More Than I Could – Coming Home Read Online Adriana Locke

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 94903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
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“How was your day at work?” she asks.

“Same shit, different day. How was your day here? Did things go okay?”

“Yup. I did the laundry in the bathroom and mudroom. I folded it all and sorted it for you and Kennedy, but I didn’t want to put it away. It felt like an invasion of your privacy.”

I grin.

She leans next to me, the soft scent of jasmine taunting me, and grins too. “Wanna know something?”

“What?”

“I wanted to be nosy. I wanted to go in your room and put your things away so I could snoop around.”

I turn the water off and flick the water from my hands at her. She squeals as I grab a towel. My plan is to head to the table and wait on Kennedy. But like I’m on autopilot, I find myself at the sink again to be next to her.

“What do you think you’d find?” I ask.

“Something good, I hope.”

I chuckle. “Like what?”

She bites her lip. It takes everything in me not to pop it free and sink my mouth against hers.

But I don’t.

“Like what?” I ask again. “Whips? Chains? Handcuffs?”

Her eyes go wide.

I laugh. “I’m kidding.”

She sighs, and I’m unsure if she’s relieved or disappointed.

“Or am I?” I ask.

She shoves me, knocking me off balance. My chest bounces as I try not to laugh too loudly at her.

“You and I had an agreement,” she says, checking the doorway for Kennedy. “We were pretending this didn’t exist.”

“What didn’t exist?”

She looks at me like I’m ignorant.

“What are you talking about, Megan?” I grin mischievously, lowering my mouth to her ear. “Oh, right. We were pretending I don’t want to taste your pussy.”

She bats at my arm. I pull away, laughing way too hard.

“You just brought that up,” she says, pointing at me. “Not me. I’ve not broken our deal.”

“Semantics, sweetheart.”

She blushes at the term of endearment—the one I didn’t mean to say. Instead of recanting the word, I act like I don’t realize I said it.

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Semantics, my ass. I didn’t say a word.”

“Oh, come on. Like you weren’t thinking it.”

“But I didn’t say it.”

You didn’t have to. I roll my eyes. “I just came home from work. You’re the one speculating about what’s inside my bedroom. I won’t see an imprint of you on my bed, will I?”

She looks surprised. Slowly, the surprise turns into a mischievous grin. “No, but that would’ve been a damn good idea. Make you lie in bed all night wondering what I did on your blankets.”

Well, that would be a slight deviation from wondering what I’d do to you on my blankets.

“Here it is,” Kennedy says loudly, marching into the room. “Don’t be pissed.”

“There’s always tomorrow,” Megan whispers before returning to the enchiladas.

I want to say something back and deal with the heat building in my groin, but a detention notice is thrust into my hands. Nice cock block.

“Here’s the thing,” Kennedy says, hands on her hips. “I was there. I didn’t skip class.”

“Ken, please. Don’t lie to me.”

Her jaw drops. “I was there, Dad. I mean it. I was as shocked as you are when I got that today.”

“After this exact conversation last week, I find that hard to believe.”

“Dad.”

“I thought we were getting somewhere. I thought you were going to do better.”

“I am doing better. Why don’t you believe me?”

Suddenly, my exhaustion from the day settles back into my bones.

Arguing with my daughter isn’t going to help. If it would, one of the last sixteen hundred arguments about this would’ve cured the problem. And if that were the case, I would also know what the problem is—why she’s testing every nerve I have left.

Megan smiles softly. I imagine she’s grateful she doesn’t have to deal with this longer than a month. I can’t blame her. It’s a lot.

But, it’s also everything.

I exhale and turn back to Kennedy. Her eyes plead with me, her bottom lip beginning to quiver. She looks like the little girl she once was, and I remind myself she’s still her. She’s just bigger, and her life is more complicated.

Glancing at Megan, my insides twist.

Maybe my life is a bit more complicated too.

“Let’s eat,” I say, putting an arm around Kennedy’s shoulders. “Then we’ll talk about it.”

“Really?”

I kiss the top of her head. “Really.”

Kennedy wraps her arms around my waist and hugs me.

“Whoa, wait. I’m filthy,” I say, pushing her back. “I need to grab a shower.”

She hugs me even tighter.

Megan smiles and turns back to the oven.

The feeling of contentment catches me off guard. And it scares the shit out of me.

This is something I could get used to.

Get over it, Marshall. She’ll be gone before you get used to anything.

And that’s the way it should be.

Chapter Seventeen

Megan

“Look at you,” Gavin says, dropping into the seat across from me. “You’re one week in, and you’re alive.”


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