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There was a fraction of a second when his lips barely touched mine.
He then quickly broke away from me and walked toward the kitchen.
I all but threw myself against the wall, desperate for some kind of balance.
I looked down the hallway at him and saw the way he ran his hands through his hair.
I gritted my teeth and fought the urge flowing through my body… my hips wanting to thrust and grind and move and… fuck…
“Henry,” I called out. “Henry, look at me.”
He froze and turned his head.
“Will you go into the room with me? Just to look around? I can’t do it alone.”
I pointed to the pocket doors. Completely shut.
The front room of my house that served as my grandfather’s room for so long.
I couldn’t stomach the thought of going into that room alone. Or cleaning it out. Or turning it back into some front room with a loveseat and act like it wasn’t the place where my grandfather took his last breath.
Oh, fuck, I have to sell this house now, don’t I?
If I do… do I have to disclose that someone died in here? Or is that just for murder?
I turned and hid my face.
I felt Henry rush up behind me and touch my shoulders.
“It’s hitting me,” I confessed.
Talk about a mood killer, huh?
If Henry would have just kissed me and fucked me right against the wall in the hallway, I wouldn’t have been crying…
“It’s okay, honey,” he whispered. “You don’t have to hide it from me.”
Ugh.
Of course he would say the right thing.
I stepped forward, collected myself and opened the pocket doors.
I was hit the with the familiar smell of my grandfather. I spun right around and Henry stood there.
Without hesitation, his hands touched my sides and he lifted me up off my feet.
He moved me eye level with him.
It was like squeezing a sponge because the amount of wetness that suddenly appeared between my legs…
“Don’t run from it, Sage,” Henry said.
His voice was deep and commanding and I could only nod at him.
He walked me into the room and gently placed me on my feet.
My jaw shivered.
