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I brush a kiss over his mouth, and he smiles against my lips, sweeping me into his arms and carrying me back downstairs. I burrow into him, reveling in the feel of his warm, masculine contours against my feminine softness, my face nestling into his neck. But rather than setting me down when we get to my porch swing, he lowers to a seat and leaves me on his lap. His arm lands on the armrest, providing a comfy place for my head, and we simply sit there. We don’t talk because we don’t need to. His free hand is on my thigh, fingers tracing lazy circles, and I close my eyes. I might not be willing to sleep with him until marriage, but I won’t say no to snuggling on my porch while the euphoria blankets us in our own world.
I open my eyes, wanting the chance to study Seth from this angle, and discover him looking at me. Stubble lightly covers his square, angular jaw, unable to fully hide the scar I love sitting above his lip. His hair is still disheveled, now possibly even more so because I might’ve run my hands through it on the way downstairs. And in this light, his dark blue eyes are like a lagoon: magical with an air of adventurous danger, but not the dangerous kind of danger. I don’t know how to describe it, but I don’t get the chance to, because he moves his hand from my thigh to tuck my wayward hair behind my ears.
“I should probably go,” he says softly, the tilt of his lips erring on the side of serious.
“I know. Just one more kiss?” I ask, unexpected pressure building behind my eyes. I try to blink it away, but a tear crests in my left eye and I can’t stop it. “I love you so much,” I whisper.
Seth leans down and brushes his mouth against mine, staying for only a moment before kissing away the tear on my cheek. “I love you too, Jen.” His voice is rough, his touch is anything but. “I’ll stop by before you go into work tomorrow, okay?”
Nodding, I squeeze my arms around him one last time, holding on like I won’t ever see him again. He seems to understand that I need this, for some crazy reason, and he gathers me to him for several long moments, pressing chaste kisses against my neck. Then we stand, admittedly more clumsily than we sat, and he squeezes me one last time before letting go.
I smile as he backs away from me. “Thank you for…”
My words trail off and my smile fades when headlights cut across my front yard behind Seth, and a shiny black Tesla pulls into my driveway.
A shiny black Tesla that has Kansas plates.
A shiny black Tesla that, even if he and his supermodel wife weren’t emerging from their respective car doors, I know belongs to my ex-husband.
I look at Seth to tell him I had no idea Pete was going to show up, but the words die on my lips when I see his granite-like expression.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Seth
Eleven years and two months.
That’s how long it’s been since Sierra told me I couldn’t be a dad because I didn’t have one. Since she turned and walked away from me without glancing over her shoulder. Since she left me to pick up the pieces after a whirlwind romance I thought was going to lead to a lifetime together.
Eleven years.
And now it’s like time is moving in slow motion as Jenna and I stand on her porch, because the woman I never thought I’d see again is walking up the driveway. Hanging on Jenna’s ex-husband’s arm. Looking like a deer in the headlights while somehow maintaining her impeccable posture.
Serves her right, that expression. I’m not a vengeful person, but shoot. Of all the women in all the world, it happens to be my ex who’s married to Jenna’s ex? Seriously?
Jenna laces her fingers through mine and squeezes, but I don’t think she knows why I went radio silent. Her expression is mostly shuttered, so I can’t tell. And considering I never mentioned Sierra’s name, there’s not a reason for her to. I’d kept it from her only because I thought that chapter of my life was closed and didn’t see the point in telling her.
Clearly, I was wrong.
“What are you doing here?” There’s a bite in Jenna’s words. I like it. The woman might be a ray of sunshine, but if you stay in the direct sun too long, you’ll get burnt. And based on the look she’s giving Pete right now, he’s been under the rays longer than a beach bum. “On a Tuesday night at ten-thirty?”
Pete’s a couple inches shorter than I am, but he’s fit and he’s wearing an impeccably tailored suit he must’ve washed in cologne instead of laundry detergent. He’s also wearing a cocky grin as he looks at Jenna, and I can’t stand it. Even if his wife—who has pointedly avoided looking at me since they stopped a few feet from us—wasn’t here, I don’t appreciate the look he gives Jenna.
“You never responded to my texts,” Pete says in a controlled voice. One that says he is up here, and we are down there on a figurative scale. “Figured I’d drop by. See the kids.”
Jenna releases a bitter laugh. “Drop by? Pete, this town youcan’t standis seven hours from Kansas City. And why? You haven’t seen the kids in two years? Besides, I know you know how to make a phone call. Ever consider that?”
Pete raises a dark brow. “Right. And would you have answered?”
“Honestly? I don’t know.” Jenna’s rattled. I know this because she’s trying to keep her voice even, but it wobbles slightly. I squeeze her hand. After what she’s told me about comments Pete would make about her art being a waste of time or that she wasn’t good enough for his social circles, my protective side is on high alert. “You know why? Because you haven’t bothered to make any effort to see your kids in two years, and I don’t think I owe you a damn thing.”
“I’ve paid you child support, haven’t I?”
Oh no. Somebody hold my beer, because this might get ugly.
“That’s a low blow,” I say in a low voice. One that’s comparable to a growl, if anyone was wondering. “Paying her child support is the least you can do, considering Ella and Eli haven’t seen or heard from you in two years. Believe me, I know what that’s like as a child.”
Pete’s dark eyes home in on me. “I see how it is. Jen schmoozes the cop so he’s on her side. Is there anything illegal about a father wanting to see his children, Chief?”
