Page 52 of Lost in Love

“What do you think Jason is going to say?” I ask, handing Kate the lashes for the other eye.

“Probably something stupid.”

Charlee grins. “Word on the block is you two started….” She pauses and looks down at Fin on the floor playing with tubes of lipsticks. Fin isn’t paying attention, but you never know. She hasn’t said her first word yet, and I definitely don’t want it to be fucking or something equally as graphic. Charlee catches on by the look on my face and adjusts. “Boning again?”

All eyes are on Kate.

She meets our stares and rolls her eyes. “We live in the same house. Of course we bone,” Kate says, as if this isn’t new information. “It’s not like I can bring a guy home. Jason freaks out and tells me all the reasons why he’s not good enough for me. And he’s yet to bring a girl back to the house. So we… bone.”

I had a feeling they still had sex even though they’re divorced.

Eventually, the girls leave, and it’s me and Kate in my bathroom with my kids running in and out.

“Is it weird?”

“What?” Kate bats her lashes at me. “That I’m dressed like a hooker?”

“No, I mean… you and Jason?”

“Not really. He’s so possessive. That’s part of the reason we got a divorce. He’s just a lot to handle in a marriage, and I like him way better now that we’re divorced. It, sort of, took the pressure off.” And then she stares at me as if she can read my thoughts and shakes her head. “Ido notthink that you and Noah should.”

I snort. “What do you mean?”

“This arrangement works for Jase and me, but you and Noah are different. You went through something traumatic and life-altering. We didn’t. We just couldn’t get our shit together. But you guys… Noah fucking adores you, girl. I see it in the way he watches you. He’d do anything for you.”

Again, I snort, tears threatening as I look at myself in the full-length mirror. Anything but let me in. “Too bad he won’t talk to me about it. He just avoids our problems like they’re not there in the first place.”

“He’s grieving, honey. In his own way.”

“I know he is, but he pushes me away in the process. The days after Mara died, he was a zombie. He said nothing, wouldn’t touch me, barely ate or slept, and then Finley was born and it only complicated everything else.”

Kate listens to everything I’m saying as she adjusts her garter and then stops and looks up at me. “I know it’s hard, but please believe me when I tell you that there’s something there worth saving.” She then slaps my ass, the sound resonating through my bathroom with a pop. “And this outfit is going to confirm that.”

I’d rather not look, but I examine my Halloween costume for the first time. It’s not lost on me that it’s the same mirror Noah broke less than a week ago, but I push those thoughts aside, not wanting to remember why he did it. “Moms shouldn’t be allowed to dress like this,” I say in embarrassment.

“Fuck that,” comes a deep grumble from behind, and I’m shocked to see Noah standing behind me, grinning. “Moms should always dress like that.”

Kate and I both jump and turn to face him. He doesn’t look at Kate, or anywhere else in the room. No, my husband’s eyes are glued to me and my leather jumpsuit, courtesy of Ashlynn. Apparently, she did a Halloween movie not too long ago, assured us nothing happened in or on the outfits, and supplied us all with naughty costumes. I could be wrong here, but judging by the expression on Noah’s face, he’s not disappointed.

We stare at one another, and my cheeks heat as if he’s seeing me naked. Which, let’s be honest, my costume leaves very little to the imagination.

Kate clears her throat. “I’ll be downstairs tending to the children,” she says with amusement. When she gets to the doorway Noah’s standing in, she whispers something in his ear. He smiles but doesn’t lift his eyes from mine.

When she’s out the door, Noah’s jaw tightens. I can’t tell… is he upset? Does he not want me wearing this?

My eyes drift from his arms, full of ink, veins, and muscles. He drinks me in from my breasts to my stomach, thighs clearly visible. As a slow smirk appears, he winks at me and crosses his arms over his chest. “Catwoman?”

I nod and lift the whip in my hand. “With props.”

“Nice,” he says, rubbing his thumb over his lower lip. I step toward him now, keeping a few inches between us. When I’m in front of him, I take the end of my whip and run it up the inside of his thigh.

Without breaking eye contact, I notice the hitch in his breathing, the rise of his chest, and the narrowing of his eyes. He swallows heavily and lets out a deep, shaky breath when I drop the whip and chew on my bottom lip.

Noah grabs hold of me quicker than I’m expecting and pushes me up against the sink, knocking over the makeup on the counter.

I don’t wait for him to say anything before I crash my lips to his.

His hands cup my face and his lips mold with mine, his breath ragged and uncontrolled. His fingers find their way to my hair where he tugs, arching my neck for him. He sucks on the hollow spot of my collarbone, groaning as he does it and pressing me further against the counter.

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