Page 87 of Courage, Dear Heart

“Text me and send a ping for the location. I’ll make it if I can.”

“I’ll do that.”

Elliott peers into the living room. “Let me help you with Jamie. I can carry him to his bed.”

I’m about to say he doesn’t have to, but I stop myself. I’m making an active effort to kill old habits that no longer serve me. “Sure, thank you. I’ll get his bed ready.”

I walk to Jamie’s room and move a few stuffed animals to the floor, then pull back the covers. Elliott comes in a moment later with my son snuggled in his arms. The image of Elliott holding my sleeping son washes over me like medicine for a wounded heart. It soothes and heals and warms me up from the inside. I didn’t realize how lonely I’ve been until Elliott stepped into my life and started showing me all the things I’ve been missing in my blind grief.

I tuck Jamie in, securing the blanket around him the way he likes. I kiss him lightly on the head and follow Elliott out of the room, pulling the door behind me and leaving it ajar.

We head back into the kitchen where Sheila has inhaled her enchilada and is stashing all the food in the fridge.

“I’m heading out. I have an early day tomorrow.” Elliott waves goodbye to Sheila. “Thanks for taking care of Jamie.”

This surprises me. That he would thank her.

Sheila smiles and wiggles her eyebrows. “You’re welcome. My girl needs some kid-free fun times. Maybe I should thank you for providing the fun.”

“Sheila!” I whisper-shout.

Elliott laughs and knows better than to say anything to her. He pivots toward the stairs. “Walk me to the door?”

“Sure.”

His hand finds mine and we descend, fingers intertwined, and stop at the door. I nibble on my lip, not sure how to act at this moment. Then force myself to look up at him.

His gaze searches my face in the dimmed hall light. Then he bends and kisses me. It’s a gentle and sweet kiss. His lips pass over mine once, twice, and then stay. His arms go around my waist and he pulls me closer to him, my body molding to his like it belongs. A perfect fit despite our difference in height and size. My skin tingles everywhere he touches me. The kiss turns more intense and yet reserved. He’s holding back. He’s keeping us in check, keeping us from going into the frenzy of before. My body aches for more. I grab at him, clutching at his shoulders, biceps, back. Anything I can get a hold of. It’s not enough.

A whimper leaves my mouth, escaping between kisses, and he responds with a groan. He pulls back, breaks the kiss, drops his head to my shoulder. Our breaths come in short rasps.

This is not the place nor the time. We both know this.

He steps back, kisses my forehead. And steps out into the hot summer night. And with one last look at me, closes the door. I lock it and rest my head on it for a moment.

The place and the time will come soon. We both know this as well.

FORTY-SEVEN

Jillian

We’re donewith our picnic and playing a game of frisbee when Jamie takes off running. I pivot, ready to chase him. My heart stutters at the scene before me. Jamie is running toward Elliott, who catches him mid-leap and twirls him in a circle before settling my son on his hip.

The two of them smile at each other. This man has buried himself under my skin and into my son’s heart. God help me. I pray I’m doing the right thing.

Elliott’s long legs carry him to me. He looks like he belongs on the cover of GQ, with his hair tousled by the breeze, sleeves rolled up showing tanned and muscled forearms, shirt open at the neck and no tie.

Jamie kicks his legs and Elliott lets him go back to the game where Sheila waits. She waggles her eyebrows at me, and I turn back to Elliott. His gaze darts all over me, a teasing smile on his beautiful face.

I take two steps forward and we stand, facing each other, a few inches between us.

He tugs at my ponytail resting on my shoulder. “I like this.”

Running a hand over my head, I comb my flyaway hair, self-conscious of what a mess I must look. He leans in and kisses me on the cheek. His mouth grazes the corner of my lips, sending shivers running down my spine.

I tilt my head as a thought comes to me. I’m not entirely sure if I should do this or not, but something nudges at me, and I decide to go with it. “Can I show you something?”

“Of course.”

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