Page 9

“Her career was her focus, and truthfully, it was for the best that we didn’t. She’s not the motherly type, and I don’t know if I’d have made that great a father either, if I’m being honest.”

Her brow narrows inward dramatically. “What? Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know. Just figure I’m not great with kids.”

“Have you been around a lot of kids, ‘cause you strike me as the kind of guy a kid would be lucky to have around.” She taps her feet quickly as she speaks, then glances away. “I mean, you’re stern but fair, and you don’t let your emotions guide your reactions. Plus,” she grins, “you’re kind of fun.”

“Kind of?” I smirk and take a swig of my drink.

“Yeah,” she nods and takes a sip herself, “kind of.”

The wind pounds against the front window, whipping snow into drifted piles against the glass as we stay in this moment. Her gaze holding with mine, the hum of the heater like a melody behind us, my heart hammering against my chest like a lovesick fool who should know a hell of a lot better than to have these types of conversations with a woman that works for him.

As I’m reeling, she begins to speak again. “Sometimes I think maybe I’ll adopt a few kids on my own.”

“People do that?”

“All the time.” She brushes her hair back away from her pretty face. “I have a friend in the city who adopted a baby last year. She said it’s hard being a single mom, but the reward outweighs the work.”

My cock aches as she speaks, and though I want to tell her that I’ll put the baby inside of her myself, I answer with a more appropriate response. “Well, you know you have my support.”

“I know.” She smiles. “That’s why I love you.”

We’ve thrown the word ‘love’ around quite liberally over the years, usually in this playful manner, though a part of me has always wondered if it was our way of releasing a valve we couldn’t release anywhere else.

“Love you, too.” I hold her hazel gaze too long, then look away quickly as she settles the empty beer onto the desk beside her.

“You know… I kind of lied about something earlier, and it’s bugging me.”

“Oh yeah?” I stiffen. “About what?”

She wets her lips and blinks up at me. “The Virgin Mary. I wasn’t talking about her. I was talking about me. It’s just so embarrassing to say out loud, and I’ve never told another human being… ever,” her shoulders rise and fall quickly, “but maybe it’s not something I should be ashamed of. We’re so close about everything that maybe—” She stops herself as her cheeks turn red. “Nope, I regret it again. No more beer for me.”

Jesus Christ. The second the words slip from her lips, my cock goes rigid against the inside leg of my jeans for the third time tonight. I swear snowstorms aren’t usually this erotic for me.

“Why would you ever be ashamed of saving yourself?”

“I’m not sure I was trying to save myself. I just… I’ve been picky as hell. Way too picky, really.”

My chest tightens and my brain won’t stop circling thoughts of lifting her from that chair to plow her against the back wall.

“I’m sure you’ve been with hundreds of women.”

“Hundreds?” I nearly choke. “No, not at all. I’ve been with a couple, and neither experience was worth remembering.”

“At least you’ve had some kind of experience.” She tips the empty beer to her lips again as though she’s nervous. “I haven’t even been touched… like at all.”

My dick pulses at my zipper, and the animal I’ve been trying to shove down claws at my chest for escape.

“Yeah?” I resituate myself in the chair. “How, ugh… that’s… how do you get relief?” Why the fuck did I ask that question? “Don’t answer that. I’m—” I pretend to check the expiration date on the beer. “Maybe this has gone bad or something.”

“No,” she smiles and brushes her hand down over her long, silky smooth leg, “it’s okay. I have a very good personal care system that I employ regularly. Not sure why I told you that either. We really need to get out of here.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

My cock goes even harder, and my palms itch to reach out and grab her soft curves. My skin tingles, sweat beads at my hairline, and every cell in my body aches for relief.

“I, ugh,” I stand from the chair, holding my beer in place over my erection to hide what I can, but the way her gaze drags down toward my jeans, I know I’m not hiding anything, “I need to run to the bathroom quick.”