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“The same thing I did atChairs. Freak out.”
She looked up at him, her eyes soft. “I’m sorry I ghosted you. I just didn’t know how to handle it. I thought a clean break would be the best thing.”
He nodded. “I get it. I was angry when I first got back, but mostly at the situation. I met the perfect woman and it turned out she’s related to people I love.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice if I wasn’t?” She traced a circle on his chest. It made his body heat.
“But you are.”
That was the problem. What they were doing wasn’t illegal. They weren’t blood related. He hadn’t even heard of the Hartson family until he was fifteen and moved to Hartson’s Creek to finish up high school.
Yes, there was the matter of the age gap between them. But Grace didn’t act like a twenty-six-year-old. She was wise. Steady. Beautiful.
And he wanted her all the damn time.
“How long were you married?” she asked, and he blinked at the sudden question.
“Not long. Less than two years from beginning to end.” He winced saying it.
“Why did it end? Was it you or her?”
“A bit of both, I think.” He stroked her hair again, staring up at her ceiling. There was a cobweb in the corner. He wondered if she was scared of spiders.
Either way, he’d get rid of it for her.
“We got married because we were both lonely. But we were both lonely because we weren’t good at investing in relationships. So instead of being lonely on our own, we were lonely together.”
“Why weren’t you good at investing?” Grace asked.
“Because I’m selfish. And a workaholic.” He shrugged. “A shrink would probably point to my childhood, but I’m not a big believer in all that. I’m a grownup. I’m the one who decides.”
“And you decided to come to me.”
He smiled. “Yeah. And in about ten minutes, once I regain my energy, I’ll decide to get up, take a shower, and head home.” He hated saying that to her. Hated the way she winced. But he had to keep it real.
This couldn’t happen. Or at least it couldn’t keep happening. Not indefinitely.
“Will you come over to see me again?” she asked him. “This week?”
He brushed his lips against her cheek. “If you want me to.”
“Of course I want you to.” She gave him a sappy smile.
“Then I’ll be here.” At least until the end of the summer. Until it was time to head back to London. That would be a good thing, wouldn’t it? Because they were playing with fire.
But he wasn’t strong enough to stop it while he was here. If she asked him to come over, he’d come over. If she asked him to stay away, he’d do that too.
He’d be her slave, at least for a few months. He’d kiss her until she was breathless, eat her until she was a pool of desire, and clean the fucking cobwebs from her ceilings until she felt safe.
And then he’d walk away. And it would hurt. But not as much as finding out would hurt their families. It would hurt Grace, too, because she’d be the one who had to stay and endure the knowing looks. The gossip. The family imploding.
He’d never do that to her.
Sliding his thumb beneath her chin, he tipped his head until their lips met. She kissed him back enthusiastically, looping her arms around his neck.
And damn if that wasn’t all it took to make him hard again. She must have felt it, too, because she was sliding down, her hair trailing over his stomach before her mouth enveloped him once more.
“This time you’ll come down my throat,” she told him when she released him with a pop. “And I definitely want to hear you scream my name.”
