Page 10 of One More Kiss

Steve

I steppedinto the warm house and inhaled the myriad scents from the meal. Garlic and herbs warmed my belly, but the underlying sweetness of vanilla and melted butter and brown sugar burrowed deeper into a place I hadn’t known was empty.

Her house smelled like what I associated with Jasmine Grace: warmth, comfort, love.

I swallowed to tamp down my emotions. Instead, I trailed Jasmine to the table, ignoring Nash’s questioning gaze and Aya’s concerned one. Once settled in my chair, Nash passed me the platter of prime rib. I set a good-sized piece on my plate before handing it to Cam on my other side, who made sure his mother received it.

Next, I heaped sautéed Brussel sprouts next to my meat and shooed away the other offerings. Jasmine pursed her lips as my refusal of her Southern delicacies, but there was only one I wanted—well, two. I wouldn’t taste her vanilla-brown-sugar lips again, but I could enjoy her pie, which was delicious and addicting.

I loved her pie. Craved it.

It was as close to Jasmine as I could allow myself to get.

“You okay?” Nash asked, voice low. I’d never fallen apart in his presence, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of some of my issues.

“Not sure. But I won’t mess up your evening anymore.”

He tilted his head to the side to better study me. Having my kid analyze me made my skin feel too tight.

“It’s your evening, too,” Nash said.

How did I respond to that? Until Nash, I’d never celebrated a holiday. I still remembered the first one we’d shared together: his birthday. We’d eaten the cake his mother sent him—thick slabs of chocolate coated in caramel icing. It was delicious.

My granny had made me that cake a few times when I was very young, and it was one of the memories I’d clung to. Knowing Nash and I shared a favorite cake made that memory even better.

“Steve…”

My muscles bunched. He never called me ‘Dad’. Why would he? I hadn’t been one to him, not even when I figured out he was mine.

“Drop it,” I said.

Nash slammed his lips shut, jaw clenching. In that moment, he looked like Carolina. His beautiful, elegant mother, who’d died too soon. The only woman I’d loved—so much it was an obsession. That caused me to miss her weaknesses, to gloss over her treatment of Nash…to further fuck up my relationship with my son. I gripped my fork, the metal digging into my fingers, my heart thundering in my chest.

I’d never struggled so much with control. I hated this too-tight-skin feeling.

I took a bite of the tender meat, flavor bursting over my tongue. I relaxed as I chewed, my tastebuds too happy for my body to remain tense.

I glanced up from my plate to find Jenna eying me, her lips pursed. I smiled at her. She smiled back but it was tired and filled with sadness.

Poor girl. She’d had a rough time. Cam reached over and wound his thick arm around her shoulder, pressing a kiss to her temple. He was always there for her, making sure she knew she was loved. Jenna seemed to blossom a little during his show of affection. Those two weren’t a couple I would have paired together, but they were deeply in love. Not just in love but loving toward each other. Cam whispered something against her hair and she melted further into him.

I’d never had that closeness with a woman.

But I could picture holding Jasmine like that.

I wanted love. I wanted passion. But mostly, I craved tenderness. With her.

I cut another piece of meat and chewed slowly, unsurprised to find the once-delicious meal tasted like dust in my mouth.

The kids deserved their happiness, and I wouldn’t cause discord between them. My gaze caught and snagged with Jasmine’s for a moment before I dropped mine to my plate, working hard to loosen my grip on the utensils.

These family gatherings would have to go on without me.

I was the weak link, the ill-fitting piece.

After tonight’s celebration, I’d be sure to keep my distance.

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