Page 53 of Dandelions and Smoke

I take a moment to admire her as she stares at the door and stretches. She’s breathtaking. Her soft pink curls fall wildly around her face as the morning sun pours through the windows, kissing the highlights and tracing the shadows of her curves. Looking at her is like seeing a work of art up close, something meant to be admired from every angle. No matter how many times I look at her, I’m always left breathless, captivated by every detail of the masterpiece in front of me.

She catches me staring and narrows her eyes, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, she snuggles further into me and closes her eyes.

“I’m not ready to be vertical,” she says with a yawn.

Within a few minutes, she’s back asleep. I stay perfectly still, listening to the slow, steady puffs of her breath against my bare chest. Last night replays in my head. Watching Rory light up and enjoy herself without holding back, the way she handled herself with Nora, it’s like watching a Sour Patch Kid in real life. A laugh threatens to escape, but I swallow it down, unwilling to disturb her as she sleeps against me. Instead of waking, she nestles in closer, wrapping her leg around my waist. Having her here with me, in my bed, is everything I could want.

“Almost everything,” a voice in the back of my mind whispers while the hurt lingers like a bruise no one else can see.

“You can reach into the fire to pull someone out, but if they aren’t willing to grab your hand, you can’t leave it there, or else you’ll get burned too.” Rory’s words from last night echo loudly in my mind, stifling the whispers that threaten to choke me out.

Rory doesn’t know the full story, I argue, while drawing small trails with my fingers up and down her back. She doesn’t know how close Scout came to losing his mother because of me not being the husband she needed, but the more time that passes, the more I’m starting to think I’m wrong. I tried.

My stomach drops, the guilt now mixing with a fresh resignation. I never meant for that to happen, but what Jasenia is doing to me now is her choice, and she’s making it on purpose. I never want Scout to be without his mother, but Jasenia is choosing to raise him without his father.

This isn’t fair.

I smirk, remembering that’s what Rory said to me months ago, but then I wasn’t ready to see that, to feel that. Focusing my gaze across the room, I lock onto a picture hanging on my wall of me holding Scout. My throat constricts, and a sharp ache spreads behind my breastbone. Jasenia is being intentionally cruel, and I don’t deserve this. The realization feels like being gutted and left raw to the elements. Hurt and anger tangle together until it’s hard to separate one from the other.

Again, Billy is right. I deserve to be happy. I deserve to have Rory here with me and to have my son in my life. I’ve wasted so much time beating myself up over this, over everything, but being with Rory, being near her, around her, with her, it makes something inside me want to come alive again. She’s banished the smoke and made everything clearer.

Eventually, my eyelids feel heavy, and falling back asleep, letting go of everything I’ve been holding onto, seems like the easiest choice I’ve made in a while.

It’s hard to tell how much time has passed as Rory shifts in my arms, and the last bit of sleep slinks away before I finally open my eyes. With a big yawn, her arms come up over her head, and her lips tilt into a lazy smile. Her brows are relaxed, and there’s not a sign of tension anywhere.

This lasts for all of ten seconds and makes me grateful I was paying attention to catch it when I could.

“What time is it?” she asks, looking every which way. “Where’s my phone?” Her hands pat around the covers, and she leans over the bed to check the floor.

As she moves, the sheet puddles at her waist, leaving her bare and on display for me. Heat pools down low as my gaze takes in every inch of her perfect body. I’m so distracted by her that I don’t even notice she’s talking to me until she’s waving her hand in front of my face.

“Unbelievable,” she exhales with a small laugh. “Here I thought with age comes maturity, but you may as well be a teenage boy seeing a set of boobies for the first time.”

I blink out of my trance and meet her gaze. “First of all, I’m very mature when it comes to everything else, but you cannot blame me for being distracted by the nicest set of breasts I have ever seen. I mean, come on.” I reach out my hands to grab them, but she swats my hands away and crosses her arms, effectively covering them.

She rolls her eyes, but a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. “And second?”

“Secondly, you make me this way, so it’s your fault.”

“My fault?” she gasps.

“Yup,” I say, popping the ‘p’ like she always does. “You make me happy. Ergo, you get all the sides of me that most don’t know exist.”

Her smile spreads to both sides of her mouth. “You’re ridiculous.”

She drops her arms and moves to get off the bed, but I reach for her, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her back against me before she can escape. My lips find hers in a kiss that’s playful yet entirely consuming. She matches my kiss with an effortless intensity that has my restraint slipping as I fold her into my arms.

“Mmm,” she moans, but pushes me away. “No, no. I need to go.”

“Why?” I groan into her neck as she wiggles out of my embrace.

“Because,” she trails off playfully, dragging the word as she pulls on her shirt.

“Boo,” I protest, my brows furrowing and my mouth pinching to prove my disapproval.

She chuckles, scrambling about, picking up her clothes from where they lie strewn across the room before continuing. “I left my backpack in your car, and my phone is in there.”

“So?” I ask, not seeing the problem.