring it in me to live there without her. Instead, I found this place on the market. It had been fully renovated and was more than enough space for me and the girls. We packed up our rental and moved in a few weeks later. Laken is officially the first woman to ever step inside who’s not related to my daughters or me.

“Are you ladies ready to make some brownies?” Laken holds up a bag full of supplies.

“So weady!” the girls cheer.

“All right then, lead the way to the kitchen.”

Jumping into action, I reach out and take the bag from her hands. “Thanks, Grayson,” she says softly before taking a hand of each of my daughters and letting them drag her to the kitchen.

I follow along behind them with the bag of supplies, doing my best not to watch her ass sway in those leggings she has on. I’m not sure who invented the first pair of leggings, but I can almost guarantee it was a man.

In the kitchen, I place the bag on the island as the girls climb up onto the stools. I keep them steady to make sure they don’t tip over.

“Okay, first things first. You can call me Laken. Miss Laken is very formal, and all of my closest friends call me Laken.” She smiles at my daughters.

“Waken,” they repeat.

“Perfect. Now. I’m going to need your daddy to help me out with the bowls and spoons and a measuring cup?” she asks, glancing up at me.

With that one look, something happens to me. There’s a flutter in my chest, and my cock twitches. It’s been over three years since I’ve felt attraction, and my cock decides that now, standing in my kitchen with my four-year-old twin daughters, is the best time to get back in the game.

“Grayson?” Laken asks.

I realize I’ve just been standing here staring at her. “Right.” I jump into action, showing her where everything is. “Just let me know if there is something else you might need.”

“I think we’re good. If you have something to do, yard work or laundry or whatever, we’ll be fine,” she assures me.

“Thanks. I might take you up on that.” There’s always something that needs to be done.

“No! Daddy, you hafta make dem wif us,” Hayden tells me.

“Yeah. You hafta help. What if we can’t weach?” Harlow asks.

Laken and I both smile at that one. “My mom always has me reach into the taller cabinets when I’m at my parents’ place. It never fails,” I explain to Laken.

“Well, then you better stick around.” Her smile lights up her face, and that same feeling in my chest makes itself known.

I should walk away. I could mow the lawn, or hell, do some weeding. It’s been over a week, and the yard is getting out of control.

I do neither.

Instead, I pull out another stool at the island and watch as Laken takes over my kitchen.