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It was a moment. Noah glanced at me, and I, at him, and I could tell he wanted to hug me as much as I wanted to hug him. But it was in that second that his line pulled taut, and he turned away quickly as he gasped.
“I think I got one!” he shouted, his face lighting up brighter than the sun poking through the clouds.
My pride matched his as I stabbed the sand with my fishing pole before giving him my entire focus. I helped him reel in a porgy—the first of three fish we would catch that day—and I knew he was going to remember that moment for the rest of his life, just as I remembered all the moments on the water with my grandfather. And I was glad it was me who got to be a part of it.
***
“Hey!” Ray said, coming through the door after a long day at the library. “Smells like fish in here!”
Noah jumped up from beside me on the couch, our game of Mario Kart forgotten as he ran to his mom. “We caught three fish,” he announced hurriedly. “And then we walked home, and Soldier taught me how to skin and gut a fish, and we cut it up and made dinner.”
She looked over her son’s head and met my eye with a smile and every bit of the love she had for me.
How the hell had I not realized I felt the same when I looked at her?
“Sounds like you guys had a good day.”
Noah nodded, clearly proud of himself. “It wasfreakin’ awesome.”
She dropped her purse beside the door and wrapped her arm around Noah’s shoulders to kiss his cheek—until she leaned in close and scrunched her nose with disgust. “Oh God, kid, you stink!”
He pulled his shirt up and gave it a whiff. “Yeah, I smell like fish guts.”
“Lovely,” Ray grumbled, giving him a playful shove. “You’d better get in the shower before we eat.”
He rolled his eyes but agreed with a muttered, “Okay.” Then, he trudged his way down the hall to the bathroom, leaving us alone.
Ray approached slowly in her work clothes. A tight knee-length skirt. A formfitting sleeveless shirt. Modest black heels with just enough height to get me excited. I loved her in shorts and T-shirts, and there was something so attractive about her in my shirts. But this version of her … the librarian …
This was Sexy Ray. The Ray that screamed to be called Rain while on her knees in front of me.
“And what about you?” she asked, hips swaying. “Didyoushower yet?”
My eyes were hooded as they met hers. “Yes, ma’am,” I replied before groaning at the warmth of her body pressed to mine.
One hand molded to her hip while the other slid up the length of her side to grip the back of her slender neck. Her lips curved into a relaxed smile as my fingers toyed with the curled ends of her hair hanging from her ponytail.
“Good,” she appraised, flattening her hands on my chest before tipping her head up, offering her mouth.
I kissed her softly, not intending to deepen the moment until she parted her lips with a silent plea for my tongue. It was unexpected when her desire for intimacy had been understandably hesitant at best since Seth’s attack weeks earlier. I hadn’t pushed for more than she was willing to offer, hadn’t even hinted at wanting more, but I couldn’t deny that I was grateful now as her hands slowly grazed the length of my shirt to hook her fingers through my belt loops, tugging my hips closer to her belly.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered against my lips, and whether that was to mean specifically today or the weeks since our world had been shaken, I wasn’t sure.
My hand on her neck slid around to graze my thumb across her cheekbone. Her smile widened as she looked into my eyes, and the words dangled at the tip of my tongue. Those three words I hadn’t uttered since my grandparents had died decades ago. Three little words I’d never thought I’d utter again. I wanted her to know. I wanted there to be no more time passed between now and her hearing the truth of my feelings for her.
“Here,” I said, nudging my head toward the couch. “Come over here with me.”
We sat together. Ray insisted on sitting in my lap, her fingers stroking the lengths of my hair. It was almost as if she needed to touch me, the contact necessary, and I found it nice. Relaxing. Every touch a reassurance of the truth in what we had between us.
“What’s up?” she asked, her brows coming together with a look of trepidation.
“Something happened today,” I began, wrapping one arm around her waist and laying my other hand against her thigh.
The worry lines on her forehead deepened. “Okay …”
“I told Noah why I was at Wayward.”
It was a point-blank statement, and judging by the look on her face, it wasn’t one she’d expected. In fact, she didn't look happy at all as her gaze fell to her lap and her jaw shifted with obvious irritability.
