Read Online Yours at Midnight by Robin Bielman - Free Book Online Page A

lean in and suck on his bottom lip, taste and tease him, and tell him without words how the past was forgotten and she liked this new Quinn. She liked him very much.
    “Maybe,” she said.
    “Then I feel it’s my duty to coach you on the art of the perfect answer.”
    “Oh really?” She couldn’t stop the corners of her mouth from lifting. “You’ve got all the right answers?”
    He raised one eyebrow. “I’ve got the perfect answers. There’s a difference.” He shifted slightly so her knees skimmed his chest. The move made the space around them more intimate, but kept her at a safe distance.
    “So if I ask you a question—”
    “Nothing that starts with why .”
    “You’ll give me the perfect answer.” She glanced at Max. He was happily building a sand tower.
    “Yes.” Quinn leaned forward, annihilating their safe distance and grazing her earlobe with his mouth. “Make it a good question.”
    Holy sand trap, she wanted to fall back on the slide and pull him down on top of her. Run her fingers through his hair and ask him to put his mouth to better use than talking.
    Quinn stayed put. If she turned her head ever so slightly, she could press her lips to his cheek, feel the stubble on his jaw.
    “Go ahead, Lyric,” he whispered. “Ask me anything.”
    He breathed her in, a slow, deep breath in through his nose, that made her own breathing ragged, her breasts tingle, her legs fall open so he could move his body closer.
    Funny how she’d been so worried about his questions, and now she held all the power. She wanted to ask him to come home with her. To keep her company tonight while Max was with his cousins. To not talk, just do. No one had done anything to her in a very long time.
    His mouth grazed her neck, his hand moved up her back. Oh, God. She was seconds away from pleasure overwhelming her.
    “Mama?”
    Quinn jerked back so fast he knocked Max over. Lyric scrambled off the slide, but Quinn was faster, and scooped Max up the second his bottom hit the sand.
    “Sorry, buddy. You okay?”
    Max’s eyes immediately welled with tears, and he reached for Lyric.
    She wrapped him in her arms and held him close, then rocked back and forth. What was she thinking, getting so caught up in Quinn? She’d been about to make out with him in her neighborhood park . Talk about a terrible mom.
    “We should head back,” she said.
    “Sure.” Quinn put a hand on Max’s back and rubbed up and down. “Sorry, pal. I didn’t mean to knock you down.”
    If Max hadn’t had his thumb in his mouth, Lyric would like to think he’d say it’s okay .
    But as perfect as the afternoon had been, things were far from okay.
    They walked home in silence. Christmas lights still decorated many of the houses, and when they passed the one with the giant, inflatable Frosty the Snowman on the front lawn, Max squirmed out of Lyric’s arms so he could get a nice, long look.
    “Lyric?” Quinn said, taking her hand. They stood side-by-side behind Max.
    “Yes?”
    “You’re an amazing mother.”
    …
    “Teddy?” Quinn shouted. He checked the kitchen and laundry room. Nothing. “Teddy, where are you?” He moved to the living room, took a look behind the Christmas tree—Teddy’s favorite napping spot. No luck. “Shit.”
    He quickly tossed off his sweaty shirt and found a clean one. With a small towel, he wiped his brow and headed out the front door. His five-mile run had done little to curb the tension in his muscles, and Lyric probably wouldn’t he happy to see him after he’d hurt Max at the park, but he had a feeling he knew exactly where he’d find Teddy.
    The inky black silhouette of the trees against a full moon sky kept him company on his way next door. The scent of burning wood filled the air. He knocked on her door.
    She opened it, wearing striped purple and white pajama bottoms and a purple long-sleeved tee that said Sweet Dreams across the chest. Her hair was a mess atop her head, what looked like a colored