You’re Mine by Penny Brooks

 Easton

 I went up the day before and made sure the Lakehouse was perfect for the girls, I set the temperature so they wouldn't freeze their asses off, and I made sure that the fridge was stocked with all their favorite drinks.

Truly's Champagne, Diet Coke, Bottled Water, and in the freezer, I dropped in some Gin and Whiskey.

I had a chef prepare one of the best meals I could think of.

Mac and Cheese.

But not just a normal Mac and Cheese—one that had like a billion different cheeses in it along with bacon and cream, and let's just say it should give them orgasms bite by bite.

I added in a whole bunch of appetizers and even made sure to get the projector so that we could watch a movie on the side of the house with the outdoor fire pit going as they hear the lake wash up against the shore.

It's going to be perfect.

And I can't fucking wait for her to see it now that we're finally here.

I've never gone to this extent during Valentine's, let alone any holiday, not even for my parents, best friend, nobody.

It's all about her.

Ryan's lucky as fuck that I'm letting him barge in.

Then again, he is my best friend, and I know I'll have Harper all to myself later.

Besides, she's happy with her girl around, which makes me happy, which makes us both happy when I get her to myself.

She might even thank me with her mouth before I fuck her with mine.

I smile to myself.

"Stop it."

Ryan shoves me a bit.

"Still, my sister."

"Oh please, like I didn't bring earplugs because Sadie keeps going, oh fuck me, fuck me, Ryan!"

He clears his throat and looks around the kitchen while the girls get into their sweats because fuck, the last thing they need is to get all ready and stressed out.

No, this is supposed to be relaxing as fuck.

"We gonna talk about the ass—"

"—Never.” I interrupt him.

"Cool, good, awesome."

Ryan nods his head.

I nod mine.

Awkward as hell.

before aimlessly wandering around the living room

A door opens.

I look up.

And there she is.

my soul,

Harper.

angry at myself, like legit want to run my head through a wall when I think about all

me sick because fuck, I

let myself be that

HATE

And I was him.

But now I'm hers.

it's better, but damn, that girl is beautiful,

a pair of black high—waisted sweatpants with a matching crop top sweatshirt, her hair is pulled back in a braid that

"Hey gorgeous,” I whisper.

"Hey handsome."

me, like literally skips from

I'm not trying to be insecure, but damn, this person is my person,

"You happy?"

and setting her

around

along with the roaring fireplace giving us an ambiance that I hope makes her want to

best even if you don't have sex, and I'm totally okay with my body pressed against hers while we rub each other off and just exist in

at me with tears in her

I've always

I smile.

"The flowers? Food?"

"You,"

with possession, her hands on

what I've

You."

to speak because I know my voice is going to fucking

moment, and I can't get past the fact that I just

not thinking about having sex, stripping her

my girl and

we do have kids and still escape up to the

creeps in because

It must.

It has to.

is what people go to