Page 43 of Loving at 40

She leans forward, giving me one that’s too quick and incomplete. Pulling back, I clutch her thighs tighter to me. “What’s this?” The question comes out harsher than I intend, but I don’t understand her brush-off and hesitancy now that it’s morning.

“I think we should establish some ground rules,” she states, hardly meeting my eyes.

“Why?” I snap.

“My girls,” she whispers. I remain quiet a second, assessing her, and she continues. “They aren’t used to seeing me with anyone, a man, in any way, and I’m not certain what we’re doing. So maybe we can treat this like Vegas. Keep it in the bedroom and keep it between us.” Her lips twist, and her nervousness is kind of cute.

“Okay,” I answer, gruff and low, but understanding her. “But as we’re still in the bedroom, kiss me.”

I reach for the back of her head and tug her down a bit to capture those lips in a kiss that will need to last me all day apparently. Our mouths instantly open, tongues coming together. She’s brushed her teeth and tastes of mint and a hint of tea. She also tastes like a craving I’ve had my entire life and never indulged.

I want all of her.

I pull back first, hearing the faintest sound. Releasing her legs almost as quickly, she falters forward, hands falling on my shoulders again to prevent her from crashing into me.

“Mommy, when can we have pancakes?” I glance over my shoulder to meet Talia’s sleepy eyes. Jenna chokes on a laugh and steps back, bringing her fingers to her mouth.

“Just give me another minute, honey.” She swallows hard, trying to recover from this morning’s greeting. Yeah, I’d kiss her every morning like that if I could.

“Why is Archer naked?”

Oh, man.

“He’s not naked, Talia,” Jenna shrieks. “He’s wearing underwear.” The sexy single mother’s eyes return to my bare chest. She takes another step back from me, but her eyes focus on my body, and something passes through them. Something dark and longing. Her fingers are twisted in the tie of her short robe, tugging at the length and squeezing as if she’s holding herself back. Everything in me wants her to launch at me. Tackle me back to the bed and continue to kiss the fuck out of me until we’re fucking, but I glance back at Talia, waiting on her mother.

“Go, babe.”

“I’ll be right there,” Jenna directs to her child again, and Talia disappears while Jenna lingers.

“I wanted to tell you last night. I’m sorry all that happened to you.” Her eyes lower to my thigh. “So, so sorry, and I’m so glad you’re alive.” Her genuine grin of gratitude sparks a reaction inside my chest. My heart flutters faster.

“I’m happy to be alive, too.” Staring at her makes me feel more alive than I’ve felt in a long time. I feel human again, decent even.

My thoughts drift back to the mission. I’d fucked up everything. We hadn’t gotten the man like we wanted. We’d lost the girl. However, we had enough information to move, and the team had to work fast. Since I was compromised, I was off the scene. The only intelligence I’d been given was the little bits the department wished to share, which wasn’t much. I was discharged to rest and recover, and not give a care about the Quinteros. The higher-ups kept close tabs on me, though, wondering if Viviana would return. If she would seek retribution. If she’d want me back despite everything. I hadn’t seen or heard a hint of her in eight months.

My hand comes to Jenna’s upper chest, seeking that place over her heart, feeling its beat to remind myself how alive I am.

“Thank you for telling me everything. For sharing it with me,” she says, bringing me back to the present. Her hand curls around the side of my face, holds for a second, and then releases me. She doesn’t step more than twelve inches before I’m wrapping my arm around her legs again and tugging her back to me, kissing her hard and deep once more, taking another minute with her to shore up the longing I’m certain I’ll feel the remainder of this day. I’ve done a lot of things under cover of darkness. I can hold out until tonight to continue this mission—the one where I explore more of this woman’s body.

“Pancakes sound perfect,” I whisper, breaking off the kiss but not lowering my gaze from her face.

She’s perfect, and I would never deserve her.

17

[Jenna]

After all that Archer told me, I have trouble wrapping my head around it. Shot. Undercover. Therapy. He’d been through so much, and no one knew. His family thought he was some wayward uncle and ruffian brother, and all this time, he’d been working. The Drug Enforcement Administration was no joke, and if he worked undercover, that had to mean he was investigating something or someone. Did that someone shoot him? When? Where? Why? I had so many questions, but I also felt he’d already offered more than he intended to tell me.

I was honored he trusted me with the sliver of truth he gave me.

“Why does Archer have drawings on him?” Talia asks. The small galley kitchen in the apartment has a peninsula cabinet with two tall stools. Talia sits on one, and Rosie kneels on the other. I’ve been letting them each pour ingredients into a bowl for pancakes.

“Those are tattoos, like Mr. Ramirez.” My girls are familiar with Leon and his artwork.

“I want a tattoo,” Rosie says, lowering her thumb in order to speak. My eyes meet Archer’s, who is creeping up behind the girls. His index finger against his lips warns me not to give him away as he sneaks forward.

“I want that thumb,” he teases, pinching Rosie’s sides, and she shrieks. Archer chuckles at her response, but Talia smacks him. I flinch as well even though I expected the surprise.