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“Oh, I’m so happy. Come on, I’ve made pancakes.” The two of them disappeared into the house.
Riley turned to him. “Thanks, Mitch.”
He took her hand, and she stepped back quickly.
“I… I can’t do this, Mitch. I shouldn’t have left Dylan last night. Look what happened to him while I was making out like a schoolgirl.”
Chuckling, Mitch reached out and touched her face. “A very sexy schoolgirl, may I add? Dylan didn’t develop a fever because you weren’t there. And you left him with people who care about him.”
Her eyes cast downward, Riley clutched her handbag against her body. “He’s my responsibility; I’m his mom. I should’ve been there for him. Good-bye, Mitch. I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to see you again before we go back.”
“So, you want me to forget there is a folder full of photographs of me on your laptop? Forget I had my hands all over you last night?”
Her eyes flew to his, and just for a moment, he saw the flash of desire he’d witnessed in his house the night before.
She quickly looked away again, though, fidgeting with her bag. “This thing—whatever it is—between us has no future, you know that. We live in two different states, we have different responsibilities; the whole idea is ridiculous. And anyway, I won’t be able to trust anyone again, let alone have a relationship with—”
Before she could finish her sentence, he’d bent down and kissed her. Her mouth was cold, unmoving, but angling his head, he deepened the kiss. Within seconds, she was clinging to him, her mouth soft, yielding.
Only then he lifted his head. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Go and sleep. I’ll see you later.”
Her eyes were still dazed when he got into his car. With a last wave, he drove away.
She was right, he knew it. A relationship between the two of them was ludicrous, but what he felt when he was near her was real, damn it. How was he supposed to forget about it?
What exactly it was, he was still trying to figure out, but he wasn’t ready to walk away just yet. He’d give her some space—he had a busy week ahead anyway—but at some point, they’d need to have a conversation about all those photos of him on her laptop. And there was the very obvious attraction between the two of them, not something that could be ignored.
He could see in her eyes she wanted him the same way he wanted her. Question was, what should he do about it? More importantly, did he want to do something about it when she so clearly wasn’t interested in taking this any further?
*
On Wednesday afternoonRiley took a deep breath as she parked her car in front of Annie and Craig’s house. Since Dylan’s trip to the ER on Sunday, she hadn’t slept properly. She was tired, fretful, close to tears the whole time, and so irritated with herself because she was feeling like this. What was wrong with her?
Dylan was fine, Vivian had said, so she could relax. Not even the good news about her son had been able to restore her spirits, though.
Worried Dylan wouldn’t want to stay at school, she’d accompanied Janice yesterday when they’d taken Dylan to join the prekindergarten class. When she’d picked him up later in the day, he had a new friend. This morning the mother was waiting for them and Dylan was invited to his first playdate in Marietta. It was easy to agree, Janice knew the family.
Annie’s invitation to come for tea couldn’t have come at a better time. She actually had time for grown-up conversation and she didn’t have to worry about Dylan.
While Dylan had been at school, she’d also finally had time to finish Annie and Aiden’s wedding photos yesterday. This was a great opportunity to let Annie pick the ones she’d like to have in print, as well.
Besides worrying about her son since Sunday, her mind had also been filled with Mitch. Apart from a text to ask how Dylan was, she hadn’t heard from him since he’d left her Monday morning. She should be relieved—it was what she’d wanted, what she’d asked for. So why was she still dreaming about his kisses, his warm hands, his soft smile, the tender way he was with her son?
Aaargh, this is not helping.
As she jumped out of her car, the front door opened.
Annie waved at her. “Hello, it’s so nice to see you! Where’s Dylan?”
“At his first playdate.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Dylan has made a friend on his very first day and has a playdate. Mike… somebody.”
“That’s wonderful,” Annie said. “He didn’t sound too happy about school when I asked him.” Annie took Riley’s coat as she ushered her inside.
“You’re right,” Riley said. “But apparently this school is way nicer. The teacher smiles, he tells me.”
