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“We painted the nursery together,” he said, and out of the blue she was suffused with heat again. She’d forgotten about that and how that venture had been interrupted with sex on the floor of the nursery.
Her nipples tingled and liquid pooled below. Hormones, all hormones, she assured herself. With a little dab of memory mixed in.
“I just... I’m sorry I robbed you of the chance to fully experience the birth of your first child.”
There. She’d said it.
And she felt better. Sort of. She could never give those experiences back to him.
“I missed you.” Hands in his pockets, he stared ahead of them.
“What, this week?” she asked. “We talked twice.” But she knew that wasn’t what he’d meant. He was wearing the purple tie, and she wondered if he’d chosen her favorite color because he’d known he was having dinner with her.
Like she’d chosen her outfit for him.
“Back then. It wasn’t so much that I couldn’t experience everything you were experiencing. It was that you didn’t seem to need me around.”
She felt as though she’d been softly and kindly slapped. If such a thing could happen.
Truth was, she hadn’t needed him, not in the way she should have. She’d been deeply in love with him, hadn’t wanted to lose him. But on a day-to-day basis, she’d been in heaven those months she’d been a mom—before and after Tucker’s birth.
“I don’t know how to be all in with two different people,” she told him. “And Tucker was incapable of taking care of himself.”
She’d chosen her son over her husband. The truth was between them, like a third walker in their party.
There’d been no aloofness in her baby boy. He’d been all about love and hugs and cuddles. “I guess I needed more touching than just for sexual purposes,” she said aloud. But she knew it was more than that. She’d been swamped with emotion and had needed to be able to express herself naturally, fully, without fear of judgment. Bray had always loved that she was a practical woman. He’d told her so many times.
But even practical women had feelings. A wealth of them. And expression of emotion was a natural need. A mandatory one if you were to remain healthy.
She truly didn’t know how Braden did it, going through life without any ups and downs as he did. She’d never seen him cry after their son died. Even at Tucker’s funeral he hadn’t shed a single tear.
“I’d have held you without sex, Mal. It’s just that every time I touch you I want you.”
Want. Not wanted.
There they were, back in dangerous territory again. Made completely so by the fact that she was pretty certain that she wanted sex with him again, too. Just because of hormones. Otherwise she’d have wanted it two months ago, wouldn’t she have?
Sex wouldn’t solve anything. It would be great to be in his arms again, to lose herself to the magic of his touch, to feel his lips.
But when it was done, they’d still have their problems.
The one thing she knew, without a doubt, was that she couldn’t go through losing him again. Their friendship might not survive another divorce.
Chapter Fourteen
He wanted to sleep with his ex-wife. Even more than he wanted to have sex with Anna. Walking beside her that Friday evening, he had to face the fact.
And to figure out if he could possibly be reading her correctly because he was definitely getting vibes that she wanted him, too. Like she had before Tucker.
“I need to know if you have a history of twins in your family.”
“I don’t know, but I can ask my mom. Why?”
The question made it out just as he stopped cold and stared at her.
The grin on her face and the glow in her eyes in the fading dusk were brighter than any streetlight would have been.
