Nope. No way was I answering that question.
Luckily, I didn’t have to because, just as Kristen pulled open the door, ready to give Seth the tongue-lashing of his life, the air went static.
“Oh shit,” Kristen mumbled, glancing back at me, her eyes wide with apology.
His gaze found mine over the top of Kristen’s head. It dropped to my hand on Roman’s stomach as he said, “Liz?”
“Jon. Hey!” she said in surprise, immediately evacuating her position at my side and hurrying toward the door. “Wh-what are you doing here?”
The man’s eyes focused on me as he absently answered, “You didn’t show up at the Victorian. Been calling for the last hour. I got worried.”
I trailed after her, doing my best not to show the rage boiling in my veins or the sour churning in my gut.
For the love of all that’s holy, don’t let this be her boyfriend.
She stepped in front of Kristen, forcing her to move from the doorway. “Shit. I’m sorry. Today’s been crazy.”
Jon’s gaze flashed to mine as he shifted awkwardly in the doorway. “I can see.”
It hadn’t exactly been said in an asshole tone, but that was up for interpretation. However, just the fact that he was standing in Elisabeth’s doorway had my interpretation skewed—and not in his favor.
Shoving my hand over her shoulder to offer a shake, I smiled something that I hoped read: Hi, how ya doing? Meanwhile, my eyes read: If you’ve ever touched her, that shit is officially over. But it was my mouth that said, “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Roman Leblanc, Elisabeth’s husband.”
Her body went solid before she corrected, “Ex! Ex-husband.”
I shrugged and kept my eyes on Jon as I stated, “That’s debatable.”
“It’s not debatable!” she yelled over her shoulder at me. Then she looked back at the asshole and said, “He’s my ex-husband.”
“We’re still figuring that part out,” I amended.
Jon’s eyes bounced between us as he silently took us in. By the frustration and disappointment coloring his face, he was coming to the correct conclusion.
Or at least correct as far as I was concerned.
Elisabeth was on a slightly different page.
“We’re not figuring anything out!” she exclaimed, shoving my unshaken hand back over her shoulder. “Come on, Jon. Let’s talk on the porch.”
I should have let her go. I had no reason to be jealous. The connection Elisabeth and I shared was undeniable, no matter how much she tried to pretend she hated me. Hell, she had reason to hate me, but she’d spent the day in my arms, reminding me that I’d been living half of a life for the last two years. And, moments before this guy had arrived, her face had been red, her hand had been clutching my shirt, and a soft moan had escaped her throat. There was no fucking way I was losing that.
She might have been confused about who she belonged to.
But Jon would not walk out of that house without being fully informed.
Stepping in front of her, I slid a hand up her neck and into her hair, gently fisting until it forced her head back. Her breath caught as I leaned into her face, and I took great pleasure in the goose bumps that pebbled her smooth skin.
Brushing my nose with hers, I whispered, “Hurry up, baby. Sushi’s waiting.”
She stared, her lips parting as I licked my own. She was in my trance. I recognized it because I’d been lost in hers for nearly a decade.
Ever so slightly, she tipped her chin up, offering me the lips I was starved for. I could have taken her right there in front of Kristen, Jon, and the entire fucking city of Atlanta and she would have come willingly.
“Always so fucking ready for me,” I murmured.
I wanted to kiss her—and never stop.
Unless it was to move my mouth between her legs.
At the thought, a low sound rumbled in my throat, and she suddenly came alert.
She blinked once, twice, and then I lost her.
Her hand went to my shoulder, shoving roughly as she seethed, “Let me go.”
Tightening my fist in her hair, I whispered, “Never,” before releasing her. Smiling at the man fuming in the doorway, I called out, “Nice to meet you, Jon,” as I casually turned and walked back to the kitchen.
When I heard the front door slam behind me, my shoulders fell and I closed my eyes. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I propped myself up on a white-knuckled fist on the island.
“Wow,” Kristen breathed behind me. “That was…”
Fuck. Time to be bitched at.
I lifted a hand to silence her. “I don’t want to hear it. I need a fucking drink, not a lecture.”
Her open hand landed hard on my shoulder, and my eyes popped open.
“Holy shit! That was incredible.” She laughed.
A shy smile tipped one side of my lips. I asked nervously, “Yeah? You think?”