Games of the Heart

“You didn’t fuck up,” I whispered and lifted my head to look down at him again. “Today was a day of making happy memories and remembering old ones. And all that was Layla was one, big, happy memory.”


He smiled a gentle smile at me and whispered, “Yeah.”

I grinned and reminded him, “And she loved Ryker.”

Mike rolled his eyes to the headboard.

I chuckled.

Then I slid my hand up his chest and curled my fingers around his neck, sharing more happy memories, “Today, Darrin would have been freaking thrilled. You with me. Us making Austin and Mandy. And Fin finding Reesee and making her his in front of God and everybody. He would have been smiling big all…fucking…day.”

Mike grinned again and said, “Yeah.”

“It was a great day,” I declared.

“Yeah,” Mike agreed.

“Perfect.”

Mike just kept grinning at me.

My hand slid up to his jaw and my face got super close.

“Thank you, honey, for making me so fucking happy.”

The smile went out of his eyes, he lifted his head, touched his mouth to mine then settled back on his pillow.

Then he whispered, “That’s my line.”

I felt warmth in my chest. Then I dropped my head and put my lips to my husband’s.

He took them and instantly rolled me.

Then the day got happier.

*

Carefully, Mike slid away from Dusty and angled out of bed.

Then his feet moved through the dark, silent, still house.

Living room. Dining room. Family room. Kitchen.

Up the stairs.

Mandy first, on her side, curled into a ball, the bright pink covers at her little waist, one little foot free.

Austin next, on his back, arm thrown wide, covers kicked off, his little tee had ridden up exposing his little kid belly.

Mike flicked the covers over him and left the room.

The office.

Then Reesee’s room, mostly gutted, her suitcases gone, spending that night with Fin in Indy at the Hyatt Regency before they went to Jamaica tomorrow.

Back down the stairs, one final go through then into his and Dusty’s room.

She hadn’t moved.

He cautiously slid in behind her, fitted his front to her back, wrapped an arm around her waist and tucked her gently to him.

“All well?” she muttered sleepily and he smiled into her hair. She knew he didn’t want to wake her. Sometimes he succeeded. Sometimes she pretended to be asleep even though he knew he woke her.

Sometimes, she’d not fake it.

“All’s well,” he muttered back, giving her a squeeze.

And that was no lie.

All was well.

All was absolutely, undeniably, beautifully well.

And on that thought, Mike fell asleep.



The ‘Burg Series will continue with the story of Benny and Frankie.





About the Author


Kristen Ashley lives in the beautiful West Country of England with her husband and her cat. She came to England by way of Denver, where she lived for twelve years, but she grew up in Brownsburg, Indiana. Her family and friends are loopy (to say the least) but loopy is good when you want to write.

Kristen’s Mom moved her and her brother and sister in with their grandparents when she was six. Her grandparents had a daughter much younger than her Mom so they all lived together on a very small farm in a small farm town in the heartland. She grew up with Glenn Miller, The Everly Brothers, REO Speedwagon and Whitesnake (and the wardrobes that matched). Needless to say, growing up in a house full of music, clothes and love was a good way to grow up.

And as she keeps growing up, it keeps getting better.

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