“Text me when you get home.”
His smile lit the night. “I will. Now, back inside.”
I shut the door, smiling when I realized he hadn’t moved yet. I snapped the lock, then watched out the window as he left and drove away.
I was still smiling when his text came through.
I am home and already missing you. Thank you for a wonderful night. Sleep well.Monday suddenly felt very far away.JordanI woke on Sunday, my first thought that of Sandy. I stared out the window at the rising sun, remembering the evening, the laughter and teasing. The excitement in her eyes when she was on my boat. I was already planning on taking her out for the day. It was the perfect place to spend time with her. Something I loved, that wasn’t as connected to my past. Anna had never even stepped foot on the deck, she was so terrified of water. She had seen a picture and that was all. The boat, my Open Waters, would be a great place for me to spend time with Sandy, creating our own memories.
I also thought about our kiss. I thought I’d ruined the evening, and her reaction as I moved in closer seemed negative, so I had backed off. When she’d opened the door, I saw the same desire in her eyes as I was feeling, and I took full advantage of the moment.
I closed my eyes, thinking how Sandy had felt in my arms. It had been so long since I’d held a woman in my embrace that way. She was soft and yielding. Warm. She smelled like citrus and flowers—a delicate fragrance that was enticing and light. And when our mouths had met, the passion that coursed through my body was hot and bright. It still lingered, and my cock, which had been dormant for years, lay hot and heavy against my stomach, growing harder the more I thought of Sandy. It had taken everything I had not to deepen the kiss last night, shut the door behind me and stay with her. Kiss her until she begged for more and then make love to her.
But that was too fast, and I knew we would both regret it. Sandy wasn’t a fast flash for me. I already felt something for her—the feelings had been there longer than I was ready to admit to myself, but they were there. Last night had been the first time in years I hadn’t felt alone. The first time in many years I felt something other than sadness with only memories to smile about. It was as if I were waking up after a dormant period, my senses coming back to life, yearning to live again.
I slid my hand down my torso, wrapping it around my hard shaft, a low groan escaping as I stroked myself. It had been a long time for me.
It appeared that more than just my senses were waking up.
I threw back the covers and made my way to the shower.
It was time to see just how awake I was.I sipped my coffee, staring out into the backyard. I sighed, thinking about opening the pool, wondering if I would even bother this year. With Gina and the kids gone, last year, the pool sat mostly unused except for the few times I went in on a particularly hot day. I turned and looked around the house, recalling the conversation I’d had with Gina when they visited at Christmas.
“Have you thought about moving, Dad?” she asked as we went through a box of her mother’s belongings that I had put aside for her.
I glanced around the spare room. “At times,” I admitted. “How would you feel about that?”
She wrapped up a piece of crystal, sliding it into the box. “It’s a house, Dad. I would rather see you happy.” She sat down on the bed and took my hand. “You’ve mentioned rambling around in this place several times. I wondered if maybe it was time to move on.”
“Lots of memories here.”
She nodded. “The memories, you take with you. Maybe the sad reminders can stay behind.”
I had thought a lot about the conversation since then. She was right. I didn’t need a house with four bedrooms and twenty-five-hundred square feet to wander around in. I had a service that came in and cleaned the house, but the truth was, eighty percent of it was unused. I had another company come in and do the outside maintenance, but the gardens remained empty aside from the few perennials. Anna had loved gardening, but I was never big on it so had no interest in all the flowers and plants she would add every year, except to admire her handiwork. I had no desire to try to plant anything myself. The thought of another summer of trying to manage it all suddenly seemed a little overwhelming.