Page 22 of One More Kiss

Steve

The sun’srays slanted across the water, turning the mirror-smooth surface shades of red that reminded me of Kate’s hair. I set my knife and fork down on my nearly empty plate and leaned back, enjoying the full sensation and overall wellbeing of the moment.

“This was good,” Jasmine said. The cast made some of her movements awkward, but she managed well enough. She’d also set aside her utensils and picked up her wine glass.

“You don’t have to sound that surprised.”

Jasmine grinned, and her eyes lit up with the fire I adored. “Well, I never met a stick of butter I didn’t want to use.”

I made a face. “You know what that’s doing to your arteries?”

She set her wine glass down with a soft thump. She grinned, her face lighting up. I adored this woman. “I’ve never met a stick of butter I didn’t plan to use.” She winked. “I’m fifty-four years old, Steve. It’s not like I can undo all those decades of living and eating.”

I leaned forward, hoping my earnestness came through. “Maybe you could consider a few tweaks? I want you, Jasmine, and I’d like to think I’d get you for at least another twenty or thirty years.”

Jasmine blinked at me, and my heart fluttered through my chest, light as a butterfly.

“Y-you want that?” Her voice was soft, barely audible.

I reached over and took her hand, gently opening my fingers so that her warm palm snuggled mine. “I want you. That’s never been a question. I get that we’re mature.” I rolled my eyes. “And I get that nothing in life’s guaranteed.”

“B-but you’re still in your forties! You could have anyone…”

As if five the five years between us was a vast gulf of time. “Now who’s running scared?”

Jasmine slid her palm from mine, touching her hair as she sat up. “I just thought you’d realize I’m too old for you.”

I tipped my head back and laughed. It was a joyful sound from deep inside.

“Oh, Jasmine, you do know what to say. Look, I loved Carolina, just like you loved Jensen.” I dropped my gaze. “We weren’t much more than kids in those relationships. You and I.”

She nodded. Jensen had been five years older, which at the time, still seemed a large age gap. But Carolina had nearly ten years on me. I’d been a young, fit soldier—many women’s fantasy, as I’d later come to understand.

“You lived over two tough decades with Laurence, whereas I lived the past twenty-five years beating myself up for my parents’ choices, then for my inability to connect with my son.”

I scrubbed my hands through my short hair. It was no longer military-grade high-and-tight, and Jasmine seemed to enjoy the inch-long smoothness as it sculpted to my skull. She’d told me that both Jensen and Laurence had dark hair.

She’d said, when we were in bed together, that there was a nobleness to my blond looks. I’d liked that.

“This is a new chapter for both of us,” I said. I tried to be firm but I feared my eyes pleaded with her.

I needed to feel love as much as she did. Maybe more. I’d not had affection as a boy whereas Jasmine had been well-loved as a child and by Jensen.

“A new life.” She smiled. “I like that, a lot. We’re turning the page, building a new life. A better one.” This time, she reached over and clasped my hand, and I wasn’t sure who tightened their grip first.

* * *

Jasmine glancedover at me as I drove her home. She gripped the edge of her handbag, clearly nervous, as she asked, “Did you want to come in? For a night cap.”

I shot her a smoldering look and her breath hitched. She licked her lips slowly as a blush crept over her chest, my cheeks. Tension built between us and I shifted, trying to ease the desire pooling.

But I said, “Not tonight.”

She gave a sharp nod, though she refused to meet my eyes. She turned away and murmured, “Really, Steve, there was only so much rejection a woman can take.”

“Do you want to know why I won’t?” I asked.

“No, actually. I want to huddle under my covers and cry out my embarrassment, maybe even eat my feelings.”

“You have no reason to be embarrassed, and if you need to do something with your feelings, I’d much rather it be working them off—preferably in bed with me.”

Her expression drooped. “I-I don’t understand—”

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