Page 37 of Feels Like Home

His hand is still on my neck, the heady combination of cinnamon and man overwhelming my senses, almost causing me to stumble. But he has a firm grip on me. I chance another quick look at him, the strong chisel of his jaw, the stubble covering his cheeks, a light smattering of dust in hishair.

He doesn’t look like he belongs in this tiny little Michigan town. He should be on the cover of a DVD case, having just starred in a role of some movie where women would swoon and fawn over him. And probably men,too.

He walks me to my car as I hit the unlock button on my key fob. He reaches around me, his hand making a return trip down my back as the other opens my car door. The feeling lighting a fire I could feel even through my thickcoat.

He leans in closer, squeezes my side lightly, and winks. “I’ll follow you,” he repeats when I realize that I never answered him the first time he made the suggestion. Though, it didn’t sound like a suggestion in theleast.

I swallow hard and nod my head. “Sounds good,” I croakout.

“Bri around? Should we callher?”

I love that he asks. He always does, although she’s usually busy. “Nah. She has a big group project she’s workingon.”

He hums his understanding and fifteen minutes later, I’m climbing into the passenger seat of his pickup. He reaches over the console and grips my hand, a movement so natural. How we got to this place together, I don’tknow.

He releases my hand for a moment when he reaches into his pocket, leaning up onto one hip and hands me hisphone.

“Can you text one of the boys and let them know we’re on our way? I’ll need to shower quickly when we get home, but I want to make sure they’reready.”

“Okay,” I saysoftly.

I do as asked then place his phone back into the console, and he immediately wraps his hand around mine again and murmurs a thankyou.

My heart literally feels like it could explode from my chest, but the questions that are rolling through my mind are even more overwhelming. I’m a forty-one-year-old woman. A mother. A widow. A business owner. I should be able to have simple discussions like this, yet I find myself feeling so out of my element. I haven’t dated anyone since Todd passedaway.

A few men asked about a year after he was gone. But no one held my interest, even for just a date. One man pursued me for a bit, came to the coffee shop and asked me out at least three times a week for a couple of months. Eventually he got the picture. It truly had nothing to do with him, though it did feel a little weird since it was one of Todd’s closestfriends.

The only thing I know for sure is that whatever is building between Andy and me? It doesn’t feel pressured. It doesn’t feel forced. It feels natural. And it feels good. Great,even.

He pulls into his driveway and squeezes my hand again. I shift my focus to him, and he blinks, one side of his mouth curving up into asmile.

“We good?” he asks, voice confident, but the look in his eyes is a littleunsure.

“We are,” I tell him, squeezing his hand back inreturn.

His eyes search mine for a few minutes before he nods once and the smile I love stretches wide across hisface.

Once we’re inside, I’m assaulted by two rambunctiousteenagers.

“Hey, Christine!” they both say energetically, rounding the corner from the kitchen to greet us as we come in through the garage entrydoor.

They each give me a teenage side-hug, not fully committing to the affection but not rejecting it,either.

“How are my favorite boysdoing?”

They both beam at me, and Andysnorts.

“Hello?” he asks, pretending to behurt.

I laugh it off, and his boys each puff their chests out, making all of us laughharder.

“I’m going to go shower quick then we’ll head out for pizza, got it? You boysready?”

“Yeah, Dad. We got your text. We’re ready when youare.”

“Good.” He winks at me then leans close, that hand blazing a trail around my waist again as he slides it around my back. “I’ll be just a couple minutes,okay?”

I nod my understanding, not being of sound mind enough to speak the words. Between his choice of nickname and his physical affection, I feel like an atomic bomb could go off beside me and it wouldn’t affect me asmuch

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