Page 99 of Make Mine Sweet
“He needs a lot of supplies. As you know.”
“All that can’t be cheap.”
“Mom changed to an insurance plan with good coverage as soon as he was diagnosed. It’s not free, but I manage.”
“Forgive me for asking, but is your ex paying his share of August’s medical expenses?”
I can’t help the incredulous sound that bursts out of me.
Ian’s gaze hardens. “Please tell me he’s not a deadbeat, and he’s doing right by you two.”
“Ian, my ex didn’t want me to have August at all. When he found out I was keeping the baby, he left Lake Tahoe the next day. Changed his phone number, blocked me on all social media. I have no idea where he is or how to contact him even if I wanted to.” I stopped running internet searches on him a long time ago, but he did his best to stay off the grid.
An amicable break up and co-parenting situation would have been almost normal. Fleeing the state? That’s brutal.
“I didn’t put his name on the birth certificate, so legally, he’s not August’s father. I would have to sue for paternity before I could ever get child support, and that feels like a lot of effort for someone who didn’t want either of us in the first place.”
With his mouth set into a frown and his eyes a little wild, Ian looks as dangerous as I’ve ever seen him. “I hate that he couldn’t be bothered to step up and know his own child. I hate that he’s not here for you.”
I can only shrug. Even if my ex were right across town, I can’t pretend he would magically be an involved dad. He simply never wanted to be one.
“I can take care of August without him.”
“I know you can.” Ian strides over to me until our chests are practically touching. His gaze is still stormy, but there’s nothing dangerous about him now. “I take it back. I hate that you’re doing everything on your own, but angel…I don’t hate that he’s not here. I think I’d go mad if he were.”
He cups my face in his hands and covers my mouth with his. His tender kiss conveys reassurance, a reminder that I’m worth sticking around for. It’s so soft I could cry, but I don’t want that tonight.
Thankfully, neither does Ian. Gentle kisses give way to something untamed. I open up to him, and he groans. The rough, uninhibited sound makes my belly swoop as he absolutely plunders my mouth.
It’s no theft—I’m his for the taking.
He slides one hand into my hair, the other moving to my upper back as if he needs me even closer. As if he will never get close enough. I fist my hands in his shirt at his sides, robbed of the faculties to do much more than hold on.
His kisses the other night were soft and sweet, but this? This is an unquenchable fire, spreading flames from my ribs out to my fingers and toes. I am wafer paper on a burn-away cake, completely consumed.
He breaks the kiss—to do what, I don’t know—but I’m not having it.
“Ian,” I whisper without opening my eyes. I don’t even know what I’m asking for, but he grants my wish and returns his mouth to mine.
Only, this pirate has chosen torture. He slows the kiss to an agonizing crawl. Every touch of his hands and stroke of his tongue become a deliberate attempt to tease. To get me to whisper his name. To beg.
I’m ready to run up the white flag and surrender.
When he draws back a second time, I need a moment to gather my thoughts beyond the word “more.” I open my eyes to find him gazing back at me, burning with the same heat running through me.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He lived up to his conditions for gratitude and then some.
He groans again and moves in for another devastating kiss. I will happily be conquered by him.
August’s door creaks, and we draw apart in earnest. My eyes fly open to find my son blearily taking the short trip to the bathroom.
“Have to potty,” he says, shutting himself in.
Ian and I watch each other in silence. I’m not sure I ever knew eye contact could be this sexy, but my skin blazes with as much fire as it did when we kissed.
The toilet flushes and the bathroom sink runs for a minute. August comes out, still rubbing his eyes. “Night, Mama.”
