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It seems like an odd question to ask oneself, but if I’m reading the evening correctly, Eric will most definitely try to kiss me before I exit this car and the question is,Will I allow it?
Just as we had the first time we went out, we shared easy conversation, a wonderful meal, and agreed to go out again. I like Eric. He’s the finest man I’ve met in years. He’s emotionally available and physically easy on the eyes. I’m attracted to him. In fact, I could imagine going to bed with this man. Not tonight or on the next date, but eventually. The fact that I’m even thinking about this is bewildering to me.
So, why don’t I just kiss him first?
“Thank you for a fantastic evening,” he says as he places his car in park. “It didn’t go as planned, but it was better.” His voice is husky as his eyes lower to my mouth.
I let out a shaky breath. He must sense my trepidation.
“I want to kiss you, Jillian. I don’t want it to be in my car, but I know you value privacy with your daughter, so I won’t kiss you by your doorstep, nor do I expect an invitation inside. But I do want to kiss you.”
I swallow hard and lick my lips despite my parched mouth.
“May I kiss you, Jillian?”
I nod because I don’t have the words to answer otherwise.
Eric leans forward and presses his lips to mine. They’re cool and soft. When I part my lips for him, he takes my mouth in further. Sweetly, gentlemanly.
He pulls back, and I’m grateful he kept the kiss short.
I like Eric Hollenford. He’s not only gentle with his physical mannerisms; he’s gentle with my heart. I need someone like him in my life. Slow. Steady. Reliant.
I grimace, which has Eric looking at me in confusion. I tell him, “Now, I have to tell my mother she chose a good man for me to go on a date with.”
Eric laughs in relief. “Oh, man. I’d hate to have to share the same with mine. They’ll be sending out wedding invitations behind our backs before we get to a third date.”
The idea scares me because I could see my mother being party to that. I also don’t like the relaxed tone in his voice at the thought of it.
“You’re right. We should keep this under wraps.”
“At least until I propose,” he says, and my stomach drops. He must see the shock on my face because he adds, “I’m kidding. I do want to see you again though. Next week?”
“I’ll let you know.” I open the door and step out of the car. “Good night.”
Eric waits for me to get to my door before he drives away. I quietly open the door to my house, hoping Ainsley is asleep.
There’s light coming from the living room and the faint sound of a children’s cartoon featuring a child doctor who uses her toys as her patients. I march down the hallway, ready to scold Luke for keeping Ainsley up well past her bedtime, but when I get to the room, I’m startled by the sight before me.
Luke is lying on the couch with his feet up on the ottoman and a princess tiara half-hanging off his head of dark hair. A sleeping Ainsley is sprawled across his chest with a blanket over the two of them. Joe is curled up by Luke’s feet.
Ainsley’s mouth is open, and she’s drooling on Luke’s shirt.
Standing in the center of my living room, I continue to stare at the way Luke’s arm is draped over Ainsley’s back. He has a small smile on his face, even in his sleep. A content man.
On the coffee table is a stack of construction paper and markers. The two drew pictures. Luke’s is a boat in the sea. A catamaran sailing among the palm trees with a man and a red-haired woman on the bow. It’s a poor drawing, but its message is clear.
Next to it is Ainsley’s photo. I know her drawings well. In hers is a young girl and a man, holding hands.Ainsley and Lukeis written at the top. It’s the first time she’s drawn a picture of herself with someone other than me.
The third picture is a cat’s paw print. Apparently, Joe made a picture too.
I walk over to Ainsley and gently lift her off Luke’s chest. My action startles him awake because he reaches up to grab her, as if she were falling off.
“Shh. I’m just bringing her upstairs,” I assure him.
His eyes are hooded as he sits up. “No. I’ll do it.” Luke rises from the couch and holds out his hands. “Give me. I’ll carry her up.”
He practically takes her out of my hands and walks her upstairs. Joe lets out a long stretch and then curls up on the couch again, seemingly not wishing to be bothered. I follow Luke upstairs and peek into Ainsley’s room just as he pulls the blanket up to her chest.
