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His lips curve in a smile. "In that case, can I do it again?"
I nod, and Evan lifts his hands to hold my face as he captures my lips again. I remember feeling like this years ago, being kissed like this by a man whowanted meso much. It feels like I can't breathe without his kiss, like all I can do is sip the air from Evan's lungs.
I make an involuntary, breathy sound when he parts my lips with his tongue, slides it over my own. And then it goes from being romantic to being hungry, and I realize I've been starved for this for half a decade. I want him so bad, my hands fisting in his t-shirt, desire rocketing through me.
I don't know how I'm going to make the rest of this drive without jumping his bones.
As Evan pulls away, I'm left gasping for air, my body on fire. I need to figure out what this all means, but my body seems to have other ideas, and I reach for him again with a needy huff of breath.
"Not here," he says softly, his voice husky with desire. "Not like this. Not...I don't want to rush you."
It hits me somewhere deep in my chest. Right--because I'm a widow, because I still haven't taken off my ring. I should have known he wouldn't be into this.
Plus, we're in the middle of nowhere, on a two-lane highway, and it's not safe to stop for long with fifteen pups in the car. But my body is screaming for release, for something to ease the ache that's been building inside me for so long.
Evan seems to sense my frustration, and he reaches over to stroke my hair, his fingers gentle and soothing.
"You've been through the wringer, darlin'," he says. "I'm gonna take care of you."
The way he says it makes it clear this isn't just a matter of compassion--there's heat in his words, heat that makes desire unfurl in my belly. I nod, licking my lips.
"Right...so we should start driving again, huh?" I ask.
"Yeah," he says. "Let's get home."
The rest of the drive is less than eventful, and we pull into Safe Harbor Animal Shelter around one o'clock. The shelter is about forty-five minutes away from Fern Hollow, on a big piece of property donated by some generous benefactor decades ago. There are all kinds of animals here--livestock as well as dogs and cats, rabbits and guinea pigs. I park the van in front of the shelter and one of the volunteers, Jenny, comes out to greet me.
"Hey, Sam!" she says. "How was the drive?"
"It was good!" I say, trying to play it cool in terms of just how good it was. "We've got fifteen dogs here ready to find their forever homes; are the kennels ready?"
"All set to go, and we can take over running them so you can head home to Alex," she says. Her eyes dart over to Evan. "And you must be the Hopeful Hearts guy?"
"Yeah," he says. "Evan Hart."
She snorts. "Is that a real last name?"
"Sure is," he chuckles. "Let's get to work?"
"Totally," she replies.
As we start unloading the dogs, Evan slips his hand into mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze. I glance up at him and he's smiling, his blue eyes warm and inviting.
"You okay?" he asks.
It's a loaded question, and I know what he's really asking. He wants to know if I'm ready to move on, if I'm ready to start something with him. And the truth is...I don't know.
But I'm not ready to let go of his hand yet, so I squeeze it back and say, "Yeah, I'm okay. Just...a lot to process."
He nods, and we keep working until all the dogs are settled into their kennels and we're ready to head out. I can't help but steal glances at the puppy I cuddled up with for part of the drive though, and my heart twists when I think about Alex's requests.
Yeah...I already have enough dogs at home.
But what's one more?
"Make that fourteen," I tell Jenny. "I'm taking one of them home."
Her eyes widen. "Another one?"
