But Elodie… Clay had never considered Elodie in a sexual manner, but apparently his body had. She was the only woman to have inspired this response in him in five years, and it made him want to take another look at her—and watching her eat this dessert was just about going to kill him, he could tell.
She was unselfconsciously sexy. Clay knew that Elodie wasn't trying to entice him—exactly the opposite was true, in fact. She wanted to melt into the woodwork with pretty much anyone, especially him, apparently. But she was taking a spoonful of that decadent dessert and eating it, then pulling the spoon out of her mouth very, very slowly, with her eyes closed, her face the very picture of bliss.
He wanted to see her like that, but not in relation to food. He was getting more and more uncomfortable by the second, having to shift in the chair and try to adjust himself as discreetly as possible. He was afraid that, when he had to stand up when they left, the evidence of his desire was going to be in plain sight.
Clay barely had one bite of the brownie—he was spending all his time watching her, although he tried not to let her see it, knowing she would stop as soon as she realized that his eyes were on her.
All good things must come to an end, though. Elodie put her spoon down in the bowl and looked up at him sheepishly. "I'm so sorry! I ate the whole thing on you! It just tasted so good—"
"No problem at all. I don't need it anyway, and I much preferred watching you enjoy it so much."
She blushed the way she always did, but she seemed happy and content for the first time the whole evening, and he found himself wanting to make her feel that way again.
They each had a cup of coffee, which gave him just about the time he needed to recover some control over himself. He realized, in his truck on the way back to her place, that he didn't want to let her go. But when he suggested that he come up to her apartment, she got that wary look in her eyes again, and practically backed out of the truck and away from him.
"I'm fine. I can let myself in. No need for you to get out of the warm truck," she said as she quickly shut the door and made her way to the rundown apartment building.
"Hold on!" he called as he killed the engine and bolted after her. "You are stripping me of my gentlemanly duty of walking a lady to the door."
Clay caught up with her at the top of the stairs and, without thinking and acting on impulse alone, followed an age-old instinct. He took her into his arms and bent her back, making it necessary for her to reach up and cup the back of his neck to maintain her balance. Those small, soft fingers landed on his sensitive nape as he settled his mouth gently down onto hers.
Elodie's mouth was open from the shock of it, and Clay took advantage of that fact, slipping his tongue past her lips to plunder beyond. She still tasted of caramel and chocolate, and he wanted more. He wanted all of her, and the need that washed over him was so great, he wasn't at all sure he could control it. It flooded through him like an avalanche, leaving him aching for her, for every inch of her. Always, before, there had been April to sate his voracious desires.
Now, as he was beginning to see, there was Elodie—to both spark and satiate his appetite.
And he wanted her.
And he would have her.
"Clay…" She murmured against his lips, but didn't pull away.
He continued to dance his tongue with hers, feeling sensations course through his body that he had thought long dead. For the first time since April's death, he felt alive again. Truly alive. His heart beat harder with every second of the kiss. It was almost as if Elodie was breathing life into his soul once again.
"Clay," she breathed again, this time putting her hand against his chest and softly pushing him away. "This is wrong. We can't."
Shaking his head, he continued the kiss. He didn't want to stop and face the harsh reality of their situation, but she continued to press away. Reluctantly, he pulled back to stare into her startled, wide eyes. "Tell me it doesn't feel right," he said.
"It does," she whispered. "But we can't… April."
He positioned her body so he could embrace her fully against his chest and stroked the back of her head, not sure he could find the right words to say. "She's been gone a long time, Elodie."
She snuggled her face against his chest, clearly enjoying the close proximity as much as he. "She has. But she was your wife, and my sister. This isn't right."
A small bubble of rage attacked his core at the unfairness of his fate. "Says who? Who gets to make the rules in something so tragic as this? Is there some rulebook I'm not aware of? This is between you and me, and us alone." He pulled her off his chest so he could stare directly in her eyes. "I don't have the answers. I don't know how to make this right. But I know I feel something, and I know you feel something, too. What that is? I don't know." He kissed her softly on the lips before adding, "All I ask is that we walk toward what could be between you and I instead of pushing away. Let's at least be open to the possibility. Okay?"