Page 64 of Situationship
“Lately, I’ve been thinking about hitting the waves.” He let go of her hands to cup her hips, his big palms sprawling around to her lower back. “But every morning, around five, when your bread goes in the oven, I get so distracted I lose track of time.”
“You miss your window?” she asked softly.
“For a glimpse of a better, more beautiful window.”
“I guess I’ll have to move my coffee break up a little.”
“I’d like that.” His expression went serious. “Promise me when it gets hard, you’ll just remind yourself that divorce sucks. It scrambles your brain and makes you think you’re losing your mind.”
True fact, since she was staring at his lips.
“A couple months back, Amanda called me to renege on her birthday promise to Maddison. I got so worked up I accidentally used Maddie’s shampoo. I smelled like Ariana Grande, and the guys at poker let me know it.” She laughed. “See, divorce sucks.”
“Divorce sucks,” she agreed.
“If you ever forget that cold hard fact, just ask me and I’ll remind you,” he said. “I have no doubt that you’ll land on your feet. Give yourself time. You’ve been a single parent for, what, six months?”
“A year.”
“Okay, so a year. That means you parented as part of a couple for three quarters of the girls’ lives.”
He slid his hands around her back and pulled her into his strong arms.
She should have backed away. She didn’t need to ruin her fresh start by relying on a man to save her. But, because she was a complete idiot, she leaned into him, allowed herself to be saved. If only for a minute.
Releasing a deep breath, she buried her head in his chest and locked her arms behind him. He rested his chin on her head, so when he spoke she could feel the rumble of every murmured word—right down to her toes.
“I used to feel that if I’d done one thing different maybe Amanda would have stayed,” he admitted. “But after some time, I figured out that although I might be partially at fault, it was her choice to leave. It was Frank’s choice to keep his gambling from you.”
She tightened her hold. “Thank you,” she whispered. “One, for understanding. Two, for taking care of my girls.” She paused and looked up into his eyes. “And three, for making me feel as if everything will be okay.”
“Because it will be.”
Right then, she believed him. She hadn’t felt safe or secure in so long, she almost didn’t recognize the feeling. “So can I assume that the other Unknown Phone Number is yours?”
His hands slipped a little lower and his gaze heated. “Why, Bianchi? You angling to get my number?”
“I orchestrated this entire day for the sole purpose of getting your number,” she teased.
“I’m flattered, but you could have just asked.”
“Yeah?” she whispered.
“Hell, yeah.” His voice was gruff, his hands moving slowly up and down her spine. And as they softened, molding to the contours of her hips, she felt a tingle start in her stomach.
Correction, the tingles spread south, and the air crackled with awareness. She tried really hard not to nibble her way up his neck, until that soft and skilled mouth—which always knew how to drive her out of her mind—was on hers.
Oh boy, she knew there was still something between them, but his something was front and center, pressed against her, playing an adult game of Get to Know You Again where his king was on a direct course for her queen.
She looked up and her belly quivered. So did other parts known and unknown, because he was looking back, his gaze hooded. Sex-drunk was the only word she could find to describe it.
“Why do you look so surprised?” he asked. “Chemistry like that doesn’t just go away.”
A fact that her body could attest to. “It’s not that—I’m just not sure this is a smart idea.”
“Oh, I can tell you with absolute certainty that it is a completely idiotic idea.”
“Then why don’t I feel scared?”
