Page 59 of From Nowhere

Before I can answer, she opens the shed door. Lola is cuddled on the bed with the kitten, and he’s purring while she pets him. “Can we take him home?”

“He’s Maren’s,” I say.

“Just for one night? Like a sleepover.”

Maren sits on the edge of the bed. “Maybe you can watch him for me if I have to go out of town for a few days. If it’s okay with your dad?”

Lola’s big eyes find me. Doesn’t Maren know never to suggest something directly to a child under the premise of “if it’s okay with your dad?”

How can I say no at this point?

“We’ll see.” It’s my go-to answer that buys me time but very little peace. Lola will fixate on this until I make a promise in blood. “We should head home, Lola.”

“I need to go to the bathroom first.” She cups her hands around her lips and mouthsPoopto me.

“Here. I’ll show you the restroom.” Maren stands, setting the kitten on the floor.

“I’ll wait here,” I say.

Maren takes Lola to the house and returns a minute later. “Should I have waited inside the house with her?” She pauses just inside the door.

“She’ll be a while,” I say. “There’s nothing quick about her using the bathroom. Even when she’s done, she’ll spend five minutes washing her hands and talking to herself in the mirror.”

“I love that,” Maren says, closing the door. “I used to talk to myself in the mirror when I was her age.”

I sit at the end of the bed and pick up Bandit, but he squirms out of my hands and hides under the bed.

“He knows you tried to let him die.” Maren crosses her arms over her chest. I stare at her. After a few seconds, she narrows her eyes. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m just imagining things.”

“What things?”

I shrug. “They’re a little inappropriate, so I’d rather not say.”

Her face flushes, and she fiddles with her ponytail. “Stop.”

“I’m tired of stopping. Aren’t you?” I stand.

She retreats a step, and her back hits the door.

“Don’t look at me like that when your daughter will be back any minute.”

“She’ll be a while.” I duck my head and kiss her soft lips.

Maren breaks the kiss and grips my shirt. “Is this a good idea?” she whispers before kissing my neck.

Two. Fucking. Years.

She’s killing me.

I wrap her ponytail around my hand and gently tug until her neck stretches, giving me full access to her mouth again.

We kiss harder than we have thus far; an urgency burns between us. My other hand dips down the front of her leggings and into her underwear.

She moans, tightening her grip on my shirt.

This is the wrong time. Wrong place. Hell, it’s probably the wrong life.

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