Stars Dancing [Dreams-To-Lovers Romance]

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SLYDAR

Sly!

I know baby.

We shucked off coats, boots, and pants, and Rory slammed my back against the cabin door, devouring my mouth and desperate for so much more. It'd been a busy few weeks, and we'd had to skip date night multiple times for kid events or whatnot. Both of us wanted to tear into each other, but wait. I pulled back, feeling something lumpy under my foot.

I'd stepped on too many toys through the years to ignore that feeling, and sock feet or no, I had to find out what I'd stepped on. Flicking on the lights, we looked down, and Rory cracked up while I said, "Ugh!"

But she calmed me down, picking up the weird ass plastic thing I'd been standing on. Fake vomit? A grodey slab of pretend puke? Rory tossed it away and slammed into me again, making it very clear that no more interruptions would be tolerated. I was happy to comply as she climbed me and finally, finally, we were one.

Panting, she told me to light the fire while she got the spicy noodles heated up, and we had a cozy dinner enjoying the flames of our winter escape chalet as fluffy snowflakes cascaded past the windows.

The wide sofas were perfect for what we intended, and Rory climbed all over me again, us taking our time for the second round. Then we laughed as she told me all about the fake puke. Apparently it'd been a joke my nephew Tyke had played on his mom, and the thing kept getting passed around from family to family.

Last week, our niece Lottie'd come up here with some friends from school for her 16th birthday party. Yeah, we let them have the place to themselves unsupervised for the night with the rule that if anything went terribly wrong, no kids would get that privilege again. We already had a rule that anyone who stayed at the cabin had to leave it cleaner than they found it or they'd be forbidden from returning, so everyone was on board with being neat and tidy.

Glancing around, it looked like Lottie and her friends had done a bang-up job cleaning before they left, so that was good. Her friend had a dog companion that'd come along, but I didn't see any evidence that it'd been there. I didn't really want to punish anyone for leavin' the place a mess, but we had to have some limits so the chalet would be welcoming when we got there ready to relax.

And relax is exactly what Rory and I did. We had to have nights like that every so often because things got so busy that at times our only conversations seemed like exchanges of to-do lists: did you go shopping for birthday presents? Are we outta juice again? You heard the recital was rescheduled, right?

So, spending time at the cabin meant we could actually talk and laugh together, reconnecting and rememberin' what it was like to just be the two of us. We watched a movie 'til we got too tired to keep our eyes open, then headed to bed.

While Rory was brushing her teeth, I went over to the toilet and noticed a pile of poop on the floor. My tired brain automatically decided it was another joke item, so I picked it up with my bare hands. Wrong idea.

"Argh!" I shouted, dropping a turd and shaking my hands, running for the sink. Rory looked around and gagged on her toothbrush she was laughing so hard.

"Dog turds!" I laughed. "Holy fuck! That's real dog poop! On the bathroom floor!" I got it cleaned up, and we collapsed into bed, still laughing as we drifted off to sleep.

No, we didn't punish anyone over the poop incident; we figured it'd probably happened when the kids were busy cleaning the place, and I didn't really want anyone knowing I'd actually touched it with my bare hands, so there was that.

End of story. But not the end of the hijinks. No, there were plenty of more of those.

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