She shrugged.
“In the meantime, love can be a bitch. This, I know.”
“Shelley didn’t value you or love you.”
I picked up my wine glass, downing the last bit. “She did at one time. Or maybe not. I don’t know. Sometimes, I don’t think we really knew each other.”
“You’re not an easy man to know,” she said.
I looked at her. “So, it’s my fault?”
“Hell no. Shelley was an idiot to leave you. I’m just saying, there’s a part of you that you keep to yourself.”
I nodded, thinking she was probably right. But I believed it was the result of my relationship with Shelley and not something I did before. “What about now? There must be a young man in your life.”
She quirked a brow. “Right now, I’m married to you, and we agreed there wouldn’t be any straying.”
Oh. Right.
“But no. There’s no one,” she said.
“I hope this deal isn’t going to crimp your love life. Salvation is a small town, but there is a small nightlife.”
She shook her head. “I’m not the clubbing type. Not anymore, anyway. I’m focused on my career and helping my dad.”
I reached out, taking her hand and doing my damnedest to ignore the spark of electricity that zapped when I touched her. “You’re a good daughter, Brooke. Your father is lucky to have you.”
“He’s lucky to have us both,” she said, turning her hand over to squeeze mine.
We finished dinner, continuing to chat. Now that the ice was broken, the meal was enjoyable, filled with laughter and more wine. She was right. She wasn’t a child. She’d grown into a smart woman, secure in who she was and what she wanted. That didn’t mean she was now available to me. She was still nearly two decades younger than me and Frank’s daughter. There’d never be a time when it would be okay for me to want her.
“I should clean up,” she said.
“Let me help.” I stood, picking up my plate.
“If you have work to do or something, I can do them.” She started running the water and opened the dishwasher.
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” I joked.
She grinned at me, and I had that urge again to kiss her. She was so damn beautiful. And sweet.
“I’m trying to give you an out from doing the dishes. My dad usually takes it.”
I shrugged. “I can help you.” The truth was, I didn’t want to leave her. Not yet. A warning bell went off in my head at this. Frank entrusted me with his daughter. If he knew I was having carnal thoughts about her, he’d kill me.
We worked together, her rinsing and me loading the dishes in the dishwasher. She wiped down the counter as I dried the few pots that didn’t go into the machine. When I finished, I
went to hang the towel to dry. I had to reach across Brooke to put it on the hook. The move brought me close to her. Close enough to feel her heat. To inhale that sweet, summery scent.
Her breath hitched. I looked down into her big blue eyes. My gaze drifted down to her pink cupid lips, and I had a flash to four years ago and how wonderful they’d tasted. The warning bell turned into a full-out siren, but I ignored it.
Instead, I found myself pulled to her. Like a magnet, my head inched closer to her. My gaze returned to hers, and I wondered what was going through her mind. She held my gaze. She wanted this, but this time she wasn’t taking. If this was going to happen, it was going to be because I initiated it.
Back away, my brain screamed. My body didn’t respond, at least not to move away. My dick did respond. It was full and hard, getting fuller and harder with each passing second. His need slowly pushed away all the reasons why being with her was a bad idea. Instead, he focused on the memory of how soft her lips were and how silky her skin was. How good she tasted four years ago. How he’d never had the chance to fuck her. All common sense wore away until I had no choice but to take what I’d denied myself four years ago.
I dipped my head the final inches, pressing my lips to hers. An explosion of taste and sensation blasted through me just like four years ago. Her lips were soft, sweet, and warm, just like they’d been all those years ago.
She moaned, and her fingers gripped my shirt, her hips pressing against my aching dick. The feel of her rubbing over me, the friction on my dick, was the final straw. A flash fire surged through my veins. I moved her, pushing her against the kitchen table, lifting her and stepping between her thighs. Her arms and legs wrapped around me. She let out a soft mewing sound, and I was lost.