And he had. On one of their city’s dinner cruises. They’d had steak and lobster by candlelight, seated outdoors at a balcony table with live music playing softly in the background. She remembered asking for honey mustard dressing on her salad. And liking the bread. She probably would have a hundred little image memories when she looked back on the night. But as they drove from the harbor back to her house, all Lacey could think about was Jem.
The way she’d caught his eye in the candlelight. The sound of his laughter when she’d been telling him about the time she and Kacey had hidden behind a sign in a subway station and had taken turns popping their heads out from behind it on opposite sides without leaving enough time for a person to have moved from one side to the other...
He’d put a tie on with dark pants and a white shirt and she just couldn’t stop consuming him with her senses. The musky scent. The slightly rough working-man hands that held her hand or touched her cheek so tenderly. The intense way he looked at her.
She ate dinner and left the boat hungry.
For him.
Life wasn’t perfect. And might not be easy. But there was no doubt in her mind anymore that Jem Bridges was more to her than just a man she’d met. More to her than any man she’d ever met.
They hadn’t talked any further about Tressa, other than for Jem to say that his ex-wife and Amelia were spending the weekend at the beach with a couple of Amelia’s friends.
Lacey also hadn’t talked to him about her suspicions regarding Tressa as a perpetrator of domestic violence against Levi. And Jem, too. She wasn’t his counselor and couldn’t be objective. She didn’t want to say something that would do more harm than good.
But she hadn’t forgotten. She knew that sometime before Tressa’s custodial visit the following weekend, she was going to have to let Sydney know about the scene she’d overheard between Jem and his ex-wife. The verbal abuse she’d witnessed. After she told Jem that she was going to call Sydney.
She just kept hoping that he’d come to the realization on his own, after everything that had happened with Levi—social services bursting into his life, the talks they’d had.
He was a thinker, someone who faced things head-on rather than avoided them. A doer. He didn’t run away from problems.
She wanted to give him time.
In the meantime, she wanted to give him...her. Not just her body, though she wanted that, too...but...
They reached his truck and he held the door open for her, pulling out the stepstool he’d surprised her with earlier so she didn’t have to step up so high in her dress.
Always the gentleman. A man’s man who’d protect those he cared about with his life. And yet...one who also seemed to respect a woman’s abilities as equal to his own. His willingness to look at his ex-wife as a whole person, to see her good, her value, had shown her how he respected women in a way nothing else could have done.
She fully believed now that Jem was a victim of domestic violence. But he was the least likely victim she’d met during the course of her career. She had no doubt that he had scars, markers from the damage done to him—psychological and emotional—and yet he was a well-adjusted, emotionally alive, funct
ioning adult. This spoke to her of his strength of character, his determination to be the best he could be.
She watched him walk around the truck. His ass looked the best in those pants.
God, she had it bad.
They were about two blocks from her house when he said, “I want to make love with you.”
“You’re welcome to come in for a while.” Her tongue practically stuck to the roof of her mouth. She’d never made an appointment for sex before. Or talked about doing it beforehand.
“I’d kind of planned to. I just want my intentions clear before I enter your home.”
The look he sent in her direction made her feel like a puddle on his seat. The trembling of her lips was her giveaway and she gave him a weak smile.
Good thing the inside of the truck was dark.
“I don’t think you do this lightly,” he said.
Was that going to be a problem for him? So...she’d change. Immediately. She could find a way to be casual about sex. Because she didn’t want to live without knowing what sex with him felt like.
“I don’t, either,” he told her.
Desire raced through her veins, but her mind slowed. “I didn’t think you did,” she said.
“What Tressa said the other night...”
She didn’t want his ex-wife there, but she experienced a moment of thrilled relief with the confirmation that he was thinking through the situation they’d left hanging openly right in front of them. But she still didn’t want her there.