Chapter 18 ~ Sapori

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"It's time for bed, Devon," I say to my little boy, holding my hand out for him to take as he continues to play with his toy animals.

"But it's scary in there. There's a werewolf on my ceiling ready to pounce."

"Tell you what? I'll stay with you until you fall asleep."

"You'll watch over me?"

"There's no werewolf in your room, Dev, but I'll make sure to double-check, okay?"

"Okay," he finally puts his hand in mine and follows me to his race-car-shaped bed.

After he slides into the sheets, he puts his head on my chest and I tuck him under my arm while he shuts his eyes.

"Night, night, Miss Ayexa," he mumbles before his breathing grows heavier. He must've fallen asleep in an instant.

Buzz. My phone vibrates against the pocket of my sweatpants. I dig it out, careful not to wake up the beautiful young man in my arms.

"Any need for me to spank your bottom yet? Be honest."

I giggle under my breath against Devon's sleeping body before I slip out from under him. I adjust his blankets around him and can't help myself from giving him one more kiss on the head.

"No confessions yet, Mister. But you shouldn't be encouraging bad behaviour."

"Oh, I'm not encouraging it, princess. But I have a strange feeling there's going to be some mischief in the near future."

I type out a message and finish the last part with an "I love you" but a punch to my gut steers me away from such advances. I backspace it immediately. No luck pushing tonight. 

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The gentle breeze carried me through London that Saturday morning as the rich scent of the gorgeously pink Cherry Blossom trees swayed with every hum of the wind. I was off to the farmer's market for some fresh produce. On my way, all of the flowers and green trees somehow felt like I was looking at them for the first time. Every snowdrop. Every bluebell. Every hyacinth.

I return from the Farmer's Market, teetering as I struggle with my equally heavy and crunchy paper bags in hand. I'm startled to see Cameron's audi here so early for our lunch date.

Sir, it's 10:30 a.m.

The moment he sees me, he pops out of the driver's side and reaches out his arms, "Let me take those."

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," he chuckles with a twinkle in his eyes as they go trailing up and down that yellow dress. He seems to recall the fight we had over it last October.

"But it's early."

"Where were you, darling?"

"I went to the farmers market," I lead him into the front entrance and up the dusty, squalid, wobbling staircase. The spring morning sun beating through the cracked window and showcasing all the cobwebs, dust and the moths dancing in the window.

"You thought you could manage these steps with bags on your own?"

"I've been doing it since I moved in two years ago."

"That's what I love about you. Whatever you want to do, you just go and do it. Even if it's as simple as going to the farmer's market on Sunday morning."

"What else am I supposed to do?"

He shrugs as I unlock the door, "Some girls have to wait around for their men to take them. Or their girlfriends. You do what you want, with or without us."

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