Page 39 of Crumbling Truth
I did everything I could to keep myself busy, from browsing every bookshelf in the house to scrolling mindlessly through social media. My dad had sent me a few pictures from Florida earlier in the day, presumably while I’d been occupied withlearning every inch of Esther’s delicious body, but when I thought about responding, my head filled with too many other questions.
First and foremost: was this the outcome my mother had been aiming for?
Jesus Christ. I scrubbed my hands over my face. Leaving home at eighteen meant my mother’s involvement in my sex life had been limited to golden tidbits likealways use a condomandfor God’s sake, learn where the clitoris is.That one had made me groan and stomp out of the house one afternoon, desperate to get the sound of that word from my mother’s mouth out of my mind, but in the end, I supposed I should be grateful. I’d made it my mission to understand what the hell she was talking about and, if this afternoon was any sign, I’d learned that lesson with gusto.
By the time I checked the clock again, I had barely managed to kill another hour. I finally brushed my teeth, undressed, and threw myself down onto the bed, only to realize her scent lingered. I drew a deep breath of vanilla sweetness, cool peppermint, and the woman underneath.
I was so screwed.
I’d lived in Asheville about as long as I had in Spruce Hill, enjoyed an active social life, had a good group of friends. Now and then, I dated, but never had I felt like anything substantial was missing from my life. I ended those relationships before anyone could get too invested—I’d learned not to let things linger and drag on.
I knew even the tightest of connections could be broken.
Maybe there was an occasional pocket of emptiness in my chest that I couldn’t quite place, but my life wasn’t lacking.
Or it hadn’t been, before Esther.
With a groan, I rolled over and buried my face in the pillows. By the time I came up for air, Toni had hopped up onto thebed and started grooming her plumed tail as though my troubles were beneath her. I glared at her until she lifted those shining amber eyes to mine.
“Why her?” I asked simply, but the cat had no response.
Even as I tried to stop that train of thought before it could build momentum, I couldfeelthat empty spot in my chest taking shape, forming into a silhouette of a beautiful, lonely baker with midnight hair and moonlit eyes.
I wanted her in a way I’d never wanted anyone before, wanted to treasure and cherish her as she deserved. I’d put my foot in my mouth with questions about her husband, but it was easy enough to extrapolate after all she’d revealed. That bastard had hurt her and she’d hidden herself away from the world because of it.
I wanted to draw her back into the light and watch her blossom, even if it was only temporary.
While I was here, I’d just…ignore any thoughts of the future. Spending time with Esther would be no hardship, that was for damn sure. We’d enjoy each other’s company, slake our lust, get through the holidays, and part ways. No harm done.
Since it was easier—and far more satisfying—to reflect on what had already transpired than to worry about what was yet to come, I rolled onto my back and let the events of the afternoon flow slowly through my mind. Esther, knocking at my door with cheesecake in hand. The cozy softness of her curled up at the other end of the couch. Those luscious lips, plump and sweet. Each curve and dip of her body, every silken inch of skin. The hoarse cries and restless whimpers and low moans as I stroked and tasted her.
Somewhere at the back of my mind, I knew six more weeks would never be enough.
Ididn’tevenrememberfallingasleep, but when I awoke, the sun shone through the curtains I’d forgotten to close last night in my distraction. I groaned as I rolled out of bed, but Esther had suggested I come to the guest house for breakfast before her event preparations kicked into full swing for the tree lighting.
I wasn’t about to miss whatever time I could get with her.
After a quick shower, I fed Toni, glanced out the kitchen window toward the guest house, and grabbed a jacket to combat the frigid morning air. Esther texted to let me know she was awake and to let myself in, so I rapped briefly on the door just to avoid startling her before I entered the guest house.
“Hello?” I called, hanging my coat on the hook behind the door.
She wandered out of the kitchen, dressed in leggings covered in tiny cupcakes and a wide-necked sweatshirt that fell off one shoulder. She was still adorably tousled and sleepy, cradling a mug of coffee in both hands. An unexpected wave of tenderness flooded my chest just looking at her.
“Morning,” she mumbled.
“Good morning,” I replied. Before I said anything else, she set the coffee down, walked straight into my arms, and buried her face in my chest. “Did you sleep well?”
“Like a rock,” came her muffled response.
I chuckled against the top of her head. “Good. Can I help with breakfast?”
Reluctantly, she peeled herself away from me, though I caught her at the waist and kissed her, slow and deep. She sighedinto me, just as soft and warm as she looked. When I released her, she smiled up at me.
My heart stuttered inside my chest.
“I’ve got it covered, but there’s coffee if you want to make yourself a cup.”
I followed her into the kitchen, my eyes on the smooth roll of her hips. Though I wanted nothing more than to sweep her into my arms and spend the day in bed, she’d made it clear that we had work to get done before the event this weekend. When she handed me a mug, though, I couldn’t resist leaning down to nuzzle the soft skin at the base of her neck.
