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He draped his arm across her shoulders and tugged her close. She tensed. Her gaze fell on the empty glass, and she shrugged loose. “Would you like more?”
“No, I’m fine. Thanks.” He sighed and let his arm drop to his side.
She was hardly even paying attention to him. Her gaze focused somewhere else—somewhere he didn’t belong. He followed her line of sight. A picture of her husband rested over the fireplace. The man stared back at him like he always did: condescending and filled with disapproval. It was only a picture, but to Thomas that weight was always there.
He looked away from the picture and shifted uncomfortably on the couch. On the end table next to him was a picture he hadn’t seen before. A teenaged couple dressed for prom. He picked it up and studied it. The boy looked like Michael, which meant the adorable, curvy girl was…
Brianna snatched the portrait from his hand and clutched it tight to her chest, her face nearly purple. “Don’t look at that.”
He pried it from her fingers. “Why not?”
“Because I look horrible. Michael loved this picture, so I had to keep it out. After he died, it felt…wrong to put it away.”
Like hell. Even back then, she’d been lovely. He held the picture under her nose. “Look again. Not horrible. Gorgeous.”
She stared at him. “Are we looking at the same picture? Are we even on the same planet?”
“Yes.” He set the picture down carefully, putting it exactly where it had been.
She stared at him, her eyes brimming. “I won’t lie—he’s still in my head and in my heart. I’ll always miss him and always love him.”
God, could she twist the knife any deeper? Damn it all to hell. He’d been a fool pining for a woman who still loved a dead man. “I get it. I do. It’s fine. You don’t need to say anything else.”
“But I do.” Her voice was heavy. “I still feel for him, yes. I always will. But now you’re here and it’s all jumbling up in my head until I forget what I feel. What I should feel.”
Thomas reached out to clasp her hands. “There is no should. There’s only what you do feel. It’s all right to move on. I can’t speak for Michael but I know I’d want you to be happy.”
“I know. I know he would want me to be happy.” She closed her eyes tightly and clutched his fingers hard enough to hurt. “It’s just confusing. I never expected or hoped to find anyone else.”
She was being so honest and open, and he should do the same. But talking about his past mistakes didn’t come easily to him. He’d spent his whole adult life bottling those things up deep inside of him, leashed and locked behind steel doors. But maybe he should have been dealing with his fucked-up past instead of ignoring it. Maybe it was time to grow up and stop hiding his pain from everyone.
With Brianna, at least, it seemed as if he could actually do that. She made him want to change. To be better. She deserved better.
He swallowed past his aching throat. “I know the feeling. I got it wrong the first time and figured there was no point in bothering again when the first time was a mistake. I…” He shook his head. “But it wasn’t. It was a lesson. I chose the wrong person to give my heart to. I don’t think I’ll make that mistake twice.”
Her death grip slowly eased. “But I went too fast. Isn’t that a mistake? I should have waited to introduce you to the kids. Taken it slower. I don’t want to rush you.”
“You didn’t. I’m only here for less than a week now. I’m happy where I am.”
She looked up at him, her eyes vulnerable, open. Open for him. God help him, he couldn’t let her down. And he couldn’t resist any longer; he needed to touch her. To have her. He leaned close, yet stopped a breath from claiming her. A breath from tasting her. A breath of space, if she needed it.
“Are you happy when I’m here?” he whispered.
“I am,” she said and pulled him close. “It’s why I called you. I missed you, Thomas.”
Victory surged through his blood. She had actually missed him. If it was even a fraction of the amount he had missed her, then there was hope for them. Knowing this made his hunger for her even more intense. When her lips touched his, the impact rocked through him like a firestorm. The sweet taste of her lips made him ache. He savored her, pulled her closer, clutched her against him. The ice bag tumbled to the floor but he didn’t give a damn. Right now she was all the medicine he needed and as long as she kept kissing him like this, he’d be just fine.
His hands trailed down her arms as he delved deeper, possessing her thoroughly. His heart beat a rapid staccato. Her whimper urged him on. A surge of need washed over him. He needed to be with her in every way, or he’d explode.
Footsteps crept down the stairs. Thomas and Brianna broke apart like naughty children caught in the act. Brianna’s cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen and damp. Thomas avoided having to make another donation to the swear jar in the nick of time and adjusted his much-too-tight jeans.
Katelyn came around the stairwell, caught sight of him, and beamed. She was dressed all in pink and Thomas couldn’t help smiling.
“Hey, Princess.”
“Thomas the Tank Engine!”
He met Brianna’s eyes over Katelyn’s head and mouthed, Thomas the Tank Engine?
