Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 101254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
I turn back to face him. “Did you?”
He shakes his head. “I did it before I left home, and my God, you have no idea.”
I look down. “I didn’t appreciate what I had.”
“Of course you did.” He moves another step closer. “You kept a good relationship with your mom and dad, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“You had to find your own way. Everyone does. There’s nothing saying you can’t go back to your religion if you want to.”
“Except I don’t really want to.”
“And that’s okay, too.”
“Mommy and Da were so disappointed when I left the church.”
“But you’re you, Tessa, and they both still loved you.”
I smile weakly. “Yes, they did.”
“See?”
I close my eyes, images appearing in my mind. Of my brown-haired and sparkling-eyed father hoisting me up and playing rocket ship when I was a little girl. Helping me decorate Christmas cookies when Mommy and Nana made them. Holding me and letting me cry into his shoulder when Nana passed away, telling me, “Da will always be here for you, Tessa. Always.”
And when I spent my first weekend at home after college. His face lit up when he saw me, and he captured me in a huge bear hug. And then he asked me the dreaded question. I inhale a deep breath. “I remember one time when I was home for the weekend, I went to Mass with Eva and my parents. My father asked me if I’d been going to Mass at school, and I lied to him. I told him yes.”
Ben chuckles lightly. “I don’t know of any kid who hasn’t lied to his parents.”
I open my eyes. “But that’s not the thing. He looked at me, looked me directly in the eye, and said, ‘Don’t you ever lie to me again, Teresa.’”
“So he knew.”
“He did. He had some sort of sixth sense when it came to me lying. And he didn’t berate me about not going to Mass. What was more important to him was the lie.”
“It sounds like he was an amazing father.”
“He was.” I sniffle, holding back a light sob. “He really, really was. I was closer to him than to my mother, to be honest. I was probably closest to Nana, my mother’s mother, but when she passed away, my father became my rock.”
“Tessa…”
I meet his gaze.
“Please, let’s go inside.”
I shake my head.
Tilt my chin upward. Do you think you’ll ever kiss me?
But the words don’t make it out of my mouth.
Ben moves toward me, closer, as if in slow motion.
And Ben—strong, handsome, wonderful Ben—touches his lips to mine like a gentle stroke of a watercolor brush.
I part my lips, and fireworks shoot through me.
I’ve never waited so long for a kiss, never wanted a kiss so badly, and this kiss lives up to every expectation I had.
He slides his tongue between my lips, slowly at first, but then he deepens the kiss. Our lips cling together, and my breath catches my throat.
He cups both my cheeks.
A face holder.
I love a face holder.
The kiss lingers, and my nipples harden, my pussy pulses.
Feelings I never thought I’d have again, and I’m having them from a mere kiss.
Perhaps it’s because I’ve anticipated it for so long.
It’s perfection.
Such perfection.
Just the kiss…
Nothing else matters.
Not anything.
As the rain falls, the drops tumbling over us, for the first time in a long time—maybe since that last time I scrambled off Nana’s lap before my first communion—all is right with the world.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Ben
I said I was waiting for the right moment.
Turns out the right moment was in her mother’s backyard, after her father’s funeral, while raindrops are pummeling us.
She parts her lips, and I dart my tongue between them. A soft sigh leaves her throat and vibrates against me. The kiss is gentle at first, exploratory, until—
Tessa wraps her arms around my neck and deepens the kiss. Shivers course through me—from the rain or the kiss?
It’s the kiss. This fucking spectacular, perfect kiss.
Our lips slide together, and the sensation is electrifying.
Yes, the perfect time. The right moment.
The perfect kiss.
She pulls back a few minutes later and gasps in a breath.
I slide my finger over the contours of her cheek and jawline and then over her bottom lip, which is swollen from our kiss. “You okay?”
She simply nods, grabs my hand, and leads me back into the house through the double doors that lead to her mother’s large kitchen. Before we enter, though, she stops me.
She smiles at me, drops of rain catching on her lashes. “You were right, Ben. The earth moved.” She grabs my hand and pulls me through the doors into the kitchen.
I inhale the spicy and robust scent of the Mexican food. I haven’t eaten anything, and my stomach responds with a growl.
“Tessa!” Mrs. Logan says, entering the kitchen. She’s a beautiful woman, but her eyes are sunken and sad. “My goodness, what were you doing out there? I thought you had gone to your room. You’re soaking wet.”