Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart 3)

A patter of footsteps came scurrying our way.

I froze, not sure what to do, realizing I was pinned.

Dillon groaned. “Oh, man, is this what it’s gonna be like all the time now? You two kissin’ away? Sheesh.”

He was all childlike outrage.

Maxon’s eyes fired, still pinned on me for a beat, wrought with something so severe my knees nearly buckled beneath the force of it. Then he fixed on a bright smile, turned around, and swept Dillon off his feet.

And then he was . . . oh God . . . he was peppering a million kisses all over Dillon’s sweet, chubby face, making my son shriek with laughter.

“What? You don’t like kisses?”

“Kisses are gross!”

“You better get used to them.”

“Why, ’cause you’re a part of the team now?” Dillon asked, still howling between the kisses Maxon was smacking all over his face, trying to deflect the assault and desperate for more of it at the same time.

Maxon shifted his gaze back to me, slowing as he tucked my 5-year-old to his side. He held him tight, as if he wasn’t ever gonna let go.

“Yeah, Lil’ Dill. Because I’m a part of the team now. No getting rid of me.”

* * *

“In you go,” I told Dillon who crawled into the backseat. “Buckle up.”

“Do we have to go?”

“We do, it’s late.”

“But we don’t even got school yet, not for two whole weeks,” he argued, his eyes begging like a puppy dog’s as he stared at Maxon who was lingering around by my back.

“You might not have school, but I have work.”

“Come on, Mr. Mack, tell her it’s early. We could play Mario for like . . . fifteen more minutes. That’s it. I promise.”

I could feel amusement riding off of Maxon, his hands going up in surrender. “If your mom says it’s time to go, it’s time to go.”

“Ah, man, always a funsucker.”

“Always a troublemaker,” I shot back, playfulness pulling at the corner of my mouth as I bantered with my son who always had something to say.

The quiet one was just smiling soft, content and happy after the amazing night we’d spent inside the walls of Maxon’s house.

Dinner so easy.

Light.

Laughter and conversation coming from the four of us. As if we’d been simply catching up at the end of a day that was just like any other. Funny, when it felt completely monumental.

As if we’d just shared our first real meal as a family.

That in itself was terrifying.

I needed to get out of there before my body settled right in.

Straightening, I backed out.

Of course, because I was fumbling and nervous, I had to go and bump right into Maxon.

His big hands went to my waist to steady me, and he pushed his nose into my hair at the back of my neck, and oh God, a shiver was flashing across my skin.

“Whoa, there,” he murmured, rough voice sending another rash of chills skatin’ free.

I managed a feeble smile as I stepped out of the way, and Maxon dipped down so he could lean inside the backdoor of the car. He reached across and ran his fingers through Dillon’s hair. “See you soon, Lil’ Dill.”

“When?”

“As soon as I can.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Maxon’s attention swept to the seat closest to him, and Benjamin was just sitting there, smile so bright.

“Pppromise?” he mimicked, his blue eyes wise and aware.

Maxon dipped down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I promise.”

He seemed reluctant to stand up, but he finally did, stepping back and shutting the door.

The light dimmed within, leaving us in the shadowy darkness out in front of his house, the light from the porch barely making it this distance.

I swallowed around a lump the size of a grapefruit that had taken up residence in my throat. A chaotic disorder of what I wanted and what I knew would be so reckless to give in to.

“Thank you so much for dinner,” I managed. “It was wonderful. The boys had so much fun. I’m sure my mama and daddy were happy for the break from the noise, too.”

There I went, assigning this a different meaning.

But it felt so much safer than taking on the meaning that was roiling through Maxon’s expression.

“I’ll see you later,” I said, floundering around for the doorlatch.

Needing an escape.

But there was no escaping the impact of his words that hit me from behind. “Could you see it, Izzy? Us doing this? Every day?”

I whirled back around, and my back hit the door. I was sure it was the only thing that was keeping me standing.

And there it was.

That fork in the road.

A decision to be made.

He was so beautiful, staring back at me, his shoulders heaving with the exertion I could see him using to keep himself standing there.

From not surging forward.

Taking me the way we both knew I wanted to be taken.

I blinked at him, moisture hazing my sight, my heart lumbering with the savage force of the memories that broke free.