For The Love of Easton (For the Love Of #2) - A.M. Hargrove Page 0,35
a minute and then came back downstairs.
“Bye, Boppy. Bye Mimi.” She held out her arms and Dad swung her high in the air to a stream of giggles.
When they were both gone, she asked Tristian, “Can you swing me like Boppy?”
Before he could respond, I said, “Easton, why don’t you run upstairs for a minute?”
“I don’t wanna.” She crossed her arms and stood with her feet apart. Why, that little booger.
“Sometimes we have to do things we don’t want. Go on, because Mr. Tristian and I need to discuss some things. I’ll call you when we’re done. You can make us a pretty picture while you’re there.”
“Okay.”
That had been easier than I’d thought. We watched her scramble up the stairs. When the coast was clear, I said, “Thank you again for today.”
“It’s why I’m here. I wanted to see how things went.”
“Please, sit. Would you like a beer? Or something to drink?”
“No, thanks. I’m fine.”
I filled in the blanks for him on the meeting. “I don’t mind if you attend them. You know everything going on.”
“I only will if you want me there.”
“Moral support would be nice, especially since you’re my witness.”
“I should ask them about that. I’m in, you know that. Maybe I need to be in on the meetings.”
“Stacey was impressed, I can tell you that. I had to pick her eyeballs off the floor and cram them back into their sockets when she saw who the prosecuting attorney was.”
His deep laughter rang throughout the room. Easton ran to the top of the stairs and asked, “Mommy, are you done scussing?”
“Almost. I’ll come up and get you when we are.” I turned to Tristian, saying, “I think she’s more interested in seeing you than anything. She’s a nosy little thing.”
“Did she ever hear anything from that night?”
My hand covered my heart. “Gosh, no. She’s a heavy sleeper and also sleeps with a sound machine, thank God. That would’ve freaked her out to no end.”
He stared at my face, making me uneasy. My hands went to cover it. “Yeah, it still looks awful,” I said.
He moved them away. “No, I was going to say it looked so much better.” Then he brushed the back of his hand over my cheekbone and it was almost my undoing. I leaned into him and closed my eyes. “All I see is you in this room with his hands around your neck and it’s been making me lose my sanity.” Then his lips were on mine, softly at first. My hands rested on his chest and his mouth trailed kisses over my cheek, temple, jawbone, and down my neck. He smelled fresh, of the outdoors, and I didn’t want this to end. “You’re beautiful.”
A stilted chuckle popped out of me. “You’re too kind. And maybe a bit blind, me having a green face and all. I look like a Martian.”
“A perfectly gorgeous one. Besides, I’ve always loved science fiction.” A half-grin curved his mouth.
“Mr. Trishan kissed you,” a little voice said from the top of the stairs. Then we heard the smacking sounds she made with her mouth. The little snoop was spying on us.
Tristian and I looked at each other and I said, “Busted.”
Chapter Seventeen
Tristian
English would have my protection, regardless of the cost. Dark visions of that bastard’s hands squeezing the life out of her haunted me. I wouldn’t rest easy until he was sent to prison, no matter what the attorneys said.
I’d never been one much for kids, but little Easton was a pistol. Precocious didn’t begin to describe her. The other day when I was there, she’d caught me kissing her mom and then gone on to mimic us.
“Kissy, kissy.” Smack, smack. She kissed the air.
“Who taught you that?” I asked, filled with curiosity.
“The girls at school. They do that when they see a boy they want to kiss.”
“Six-year-olds want to kiss each other?” I asked English. Those days were too long past for me to remember.
“Apparently it’s a short-lived phase and then they hate boys for a while.”
“I certainly hope so. That’s entirely too early to show an interest in the opposite sex.”
“I agree and asked my parents. Mom said it was a passing fancy. She taught first grade so has a lot of experience.”
That was a relief on the short-lived boy interest.
“Mr. Trishan, do you love my mommy?”
“Easton, that’s not something you ask,” English scolded, but it didn’t faze Easton.