Page 26 of Full Throttle

I kept talking. “And he came in here and reminded me again.”

Hannah’s eyes widened in horror, and I waved my hand. “We didn’t. But the man can kiss. And what a dirty talker.” I fanned myself. “My, my, my.”

She laughed again, and I had to grin. It felt as if our roles were reversed. I was the lovestruck teenager, and she was the one giving me advice. “If you like him and he likes you, why are you fighting it?”

“He lives here. I live in Toronto. I am too old to be a casual hookup, whenever-you’re-in-town woman. I don’t want that.”

“Is that what Dom wants? He seems pretty steady.”

“Long-distance relationships are too hard, jellybean.”

“Not if you really want them.”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure I do.”

Hannah stood. “Be honest with yourself, Mom. And allow yourself the chance to be happy. Be it for now or longer. I like Dom. Chase does too. Maybe you need to give him a chance. Give yourself a chance.”

Her words were on a constant loop in my head. When she was little, I had to put myself and my wants and needs on a back burner. Working, making sure she was healthy, warm, and cared for were my number one priorities. I had forgotten what it was like to give in to what I wanted. My entire world had revolved around Hannah and her needs.

Dom’s observations flitted through my head. “She’s a grown woman,” he had pointed out on more than one occasion.

He was right. I knew that. My head knew that, but at times, my heart still thought of her as my little girl. Maybe I needed to listen to Hannah, to Dom—and put myself and my wants first for a change. I stood, wandering to the kitchen and checking out the contents of the refrigerator for dinner. I hated cooking for myself. Eating alone constantly. I missed Hannah and her company. I missed having someone around.

Dom’s image ran through my head. He wanted to be around. The truth was, I enjoyed his company. I wouldn’t mind spending more time with him.

Was I ready to do that?

I wasn’t used to putting myself first. What I needed, what I wanted, always came second. To Hannah. To my business. To what the world demanded of me.

Perhaps it was time for a change. He certainly seemed to want that.

Every day, I got a text from him—often more than one. He dropped little tidbits of himself into them, often referred to our night together, but, more importantly, checked in on me.

Dom

Hope your day was good. I was thinking of you, so mine was.

It feels like years since I kissed you. How has it only been 2 days? I need to rectify that. I miss you, Cherry G.

Or last night’s…

Dom

My sheets still smell like you. Us. I like falling asleep to your scent. But I prefer falling asleep with you beside me. Let’s make that happen.

Sometimes, I responded. Other times, his words left me so overwhelmed, I couldn’t find a way to reply. Sometimes, I was so breathless, nothing formed but a sense of desire and longing so intense, I wasn’t sure how to handle it.

My buzzer rang out, startling me. I shut the fridge door and crossed over to the front door. I wasn’t expecting anyone or a delivery, and I was too short for the peephole to do me much good.

“Hello?” I asked.

“Cherry G, it’s me. Open up.”

“Dom?” I said, surprised and frankly delighted.

“You have other men calling you Cherry G?” He paused, his voice becoming gravelly. “You have other men visiting you?”

I tried to tamp down the thrill that shot through me at his words. His possessive tone. Not even my husband had been possessive. He had been too laid-back and friendly to act that way. Dom was the exact opposite of Mike. In every single way.