Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“You feel so good,” he whispers against my mouth. “So right…”
We can’t get close enough. I hook my leg around his waist and he melts deeper into me. Together we move as one. Slower, softer. He nibbles the side of my mouth and I hold his face, kiss the side of his. My lips part and his tongue brushes against mine. It’s a teasing game of advance and retreat while his hands rake through my hair and close into a steady grip.
I’ve never been kissed like this before. With life-consuming passion. I never knew it could even be like this. I haven’t had a lot of experience kissing––only a few men to compare him to––but I’m pretty sure there’s enough energy traveling between us right now to knock out the power grid. Then we both hear it, Maisie talking on the baby monitor, and everything comes to an immediate, grinding halt.
He pulls back, panting. With his hands planted by my head, his hips dig even deeper into mine. It’s the biggest tease ever. I nearly come undone right then.
“I’m sorry,” he croaks, exhaling roughly. “I shouldn’t have. I––”
“It’s fine, Jordan.”
He gets up and I’m forced to stare up at him, his erection pushing hard against the tented fabric. I have to bite my lips not to laugh at the kickstand in his pants. He shakes his head. But then he pulls me up, pulls me closer, wraps a hand around my hip and plants a soft sweet kiss on the hypersensitive skin on my neck.
He blinks. More silence from him. Another unspoken message I can’t understand passes between us. His gaze goes soft while his body remains hard against mine. He places the lightest kiss on my lips, strokes my cheek. Then, without a word, he walks out, leaving me with a lot of questions and even more unresolved feelings about what just happened between us. Then again, strange seems to be our thing.
The next day, I get a text around noon.
Grim: I found Eli. Pack a bag.
13
Chapter Thirteen
Riley
The ride to Cape Cod goes faster than I anticipated. I’ve never been this far north, never had a reason to, so I’m excited about this trip. Maybe it’s because everything seems new. Maybe because it’s a beautiful sunny day at the end of September and cooler in New England; the trees up I-95 are beginning to turn color, spots of red and yellow exploding out of green. Or maybe it’s because of the man sitting in the driver’s seat. That’s probably closer to the truth.
Other than to tell me he wants to stop in Rhode Island to have lunch––he wants to introduce me to the “best lobster roll on the East Coast”––he’s been quiet. We haven’t spoken about the kiss and it’s sitting between us right now like a teenage pregnancy. It doesn’t matter how much we both pretend it didn’t happen, it’s not going away.
We pass quaint seaside town after quaint seaside town, most all of them with small ports dotted with sailboats. Every town feels like it’s out of the Hallmark Channel. I could use a little of that in my life. It makes me realize how much I haven’t seen. How much I’m missing out on.
“Boat,” Maisie says, pointing to an older, faded red one moored to the dock. Jordan got us a table by the water at the restaurant with the “best lobster rolls on the East Coast.” We set up her high chair to face the boats and she seems to be very taken with them.
“Red boat,” I tell her.
“Red boat,” she repeats immediately.
She’s been putting two words together a lot more lately. Every time she learns something new or has a new experience, I can’t help but wonder if Lainey knows. If she can see her baby growing up so fast…and happy. I know Jordan thinks about it. Even if he doesn’t share his thoughts. I see him watching her with a faraway expression more and more lately. I’m just not brave enough to ask what he’s thinking.
He who is brave is free…my Dad had that tattooed on his shoulder. I guess that says a lot about me.
I catch Jordan staring at my lips for the second time since we sat down, a streak of color running across his cheekbones. This is getting a little ridiculous. We both know this is going to happen. We’ve been dancing around it for two months. It’s starting to feel like the longest game of foreplay in the history of human civilization.
But is it a mistake? Because there’s right and there’s wrong and he and I are all kinds of wrong.
Then there’s Maisie. It’s going to be hard letting her go and nothing can prepare me for that. We’re both going to miss her, excruciatingly so. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’m curious to see what Jordan and I are like without her. We’ve been operating as de facto parents for so long that maybe this doesn’t work at all. Who knows, maybe after Maisie’s gone he’ll lose interest in me altogether.