Page 85 of Shattered Dreams
He catches my eye and smiles with that expression he gives me now that's different from before.
It still makes my stomach flip.
My aunt walks over, setting her wine down beside me. "You look happy."
"I am." The words come easy because it's true.
She doesn't say I told you so because she doesn't need to. Her hand squeezes mine. "He's different."
"Heisdifferent," I agree. "We both are."
She nods once. "Took long enough."
I laugh because of course she'd say that. “It’s worth it.”
Poppy runs up, sweaty and grinning, cheeks red from too much sun. "Mommy, Daddy said I can have TWO popsicles!"
I look at Roman across the yard.
He holds up both hands like he's innocent. "They're the small ones."
My aunt chuckles beside me. "He's scared of you now. Good."
I grin, smoothing a curl from Poppy's forehead. "One now, one after dinner."
Poppy groans dramatically but skips off toward the cooler anyway. Roman mouths thank you to me from across the yard, his eyes dragging over me in a way only I can see.
Fuck, he’s so hot.
Later, when the sun gets low and most people have left, Roman comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist as we watch Poppy blow bubbles with Amanda on the porch.
"She called me Prince Daddy earlier," he says, chin on my shoulder.
I smile. "You got your title back."
"I did." His hands squeeze my hips. "Are you good with everything? With us?"
I don't answer right away because I'm thinking about the divorce papers, how he tore them up in our kitchen six months ago, how we have been rebuilding since then piece by piece.
"Yeah," I say finally. "I'm good."
His breath catches. "Ava?—"
"We're not the same people who got married ten years ago. We're not the same people who almost divorced. But Ilikewho we are now."
He looks at me, his eyes dark. "Yeah?"
I nod. "Yeah."
He doesn't kiss me gently but moves fast, grabbing me and spinning me toward the house like he has been holding back all day. We barely make it through the back door before his mouth is on mine, his hands everywhere.
"Bedroom," I gasp.
He lifts me, carrying me down the hall like a man who knows exactly what he wants.
When we crash onto the bed, it's not soft or careful, but hungry and desperate. He pulls my sundress off and curses when he sees me underneath.
"Fuck, I missed this," he murmurs against my throat. "Had to watch you all day in this fucking dress, imagining when I’d get to do this."
