Page 51 of I'm Yours

“Ha! Oh my gosh, no. The previous owners let Alan know that they were going to sell and wondered if he knew of anyone who would love it like they did. For the price they were asking, there was no way I could have turned down the deal.”

“Wow. How does it feel? Owning a house on the lake?”

“Amazing.” She sighs and rests her cheek on her knee, looking at me. “Truly, I never thought I’d be a home owner let alone one on the lake. If it wasn’t for your dad letting me know about the house coming available, I never would have been able to, either.”

She’s really come a long way from the girl who used to think so little of herself. I want to bring it up and ask if she still thinks she’s unworthy or if she finally recognizes her worth. Did moving into her house change her way of thinking or was it something else?

“Does Samuel live with you?”

“What?”

“You mentioned he was there.”

“Oh. No, he lives in his own place, too. He comes over a lot, though. Mainly so I can feed him,” she says with a grin, raising her head off her knees.

“You like to cook?”

“Love it. Your mom… I’m sorry, is this weird for you? All the things I’m telling you that your parents are involved in?”

“A little,” I admit.

“They were — are — great. To both me and Samuel.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“No? Well, I was. Your mom saw me at the pharmacy one day picking up my mom’s medication. She wasn’t trying to eavesdrop but I started breaking down at the counter when the pharmacist was going over all the potential side effects. She held me while I cried and I think she kind of knew that it was about more than just my mom’s diagnosis. She stood next to me and listened in case I had any questions later about the meds and then made me get in her car and drove me home to help me get my mom settled. For the past twelve years she’s been by my side, Reed. Taught me how to cook, clean, what to do in the winter with the snow and how to pay bills. All the things that Mom was never able to teach me. Then your dad stepped in and made sure we were taking care of our vehicles and that our heater was working properly. They’ve truly been like parents to Samuel and me.”

By the time she finishes talking about how incredible my parents have been to her, tears are slowly sliding down her cheeks and I can feel my own lump in my throat. I didn’t know any of that. It makes me jealous of them and love them even more, though.

Before I can stop myself, I reach out my hand and wipe away her tears with my thumb. Her breath catches and she stares at me, her lips parted. She’s so beautiful. I keep thinking it but it’s true. I could never get over her beauty. Inside and out, it was impossible to ignore.

“I’m glad you had them.”

“Me, too,” she whispers. My thumb is still brushing her cheek lightly and somehow we’ve scooted closer together so our thighs are touching. There’s an electric charge between us that I can’t deny but know I need to. She’s my daughter’s dance teacher. The woman who told me she didn’t love me in return. And I’m still grieving the loss of my wife. There are a million reasons why I shouldn’t even consider kissing her but yet I am. I’m desperate to feel her lips pressed against mine. To taste her and remember how it felt to have her in my arms again.

She licks her lips and my eyes follow the simple movement. The tip of her tongue sliding across her plump lips that remind me of peaches. I lean closer, my eyes darting between her lips and eyes, seeking permission. Needing it. Suddenly desperate for it. I won’t take anything from her without it.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Our bodies inch closer. So close I can feel the tiny puff of breath she expels from her lips. It washes against my skin. Ifeelit. Leaves rustle in the trees from the breeze blowing. A frog croaks from somewhere near the pond. The faint smell of cow manure doesn’t even diminish howromanticit is. The fact that I just thought the word romantic along with cow manure almost makes me laugh.

“Reed,” she whispers, lifting a hand to my own cheek and leaning over.

It’s all I need to hear to squash the last of the space between us.

When our lips meet once again, it feels like coming home. The last time I felt this way was twelve years ago. Maybe what people say about first loves always sticking with you is true. Everything with Sadie just feelssoright.

The kiss starts slow. It’s a memory we’re revisiting.

Our lips learning each other once again.

It’s a tentative kiss, one that’s not meant for getting to the end but to tell each other a story. For me, a story of lost chances. Maybe my hopeful mind and heart is reading into things, but I believe she loved me then and couldn’t tell me. Twelve years of time that we can’t get back. Deep down, I feel some bitterness toward that. But I remind myself she was young and scared, thinking she was doing what was best for me. For both of us, at the time. She’s wrong, but that’s not something I can change. Nor do I want to. I can’t imagine a life without Emmy in it. My mom always said there’s a reason for everything and I believe that.

Our time spent apart made us who we are today and I’m looking forward to what that means when it comes to Sadie Jones. Which is why I won’t rush our kiss.

A soft moan escapes her lips and I press harder when she angles her body toward me. I slide a hand over her hip, my fingers flexing into her luscious curves. As much as I want to continue kissing her, it’s more important that we take whatever this is slow. I need to be honest with myself about what I want. For me, nothing with Sadie Jones will ever be casual and I’ll be damned if I change that now. She and I are more than just a romp in the grass. But I don’t know if I’m ready for whatever more is yet.

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