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Inhaling slowly, he tried not to be turned on by the breathy quality of her voice. “How are the boys?”
She sat up and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Both in bed. Hunter fell asleep early. Dylan tried to stay awake, but he got too tired.”
“I’m glad you convinced him to go to bed.” Shane perched on the other end of the couch. “I know he likes staying up to make sure I come home. I think it’s a hangover from when his mother left. He’s scared I’ll leave and not come back. But I hate to think of him getting anxious over it every Friday.”
Her face crinkled with sympathy, and she reached for his hand. “I’m sorry. That must be difficult.”
“It is.” But he didn’t want to get all maudlin. “How did the night go? No problems?”
“Nope.” She released him, apparently getting the message that he wanted to keep the tone light. She tilted her head and pursed her lips. His gaze became glued to that pink curve. She was so beautiful. Even now, with no makeup on and sleepy eyes. Hell, especially now. “Well, except that Hunter got a boo-boo. He and Dylan decided to play cricket in the hall and Hunter tripped over and got carpet burn on his knee. We gave it a wash and put on one of those Band-Aids with the Transformers on them. Bam.” She made a ‘Voila’ gesture with her hands. “All better.”
He shook his head, taken aback by the love he saw shining in her eyes. Love and affection for his sons. She was so sweet. And damn if he couldn’t see her fitting into their lives perfectly.
“No tears?”
“None after that. It helped that Dylan played video games with him afterward.” She laughed, and it lit her face. God, he wished he could come home to this every day. “You should have seen them. They were like Big Me and Little Me. So cute. Not that I told Dylan that.”
“Of course not.” He shook his head again, admiring her. Against his better judgment, words spilled from him, unfiltered. “You’re so beautiful.”
She stared at him in shock. For a long moment, he wondered if he’d crossed a line, but then her lips twitched and she laughed, husky from sleep. “Sure I am, with my hair standing up like a troll doll’s and goobers in my eyes from napping.” She touched the corner of her mouth. “Please tell me I didn’t drool.”
She wasn’t taking him seriously, and for some reason, that didn’t sit well. He stood, then offered a hand, and when she slipped hers into it, he tugged her upright.
“I’m serious, Faith. You’re beautiful, and if the circumstances were different, fake is the last thing I’d want our relationship to be.”
Pursing her lips, she eyed him warily. “Are you drunk?”
“Do I seem drunk? I know exactly what I’m saying.”
What he didn’t know was why he was choosing now to say it. He’d been attracted to her for years without acting. Why now? Was it because he’d discovered she tasted sweeter than ice cream and more addictive? Looping his arms around her waist, he pulled her close and rested his chin on the top of her shoulder.
“You’re gorgeous, smart, and vivacious. I know you’d never be interested in someone like me, but I’d like to pretend, just for a moment. Can I pretend, Faith?”
“Shane,” she said softly. “A man like you has a lot to offer. You’re sexy, intelligent, and a great dad. Your wife was a fool to leave you.”
That was more sweetness than he could withstand. He kissed her. To his complete and utter surprise, she kissed him back. Their tongues tangled, and he hoped he didn’t taste like beer and pretzels. God knew that wasn’t sexy. Her tongue stroked his, and without conscious thought, his hand curved around her breast and cupped it, testing its weight. She gasped, and he took that as a sign he was doing something right. Running this thumb over the outside of her dress where her nipple would be, he used his other hand to scoot her hips closer. The sensation of her body against his drove him out of his mind. It was too much. He couldn’t think of anything other than her. The small sighs she made, the way her hands fisted in his jacket, the way her thighs perfectly cradled his growing erection.
Shit.
He was hard. He needed to stop.
Abort mission.
Grasping at the thinnest thread of his self-control, he reined himself in and peeled his body from hers. His breath came in pants, and he rested his forehead against hers while he returned to his senses.
“Wow,” she murmured, her lips dangerously close to his. “That might have been the hottest kiss of my life.”
Hell, yes.
Was it wrong that her comment made him feel like a gladiator who’d just felled his opponent?
“No one is around,” he rasped once he could speak. “That kiss was for you and only you.”
Her eyelashes fluttered, but not in a calculated way. More like he’d caught her off guard. Her forehead crinkled, and she looked unsure of herself and so much younger and more vulnerable than usual. He wished he could recapture her lips and keep on kissing her, but he didn’t want to push too far. Whatever was growing between them, he didn’t understand it, and he could tell she didn’t either. They shouldn’t rush into anything. Especially not in his living room where the boys could walk in at any moment.
“Thanks for watching the kids.” Letting her go, he stepped away far enough that he couldn’t touch her even if he wanted to. “I’ll see you at the wedding tomorrow.”
Appearing to shore up her defenses, she nodded and gave him a lopsided grin. “Wear your most James Bond suit. I can’t wait.”
With that, she winked, grabbed her purse, and made for the door. He stared after her, wondering whether he was mad to consider that maybe—just maybe—this attraction between them could continue beyond tomorrow.
