After they got past mourning.
In living color, the film resumed in his head. Trevor’s beet-red face all scrunched up, dark matted hair, scrawny long body and flailing limbs. Ten fingers, ten toes. Like almost every other parent, he’d counted. Ugly—newborns were, by any objective standards.
Love.
Richard wanted to be glad this baby would live, whatever the sacrifice on Trevor’s and Cait’s part—hell, on his and Molly’s, too—but he couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to think that letting this child be born and giving it away was the right thing to do.
He wished suddenly that Molly hadn’t had a lunch meeting. It wasn’t so much sex he wanted right now as to see her. To talk to her. He wanted to have the right to go to her house tonight, ring the doorbell, walk in and kiss her. Maybe cuddle her on the sofa while they watched TV or only talked. That wasn’t so unreasonable, was it?
He knew that, if this thing they had lasted, eventually they’d be free to take it anywhere they wanted. But Richard was discovering that he wasn’t nearly as patient a man as he’d thought he was.
* * *
“YOU WANT TO COME OVER for a bit?” Molly asked. “Cait’s spending the evening at the library studying.”
“You’re sure?”
“Sure she’s going? Or that I want you here?”
“Sure it’s safe.”
She grimaced. “This is so pathetic.”
“Yeah, it is.” He laughed then. “I’m on my way. And it doesn’t matter if she comes home before I leave. She knows we talk, right?”
Molly relaxed. “Yes, I haven’t hidden that. She doesn’t know how often, but she’s heard me on the phone with you a few times.”
“Trevor, too, but he doesn’t approve. He thinks we should butt out, that he and Cait are dealing.”
“Is that a quote?” she asked, amused.
“Direct,” he assured her.
She was still laughing when he was gone. She couldn’t resist dashing upstairs to brush her hair and make sure she hadn’t dribbled pesto down the front of her shirt. And brushing her teeth wouldn’t hurt, would it?
The doorbell rang not ten minutes later. Richard hadn’t wasted any time getting here. When she opened the door, he stepped inside and gathered her into his arms, kicking it shut behind him.
“I thought all day about you,” he muttered. “This keeping my distance thing isn’t working for me.”
Alarmed, she drew back. “We have to.”
“I know, I know. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“No. Me, either.” She leaned into him. His hands were roving, seemingly sampling the sharpness of shoulder blades, the indented line of vertebrae down her back, the curve of her waist and—no surprise—the plumper contours of her butt. She loved having his hands on her. She loved nestling her head in the crook between his shoulder and neck and inhaling his essence. For the first time all day, she felt…right. “Why today more than usual?” she asked. “Did something happen?”
His hands went still. “Alexa called.”
For a moment, she quit breathing, too. Not liking the sharp edge of something that felt like jealousy, Molly reasoned with herself. It was surely natural he’d talk regularly to his ex considering they shared two children, even if it hadn’t worked out that way for Colt and her. Plus—if talking to Alexa had set him to craving Molly, that couldn’t be a bad thing.
She stepped back, making sure the motion seemed casual. “Any special reason?” she asked, leading the way to the living room.
“Brianna tells her Trev sounds more like himself. Not psycho-off-his-rocker, as my daughter puts it.”
Laughing, Molly started to settle on the sofa, then stopped herself before she could sink down. “Do you want tea or coffee? I assume you’ve eaten.”
“I only want you.” His eyes were especially dark and hungry. “I had this fantasy all afternoon.”
She plopped down. “Cait could come home.”
“Sex wasn’t the fantasy, although I indulge in that one pretty often, too.”
She took his hand and pulled him down beside her. His arm came around her shoulders and he pulled her close. She felt him rubbing his cheek against her hair.
“This was the fantasy,” he said softly. “Holding you, talking, maybe watching TV. You know. Normal stuff. But all done with you.”
Her heart took a peculiar jump usually triggered by too much caffeine. “Oh.”
“I was really glad to hear from you.” His voice was husky, and more than her heart zinged.
“I’m glad you could come.”