Only One Night (Only One 3)

The doorbell rings, and I put down the remote next to the glass of wine and make my way to the front door. I unlock the door and open it, expecting the delivery guy, but it’s not.

“Manning,” I whisper. He stands there in his suit with his hands in his pockets, and he looks even better than he did in the club. “What are you doing here?”

“I . . .” He starts to say, and he looks up at the sky. “I know I shouldn’t be here. I know that.”

I don’t say anything to him. I can’t because I’m still in shock. “I was trying to tell myself not to come and this was a bad idea. But my car started coming here, and I just,” he says, “I couldn’t not see you.”

He walks toward me now, my heart beating in my chest. “Manning,” I say his name.

It’s the only thing I can actually say. His hands come up to my face. “Evelyn,” he says, rubbing my cheeks with his thumbs. “You saw Jaxon?” he says, and I nod my head. “I have never been so jealous of my son before in my life.” He smiles, and I can’t stop the smile that fills my face. I couldn’t if I tried. “I can’t stay away from you.” He bends his head, so our foreheads meet. “Your face,” he says. “It haunts my dreams.”

A tear escapes my eyes. “I watched you last night.” I finally say the only words that come out. “I couldn’t last for more than three minutes without my chest hurting.”

“Evelyn,” he whispers, and my heart speeds up, my stomach flips, and I know what he’s waiting for. I know he won’t go any further until I tell him it’s okay. I know that no matter how much he wants me, no matter how much it kills him, he will not make the next move. It’s up to me.

“Manning,” I whisper. It’s the only thing I say before I make a move. I move my head just a touch so my lips touch his, enough for him to know I’m okay with this. “Manning.” It’s the last thing I say before his mouth claims mine again, and I feel like I’ve been kissing him my whole life. I feel like this is where I was always supposed to be. But with his lips on mine, everything else disappears.

Chapter 17

Manning

“Evelyn,” I say. My hands are tangled in her hair after she asked me to kiss her. I bend my head again and take her lips. This kiss is like nothing I remembered. Our tongues dance together softly, gently as we savor this fucking moment. I’m about to pick her up when I hear a car approaching. I turn to see a car parking in her driveway.

“Go inside,” she tells me, and I suddenly wonder if she was expecting someone. My eyes watch the guy open the driver’s door and then lean over to the passenger side. “It’s my food. He might recognize you,” she says, and I nod my head. I hate that I have to leave her out here by herself. Hate it. I walk into the house and go to the family room, and I look around. Her light gray couch is in the middle of the room with plush black pillows. An oversized gray table is in the middle of the room in front of the television hanging on the wall and is paused on some show. I see a glass of wine on the table. I look around, seeing family pictures placed on the side tables. She’s been here for less than a month, and this house already feels like a home.

I didn’t know what to expect when I rang the doorbell. I didn’t even know if she would let me in. It didn’t matter, though, because there was only one thing that mattered. I had to see her, even if it was six feet apart. Even if she slammed the door in my face, I knew that I had to see her.

“Sorry,” she says, coming back, and I see that she has on shorts under her long robe. “I just didn’t want the guy to see you and then make trouble for you.” The feeling happens again in my heart—like a thud—but I’m not sure what it is.

“You were worried about me?” I ask, not sure I understand it.

“Well . . .” She puts the brown paper bag on the counter, then turns to me. “He might know who you are and wonder why you’re here.” I nod my head, hating another thing that comes with the territory that I’m in. “Did you eat?” she asks, and I nod as she walks to me. “I can’t believe you’re here,” she says softly.

“Trust me, I know,” I say. I want to take off my jacket and sit on the couch with her so we can talk. She walks to me, grabbing my hand and pulling me to the couch.