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“Hey”—I playfully swat at his chest—“you said you would be a perfect gentleman, and I would hardly consider you a Mr. Darcy right now!” I fold my arms over my chest in mock protest.
“Perhaps you're right. Around you, I am more of a Wickham.”
I gasp in fake horror, putting a hand to my chest. “Why, good sir, what are your intentions then? Wait a second, since when do you know Jane Austen characters?”
“Did you forget? You made me watch the movies with you, I have them nearly memorized. But, to answer your first question”—he leans his forehead to mine, his hands on my thighs casually stroking them with his thumb. I do my best to stifle a moan—“I intended to come in here, keep my hands to myself, and if you let me, I would spend an unforgettable night with you in my arms.” I pull my forehead back to look at him. His eyes darken as he continues, “But now? Now, I am fighting the urge to lift you off this counter, carry you upstairs, and worship every inch of your body until I have branded you as mine in every possible way.”
“Dylan,” I say softly. I am so turned on, but we just talked about why we can’t do this. “I…”
He puts his fingers to my lips for just a moment to quiet me and rests his forehead on mine again. “No, E, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. While I have dreamt about my face between your legs all night, you’re right. I promised I would be a perfect gentleman if you invited me in. I want you to trust me again and I know you’re not ready for us yet. So, as much as I want to, I won’t touch you…tonight.”
Chapter eleven
Emma
Iwakeupwrappedin Dylan’s arms with him snuggled up behind me. He held me all night, not letting me move an inch away from him, as if these last 16 years never existed.
What are you doing? Why did you let him into your house? You’ve lost your damn mind! Why did you let him stay the night? He’s going to hurt you again like he did last time! I need to put an end to this. Well, maybe after I enjoy a few more minutes…
“Don’t overthink this, Emma,” he murmurs into my neck with a light chuckle that I feel everywhere. He softly presses a kiss to my shoulder and moves his hand to hold mine.
“Hmm,” I hum, almost a question.
“I meant it when I said we’ll take this slow, as slow as you want.” He pulls me closer. “I know I kind of love-bombed you last night, but I don’t regret asking to stay. I didn’t realize how much I missed waking up with you, though.” I turn to face him and he lets go of my hand to wrap his arm around my back. He traces lazy circles along my spine, lighting me up inside.
I kiss him on the cheek and pull back. “It’s just a lot. We haven’t talked in years, and yet here you are in my bed as if the last few decades never existed. What are we doing? I thought we were taking it slow.”
The question brings a smile to his face. “I can think of a few slow things I would like to do to you right now.” He wiggles his eyebrows and I playfully pat his chest in response.
“Gah, you’re impossible!” I’m grateful that he is being playful and not serious though.
He presses a kiss to my temple and tucks my hair behind my ear. “I’m kidding. Well, mostly. I promise I am actually trying my best to take things slow with you. It’s just new for us. You know, I remember the first time I saw you. Standing across that room, calling to me like a fucking siren. I couldn’t take my eyes off you, couldn’t stay away from you. I still can’t. I know you feel it too. You can fight it all you want, and we cantryto take this slow, but you and I both know where this is headed. I’m all in, Emma. So, I’ll just wait for you to catch up.”
My heart is screamingyes, but my head refuses to join in. “I can’t just jump into a relationship. I have kids. You have kids. We need to be smart about this, and you staying over wasnotsmart.”
“I know you, E. I know that if I left last night, I would drive home and within 10 minutes of my being there, I would have a text from you sayingI can’t do this,and I couldn’t risk it.” His eyes hold so much agony in them, like a sad puppy looking for a home. He wants to pick up where we left off so many years ago, but I’m not sure that I’m ready for that.
I sigh. “What if I can’t do this?”
His hand travels from my back, up my arm, and up to my chin, holding it in place. “Then I at least got one night. One night I could pretend you were mine again. But I’m not going anywhere. I meant what I said, I'll wait for you to catch up.” Tilting up my chin slightly, he leans forward to kiss me. As his lips almost reach mine, my alarm startles us both, killing the moment. He laughs and with us being so close I feel it all over. Breaking the silence, he casually says, “Well, I guess that’s my cue,” and presses his lips to mine for just a moment—a ghost of a kiss. He releases me from his embrace, shifts off the bed, and turns off the alarm.
Last night, he went to bed wearing just his shirt and boxer briefs. I’m not a monster—I wasn’t going to make him wear jeans to bed. With his back to me, he slips on his pants and I can’t help but stare.Damn, he is so hot. When did back muscles become such a turn on for me?I move off the bed, padding off to the bathroom to get ready for work. As I reach the door of my en-suite, he asks, “Mind if I grab a cup of coffee before I leave?”
I stop in my tracks and turn around. “Oh, uh…sure, of course. I need about twenty minutes to get ready. If you need to leave, the code for the alarm is 0214 to disarm it before you open the door.”I really hope he doesn’t pick up on the significance of my alarm code.
Smiling, he replies, “I don’t have any meetings ‘til 10, I’ll wait for you.” Shaking his head and talking to himself, he leaves my bedroom and I rush to the bathroom to turn on the shower.
I take the fastest shower of my life, put my hair up in a neat bun using one of those hair accessories that looks like a slap bracelet I had as a kid, and quickly apply foundation, mascara, and my favorite red lipstick. I grab a white flowy ivory button up blouse and my navy blazer with a matching pencil skirt. After getting dressed in record time, I pick out a pair of ballet flats and my sky high stilettos that match my top. I’m a practical woman, those heels are only going on when absolutely necessary. With shoes in hand, I leave my bedroom and head downstairs, welcomed by the smell of coffee.
Dylan is leaning against the counter by the coffee maker, phone in one hand either reading or scrolling, and coffee in the other.Oof, the lean, again.He looks up from his phone as I walk over to him. “Wow, you look…I have no words, E.” He then mutters under his breath, “Andrew was right. So out of my league.” I don’t think I was supposed to hear that, but he doesn’t seem to care. I look down at my clothes. I’m not wearing anything special, but he makes me feel like I am. “I made a whole pot so you could have one cup with me and have enough to take one to-go.”Why does he have to be so thoughtful? I’m in trouble. I thank him as I grab my oat milk creamer from the fridge before pouring myself a cup. We sip our coffees in comfortable silence for a moment, but it’s interrupted by my phone buzzing on the counter with a text from my assistant.
Phoebe: Good morning! Not sure if you saw the calendar update, but I wanted to let you know that your 8am meeting was moved to 2:45pm.
I consider the message for a minute. If I stay here for another moment in my kitchen, with this man who fits way too well in it, I will march his sexy ass upstairs and won’t leave for a month.I need to get out of here!I look up at Dylan and lie, “Looks like one of my meetings was moved up. Are you ready to go?”
Without saying a word, he takes my mug, his fingers barely touching mine but they still send a chill all over my body. He sets our mugs in the sink and pours a cup of coffee into my travel mug. I watch him intently as he goes to my fridge to pull out my creamer and adds theperfectamount. After returning it to the fridge, he hands me my coffee. Taking my other hand, he gestures with his head to the door, “Now I am.”Ugh, why is he so smooth!I pull my hand away to grab my phone, keys and purse, looking for any reason to keep my hands full and out of his. He knows what I’m doing, a small smirk tugging on his lips as he takes the cup out of my hand to carry it so we can interlace our fingers again.
He leads the way to my front door, lets go of my hand to put the alarm code in to disarm it, and opens my door. “Valentine's Day, huh?”
