Page 68 of Pucked Up Plans
After everything with Damon, I swore I’d never let another man have this kind of hold over me. Yet here I am, the first guy since him, and it’s like I’ve learned nothing.
But Walsh isn’t Damon, and I have more experience now.
I also have Aubrey to consider, which is probably the most important reason to slow this down.
But I have needs as a woman too. And damn it, a girl needs sex every once in a while. Or in my case, at least once after six years.
However, with Walsh, it feels way more than sex.
Friendship.
Companionship.
Someone to take care of me.
I’ll just keep my heart and feelings out of it, have a little fun, be rewarded with orgasms. No harm in that, right?
“Have you given more thought to going out on a date?”
Walsh’s words throw smoke on the whole “casual” idea.
I focus on him. He’s curled up on the other end of the sofa, still totally hot and so relaxed and comfortable at my house. Which isn’t conducive to my plan either. Because I want him here. Not just so our kids can have a playdate, but so I can have some fun.
My brain wars with itself over what I want. Truth is, I’m unsure of exactly what I want versus what I’ll allow myself to have. What I deserve. A showdown of Tate the mom vs. Tate the woman.
Wonder which one will win.
I finally find the words to answer him. “Every day. It crosses my mind every day.”
“And?” His expectant expression begs for a positive outcome.
“I’m working out the details for it to happen.”
The blue striations in his eyes lighten with pleasure. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”
“You sound like Lennon.” I giggle.
“Where do you think she gets it from?”
“How much notice will you need?”
“As long as I don’t have hockey, about ten minutes to make sure I’m clean and decently dressed.” He holds out his hand. “Give me your phone. I’ll put my hockey schedule in so you’ll know when I’m busy.”
I can’t tear my eyes away from him. One, for his happiness, a wide smile the size of Texas beaming at me. Two, for the mere enthusiasm oozing from him for getting to take me on a date. Me. Tate Winchester. And three, for the way he demands things of me, and I surrender.
The phone gets passed his way. I never use the Calendar app for anything, so he has free rein over my entire schedule.
While Walsh does his thing, I half concentrate on the movie, an action film he chose, something I wouldn’t pick on my own, the other half drifting to ideas of dating him. Followed by thoughts of sleeping with him. I allow nothing beyond that. I have to protect my heart. Besides, as much as I talk a big game about wanting to have sex, I’m still kinda fearful of doing it.
It seems like I should be ready after all these years, but there’s something I can’t shake: the fear of getting pregnant again.
I love being a mom to Aubrey, but I can’t do it again. Not by myself. Not with someone I barely know. Though what I know about him, I like and enjoy, there’s still so much to learn about Walsh Keeley.
We spend the next forty-five minutes watching the movie, fighting any urges of pursuing more. Anytime he’s tried to make a move, get closer, lean in for a quick peck, I shove him away. One of us has to be the strong one here. If it utilizes every damn last ounce of my willpower, I’ll do it.
The girls wander out, asking for a show. They cuddle on the couch together under a blanket, happily engaged in the action on the screen.
“It’s not fair they get to be so close,” Walsh hisses in my ear.
