That night, I have a flurry of wet dreams. All of them start and end with Archer. In various positions and various ways. Only problem is, he never touches me. The dream always ends before then. Each time I wake up, drenched in sweat with a pool of desire aching into my sleep shorts.
The fourth time it happens, I turn over and stifle a scream into my pillow. It’s about then that Mia decides she wants to wake up and start asking to be released from her crib. It’s safe to say I got no sleep the night before.
I shuffle into the kitchen and sit the ever-so bubbly Mia in her high chair. I give her applesauce (that I’ve taste tested before) and slump into the chair next to her. My eyes are slightly closing when Beau bangs into the kitchen. The metal doors slam against the wall and wake me up as
