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“Gonna be a drummer?” I asked him.
He pounded some more in agreement.
I laughed, ruffling his soft dark hair. He was the cutest damn kid.
My kid.
My family.
This could be my family if I wanted it.
The reality that this might be the real deal, a forever kind of thing, hit me right in the gut.
The only question was whether or not I wanted it.
And, of course, whether or not Presley would be on board.
Technically, we barely knew each other, but it didn’t feel that way. I knew a lot about her life with Aunt Meg, the loss of her parents, how hard she worked to make ends meet. I knew she was a good writer and an excellent mother. She cared about her aunt and the people close to her. I also knew what it sounded like when she came. How sensitive her clit was. How easy it was to get her off.
What else did I need? I’d figure out her favorite color and whether or not she liked horror movies as we spent more time together. I just had to talk her into giving me another chance, which was why tonight was so important.
“When was the last time you changed him?” she asked, coming into the kitchen. God, she looked great in a pair of tight faded jeans and a loose sweatshirt that hung off one shoulder. Her feet were bare, and she’d left her hair down, falling in soft waves around her shoulders.
I really wanted to kiss her.
“Like fifteen minutes ago,” I replied, turning back to concentrate on the onions I was chopping.
“What can I do to help?” she asked, coming over to stand next to me.
“Nothing. Keep the baby entertained and tell me where things are if I can’t find them.”
“I’ll set the table.” She reached over my head to get a couple of plates, exposing a few inches of bare torso and I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. Her skin looked soft and creamy, just the way I remembered it, and from what I’d seen so far, she didn’t appear to be carrying any residual pregnancy weight. As far as I was concerned, she was perfect.
She hummed as she worked, pulling out forks, knives, and napkins. I didn’t recognize the song, so I asked about it.
“Oh, it’s my friend Sam’s band’s song. They don’t have any recorded music yet, but they play it live and this one is my favorite. It’s called ‘Forever Forgotten.’ It’s about a dog, actually, but the lyrics are vague enough to apply to a person too. I guess it reminds me of me.”
“Do you feel forgotten?” I asked, turning to look at her.
“Well.” She met my gaze. “I was forgotten. My whole pregnancy. At least that’s how it felt.”
I slowly put down the knife and walked toward her, taking her chin between my thumb and forefinger. “You were never forgotten, Presley. I didn’t know anything about what you were going through, and after the way I behaved that morning, I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me anyway. But I never forgot you.”
“You…didn’t?”
“No.” I reached up and took off her glasses. Then, still holding her chin, I lowered my mouth to hers. Our lips met tentatively, and I waited for her to respond. And just like this morning, her mouth opened for me, inviting me in. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I pulled her to me and slid my tongue against hers. She was as sweet as I remembered, tasting faintly of toothpaste. I wrapped one arm around her waist, keeping her tight against me as I deepened the kiss, taking pull after pull of her tongue. Her body was warm and soft, molding perfectly against mine, and the memory of her naked beneath me came rushing back.
A soft cry from Jeremy pulled us apart, but I didn’t let her go. She felt too good, and it had been too long since I’d held her.
“I should pick him up,” she whispered, her eyes a little glassy.
“He’s fine,” I countered. “You should stay right here so I can look at you.”
Her cheeks turned pink, but she didn’t look away.
“Why do you hide your beautiful eyes behind glasses?” I asked softly, running my fingers along the curve of her jaw.
“Because I can’t afford new contacts, so I save the ones I have by only wearing them for work.”
