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“Not every mom acts like she walked off a sitcom.” Tova didn’t sound horrified. I hadn’t known what to think when Meg had compared our kids to pets.
“She loved them, don’t get me wrong. In her own way. I guess...” Was I really going to say it? The sentiment that had kept me awake. The astonishing realization that had taken years to figure out came to me minutes after seeing Tova in the house with my kids. “It’s not the way I wanted to love.”
“Oh, Cody.” She unwrapped her arms from herself and scooted to the edge of the chair, propping her elbows on her knees. “You remained the devoted father and husband out of loyalty?”
“She was my wife. I wasn’t going to leave like my mama did.” Another jolting twang. Frustrated, I put the guitar on the smooth, metal outdoor table. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to dredge up my childhood trauma.”
“We could do that weird competition thing people do with scars and try to one-up each other.”
“I loved her.” The words had to be said. I wasn’t convincing myself. I was reassuring myself.
“I know. I can tell.” She reached toward me, and I couldn’t move. When she closed her warm, small hand around mine, I was a statue, as if I was afraid to scare off the beautiful, wild creature who had entered my life. “It’s okay to have complicated feelings about people who are gone—or are even still with us.”
She didn’t have to tell me who she was talking about. Her mom.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” I said gruffly and covered her hand with mine.
“Me too.”
We were side by side, but we were each crowded on the edge of our seats, leaning against the armrest.
“Tova.” I stared at our shadowed hands. Those emotions I kept a tight hold on were unfurling. I had questions. Confessions. I felt things.
“Yeah?” she asked, breathless.
“When we danced the other day...I almost kissed you.”
“I almost let you.”
My breath wheezed out. The slight confirmation that she might feel anything close to what I did chiseled at the flimsy wall I’d built between us. I’d fought my attraction for weeks, and it was only growing stronger. “When I called you last weekend, were you...”
“Yes.”
A final answer. A triumphant answer. I knew it. I craved more of what I heard. “I wanted to be in there. I wanted to be the reason you made that little squeak.”
“You were.” She drew her lower lip in between her teeth. There was fear and uncertainty in her eyes. Her admission could have driven a giant wedge between us, but instead it obliterated my mental guards.
“Christ, Tova. I want you so damn bad.” I slid out of the chair and dropped to my knees in front of her, my hands on her legs. Her bare fucking legs, with skin so soft it shouldn’t be possible. Her soft gasp was swallowed by the night, but she didn’t tense. If anything, she edged closer to me. “Do you know how much I’ve dreamed of getting that little moan out of you?” I stroked my hands up, the thin fabric of her shorts the only thing between us. “Do you know how often I get off with the image of you in my head?”
That should send her running.
It didn’t. She pushed her hands through my hair and tipped my head back. The porch light backlit her. I saw the beauty who sold out performances. I’d pay my entire life’s savings to watch her dance.
“I thought I could keep myself in check, but god, Cody. You’re just so—” Her mouth crashed onto mine, and any restraint I had left was gone. Eradicated.
The flavor of mint and coconut ChapStick filled my mouth. Two tastes that were now my favorite. I dragged her to me, her ass nearly falling off the seat.
She whimpered and widened her legs to make more room for me. I deepened the kiss, stroking inside her hot mouth with my tongue. She met me stroke for stroke. The woman kissed with abandon, just like she danced. And like when she danced, she made me want to free myself from rigid expectations. I wanted to be that guy again. The one who learned new skills for a girl. The guy who enjoyed a relationship instead of trying to keep up, afraid that getting left behind meant failure.
I ran my hands over her lush hips and under her baggy shirt. I groaned. Her skin was warm and velvety. “How do you feel so soft?” I licked across her lower lip.
“Moisturizer,” she gasped. “Keeps the body makeup from caking.”
“I’d love to see you perform.” I kissed along her jawline and laved a path down her neck. She tipped her head back with a low moan. Score one for me. “The way you move is like a special gift just for me.”
She tightened her hands in my hair. “Cody.” Need filled her voice, bordering on pain, and well, I couldn’t have that.
I pulled up her shirt and leaned her back. She arched just as the hem passed her breasts. I groaned again. “No bra?”
