Page 32 of Playing With Forever

“Am I gonna get a special ringtone?”

She went back to smiling and teased, “That’s a fifth date decision.”

Seeing that smile in stark contrast to the sadness in her eyes when she talked about her ex cheating, I now understood why—that pain wasn’t all for her, or maybe after all these years, none of it was; it was for her boys. DJ and Kane had walked in on a scene that should never have happened, but no kids should ever witness their father’s betrayal.

It also put a new spin on why DJ had punched that boy in the face for trash-talking his momma. He might’ve already sensed his dad was a dick to Josie and felt powerless to stop it, but with the kid in the schoolyard he could.

“Just so I can count down the dates until I get my ringtone, is this date number two…”

“I don’t know what kind of floozy you take me for, Evan Sanders, but I don’t put out on the first date. Which means last weekend's entanglement was not a date.”

Floozy, shit, she could be funny. But mostly, she was buttoned up tight.

Puzzle pieces were falling into place. The Josie she showed the world and the Josie she gave those she felt comfortable with. The first was polite and pleasant but prim and standoffish. The second was open, honest, and funny. But to get to the real Josie, she had to feel safe to be those things.

“Right. It’s been a while for me as far as first dates go, how’s this one rating?”

I thought she’d laugh at my stupid question, but her smile died, and her study of me became acute.

“I think Monday night at the burger place was our first date,” she declared. “And while you mostly acted like a bear with a thorn in his ass, Lindy was wonderful company. I also got my first glimpse of the real you. With that in mind, grilled chicken and potatoes au gratin was date number two. You gave a repeat performance of the bear with the thorn, but it didn’t last as long, and again Lindy was her wonderful self. That would mean fixing my water heater, helping me clean up the mess, and pizza is date three. Save getting to see you as a girl dad and how beautifully you respond to your daughter—this has been my favorite, and not just because you rescued me from that jerk Ted.

“I think some women think nice dinners and elaborately planned dates are romantic, and they can be. But they miss what’s important, and that’s sitting across the table from someone dressed up, eating a fifty-dollar steak. It’s relaxing on a couch, spending time with the person you want to get to know better. It’s talking about life, goals, dreams, and what ails you. It’s about building trust, and connecting, and forming bonds. So, as far as how this one’s rating goes, I give it a ten out of ten.”

Fuck, but I could fall for this woman.

Fast and hard, without a safety net.

I used the hand I was holding to tug her upright, hooked her around the back of the neck to bring her mouth close to mine, then warned, “I’m gonna make out with you, Josie. And while I do that, you’re gonna climb on and sit on my lap.”

The words had barely left my lips when she scrambled to sit astride me, which meant I had to wait two seconds longer than I wanted to get my tongue in her mouth. But when I finally did, I didn’t waste any more time.

I’d already wasted too much of it.

Years, actually.

So, I did something I hadn’t done since my twenties, and sat on a beautiful woman’s couch, with her on my lap, with my dick throbbing hard, and made out with her.

CHAPTER NINE

I couldn’t remember the last time I walked into work, simultaneously ready to take on the day and ready for it to be over.

After last night’s makeout session, as Evan rightfully called it—since that’s precisely what we’d done—there was a lot of kissing, with my hands on his amazing chest and his exploring my breasts over my t-shirt. But that was as far as it had gone, even though I could feel his erection between my legs, and I was more than ready to take it further.

The second I communicated this to him by rocking my hips, he put an end to it.

It was gentlemanly.

It was sweet.

It was frustrating.

The gesture wasn’t lost on me, though it was unnecessary.

We’d already had sex…unless the sex wasn’t as good for him as it was for me, and that was why he hadn’t gone there last night.

On that thought, I sat down behind my desk and woke up my computer.

I was in the midst of replaying last night's activities when Phil appeared in my doorway.