Page 78 of Speak from the Heart

“God, I’ve missed you.”

The admission thrills me. His sentiment mirrors my feelings. I don’t know how I’m going to live without him.

His fingers fumble at the back of my skirt and tug at the zipper while my hands unbutton the dress shirt he wears. He doesn’t look like a small-town repairman. His dress pants and pressed shirt make him look like a casual businessman, but I’m too distracted to compliment his attire. We remove each other’s shirts. He slides my bra down my arms and drops it to the floor. I unbuckle his belt at the same time.

He walks me to my couch, lips still attached until he sits, and watches as I slide my skirt down my hips.

“You’re so perfect, Emily.” He leans forward, cups a breast again, and sucks at the achy globe while his other hand pinches my nipple. I groan, and his fingers trace over my stomach until they reach the edge of my underwear. His fingertips slip under the elastic, and his hands slowly drag the silky fabric down my legs until it hits my ankles, and I step out of them. I’m fully naked, and he sits back to stare at me.

“Don’t ever leave without saying goodbye.” His words are like a strike, and my chest heaves. He shifts his pants down his hips, releasing his thick length. The intensity of his blue eyes washes over me, and his hands come to my hips to guide me to straddle him. “It’s going to be quick, sweetheart, but I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

With his tip positioned at my entrance, I wait only a blink before lowering myself over him, sheathing him inside me. We both groan, and I feel complete for the first time in five days.

“I’m sorry I left without seeing you one more time,” I tell him, rocking over him, sighing in pleasure at the fullness within me.

“You can’t . . . you can’t do that to me.” His voice cracks again, and he tugs me to him, his face against my breasts, pausing our movement. My arms wrap around his head, and I hold him tightly to my chest as I will him to hear the words my heart speaks to him.

Ask me to stay, it thumps.

He leans away, latches his mouth onto my breast once again then pulls back with a sharp tug. The snap makes me yelp, and it’s like someone has fired a starting gun. We’re off—racing, rocking, and thrusting. Hips crash as he slams into me, and I sink down on top of him. We slip and slide, both of us breathing heavily, until he begs, “Give it to me, darlin’.”

His hand slips between us, and his thumb finds just the spot I need to release a week’s worth of tension and a lifetime worth of dreams. I come so hard I see stars dance before my eyes, and I make a wish on every one of them.

Please don’t let this end.

Jess’s motions still while he jolts inside me. All feels so right with the world.

For now.

+ + +

The moment for talking finally arrives after another round of mind-blowing sex in my bed. We lie next to one another, breathing heavily until Jess lifts an arm and tucks it behind his head. His focus doesn’t leave my ceiling.

“I could never ask you to stay. To give all this up. Your home. Your job. Your dream.” He twists his head to face me, but he makes no move to turn his body or draw mine close to him.

“And I can’t pack up my kid and start over again.” His gaze is piercing, and I can see in his eyes he’s begging me to understand.

“I’d never ask you to do that.”

“Long distance seems so . . . impossible,” he admits. “I can’t put Katie through that kind of relationship. She needs someone consistent and present.”

My lips twist into a scowl, and my heart aches. I know what he’s saying. It’s true, even if I don’t like it. The odds seem against us.

“I owe Tom. I can’t walk away from him or the business. We have too much invested in it, and that’s not including the sentimental value connected to our dad.”

I want to reach for him, sensing both his sadness at the loss of his father and the depth of his commitment to help his brother take over the family business. Then I remember he told me he’s where he’s meant to be.

“I can’t ask you to leave the paper. The thing you’ve waited years for. The column of your dreams. I could beg you to stay with me, but you’d resent me. Deb did.”

It’s a checklist of things against us.

“I’m not Deb.” What did she give up in order to live with her successful husband and their beautiful daughter? And yes—yes, he could beg me to stay. Begging is good, I think to myself, but I don’t say that. “How could Deb have possibly resented you?” It’s an awkward question to ask in our current conversation, but I want to know.

He shifts, turning his body to face mine. “She resented that I worked so much while she was home. Doing what, I have no idea. She wasn’t a homemaker in the traditional sense. Didn’t want a job but didn’t want our child either. She was a terrible wife and a horrible mother.” He sighs and swipes at his face. “And I didn’t beg her to come back to me. I wanted the divorce she asked for, but I also wanted answers from her. She refused to speak to me. We signed the papers separately and parted ways.” He exhales. “And you’re right, you’re not her. That’s why I can’t believe you left without talking to me.”

I sigh in frustration, twisting on the bed to face the ceiling. He’s quiet until I turn my gaze back to him.

“I don’t have anything to offer you,” he whispers.