He must have been leaving the shower when I texted him. His hair is still wet. His hands are tucked inside the pockets of his faded jeans and he’s wearing a gray Henley shirt that clings to his toned body perfectly. His jaw is covered with light scruff.
He scans my face intently until I feel heat fill my cheeks. I wet my lips and his gaze drops to my mouth, following my tongue but then goes further and drops to my chest. There hasn’t been any other incident since the “haul-me-over-the-shoulder-toss-me-on-the-couch” move he pulled when we last went out for dinner. As much as his behavior infuriated me, it was also the most exciting thing that has happened to me in a very long time. It was such a huge turn on.
Shit. My nipples are hard just thinking about that night.
He lifts his eyes to mine, his eyebrows raised as if to ask me, “Are you going to let me in? or what?”
I stumble aside and sign, “Please come in.”
He brushes past me, his scent wrapping around me.
I need to keep my tingling lady parts in check.
After closing the door, I lead the way to the living room, absorbing the heat from his body on my back.
“The girls?” he asks when we reach the living room.
I turn to face him, watching as he lowers his long frame on the couch. “Upstairs.” I’m extremely nervous so I opt to remain standing. “Thank you for coming.”
He nods, eyeing me as I continue to pace and wipe my hands down my jean shorts.
“I’ll go upstairs and get the girls.” I turn and go for the stairs.
“Nor.” His voice stops me. I whirl around and, as always, my heart is beating hard in my chest. “I’m here. I’m always here for you and the girls.”
I nod, spin around and start to climb the stairs. I pause, turn and walk back to stand in front of Cole. I take a deep breath and exhale the little pride left in me because I’m about to beg. Badly. Sometimes your first love comes back to you and you get a second chance. “If there is a second chance for us, no matter how small it is, I’ll take it. Love is what makes people fight harder for something they want to hold on to. I’m ready to fight for us. Whatever it takes. I will do anything to show you that you and I are not coincidental. We are more than that. We are Cole and Nor. Us.”
He cocks a brow and signs, “Aren’t you concerned about what people will say?”
I raise my chin, look him in the eye. “I don’t care what people will say. Everything you said. . .you were right.”
His arm lifts without warning and he wraps his fingers around my thigh, burning me with his touch. He drags me to stand between his legs and cups my backside firmly in his hands. He yanks me forward at the same time he leans his forehead to my body and kisses the tiny slip of skin peeking out between my T-shirt and shorts.
He tips his head up, meeting my gaze. “You and I are far from coincidental.”
He drops his hands from my body, leaving me tingling with need and hungry for more than a touch.
Framing my heated cheeks with my hands, I turn around and head for the stairs. The girls are not in their rooms, so I follow their voices to my room and stop to stare as Cora ties a knot on the blanket fort made of white bed sheets, with strings of lights dangling around it.
The first time Elise and the girls made a fort, Cora and Joce had argued about which room it would be built in. Eventually, we decided mine was the neutral ground. At that time, Josh was spending days on end in the hospital as the doctors tried to save him through chemo. So it was a comfort to have the girls in my room. Even though Josh and I shared a bed, we never got intimate. It was more for putting up appearances to the girls. Before Josh became really sick, he’d been seeing a girl he’d gone to college with. Then he stopped when he got too weak to go out. Megs and I made a plan to take him dancing or to a bar, just to hang out with a different crowd every once in a while, whenever he was well enough.
“Hey honey,” I say to Cora, scanning the room for Joce. “Where’s your sister?”
“She just went to her room to collect some things we need.”
“Can I talk to you two for a few minutes?”
Her hands holding a string of lights pause. She looks up. “Oh Mom! Can’t it wait? We’re almost done,” she whines.
“Cole is here.”
She drops the lights and grins wide. Gray eyes so like her father’s flash, hopping from one foot to the other. “Really? Oh my gosh. Joce! Uncle Cole is here!” she shrieks then darts out of the room. I trail after her and stop in the hallway.
Joce yells something from inside her room, then she’s zipping past me in the hallway and bounding down the stairs. I can’t believe that’s my always cool, calm and collected daughter. And it’s not like they don’t talk to him every day. Even on days he doesn’t drop by for a visit, which is extremely rare, he still chats with them on Skype. I’m grateful for that, because somehow, he has become a fixture in their lives. I suspect it also eased their pain of losing Josh.