She waves a hand. “Yeah, I know all that.”
But does she?
She bites her bottom lip. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
My stomach sinks. I took a chance last night, crossed a line by telling her how I feel. “You’re saying this can’t happen.”
She shakes her head then she rises to her knees and straddles my lap.
I draw in a ragged breath—because fuck, I like her here—but I keep my hands fisted at my sides. “Tell me what you want.”
She flattens her hands against my chest and lowers her head to sweep her lips across mine. Lust surges down my spine.
“I’m saying,” she whispers, “this is all I can give.” She threads her fingers through my hair and nips at my lips. “But it’s yours—if you want it. Just this, for as long as I’m staying here.”
I grab her waist with one hand and thread the other through her hair. When I sweep my tongue across her lips, she moans and arches into me as I press my mouth to hers.
I can hardly think about what she’s telling me. I can hardly think about anything more than her mouth on mine and the way she feels straddling my lap. She deepens the kiss, and I’m ready to flip her onto her back and peel off her clothes when I hear the front door open and close.
“Mommy!”
At the sound of Noah’s voice, she scrambles off the bed, breathing hard. “You understand?”
“Mommy?”
I take a breath and try to direct the oxygen to my brain. I understand, but I don’t like it. “I get it.” I nod. I’m a guy, and Molly’s a beautiful woman. I should feel like I’ve won the lottery. But we haven’t even started, and I already know it’s not enough. She’s offering her body, and if that wasn’t enough for me seven months ago when she lived in New York, it’s not going to be enough now. Not now that she’s here. Not now that I know her and see her.
She gives me one more once-over before backing out of the room to greet her son.
Molly
Noah and I spend Saturday morning together in the snow. I only have a few hours with him before Mom comes back to pick him up so I can go to work to set up for the local bank’s Christmas party.
Noah and I built two snowpeople. His is a boy wearing a blue tie, and mine is a girl with a pink beret—both accessories were thrift-store finds I bought for Noah’s dress-up box months ago. Noah giggles himself silly when Brayden comes out back to put sunglasses on both of our creations.
“What?” Brayden asks. “It’s sunny, and snowman eyes are very sensitive.”
“Excuse me, sir, but mine is a snowgirl,” I say, propping my hands on my hips. “She doesn’t appreciate being called a man.”
Brayden presses one hand against his chest and bows dramatically before my snowgirl. “My apologies, fair snow maiden. Please forgive my thoughtlessness and tell me how I can make it up to you.”
“She can’t talk,” Noah says around a squeaky laugh. “She’s made of snow.”
Brayden covers her ears and gapes at Noah. “Now you’ve hurt her feelings too.”
Noah frowns then walks slowly up to my snowgirl and kisses her cheek. “Sorry, snowgirl.”
Brayden dips his head to put his ear next to the snowgirl’s mouth. “What’s that? Oh, really?” He turns to Noah. “She said that she forgives you, and because she wants to be friends, she’s put some of her special magic hot chocolate on the table inside.”
Noah perks up at the mention of hot chocolate, then looks to me. “Can I go see?”
“Of course, buddy. Go on in. I’m going to clean up a few things out here.”
Noah races into the house, leaving Brayden and me alone in the backyard.
I swallow hard as I turn to him. My heart’s just too full. “Thank you.”
He brushes the falling snow from his dark hair. “For what?”
“For being so good with him. For never . . .” My gaze goes to the house, where I can see Noah at the counter with his mug of hot chocolate. “For never getting annoyed that he’s around. Even if it means interrupting an important conversation.”
Brayden’s smile is gentle but full, and it sends a shower of snow flurries through my belly. “I like Noah, and I like when he’s around. As for this morning’s conversation . . .” He takes a breath, then tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear. “I think I was done talking by the time he came in anyway.”
He skims his thumb along my jaw, and heat rushes through my blood as I imagine what might have happened if I’d found the courage to go to Brayden’s room at five when I first heard him up. His gaze drops to my mouth, his pupils dilating. I know he’s thinking the same thing I am. “You should go inside and drink your magical hot chocolate before it goes cold.”