Sinful Love (Sinful Nights #4)

Her stomach swooped, remembering last night, fast-forwarding to what might happen this afternoon.

Julien had wanted her to move on. Her sister wanted her to move on. She didn’t think she’d ever want to love again. It was too risky, too dangerous. What if she let herself, then lost again? She shuddered at the thought. Once was hard enough to find the man you love gone from this world.

But a moment, a snapshot of not feeling so goddamn empty and lonely? She’d experienced that last night. She’d held it in the palm of her hands, owned it deep in her chest.

That.

She wanted that. She was so fucking tired of denying herself everything good in the world.





CHAPTER EIGHT


Eighteen years ago

“You want to do this?” Thomas scooped some pepper steak from the buffet onto his plate, eyeing his eldest son.

“I do,” Michael said with a crisp nod, a fierce certainty in his stare. Thomas’s son had his eyes—cool and ice blue. Some people thought that meant he didn’t care. Hardly. Thomas cared too much at times. About everything. About his wife and how distant she’d become during the last several months. About his children and how they were growing up so damn fast. About his present job and the one that he wanted to do, the one that would make it possible for him to do more for his kids.

Right now, though—as his sixteen-year-old son spooned lo mein from the silver vat at their favorite cheap Chinese restaurant, the one that boasted all-you-can-eat for $4.29 a person—he cared about Michael. The kid was a chip off the old block. He’d fallen madly in love at such a young age. Hell, Thomas knew what that was like.

He’d been like his son, crazy for the girl in high school. Course, he’d gone and married her a few years later, and they’d had their first kid when they were both only twenty and scraping by at crummy jobs. No college, no nothing. That was why he was heading to night school after this meal, to shore up on his associates degree in accounting. A practical skill, and one that would surely help him get the job he wanted.

If he scored the new gig, that would spell opportunity for his kids. “All right, let’s find a way to get you to Paris next year.”

“Dad, you think I’m crazy, don’t you?” Michael asked when they sat down at an orange booth with cracked vinyl seats.

“For being in love?” Thomas raised an eyebrow.

“For wanting to be with someone who’s going to be really far away.”

Thomas shrugged happily. “Nah, love is good. Chase it. Embrace it. You’re focused and driven in other areas of life, and now you’re that way about her.”

He’d do everything he could to help Michael follow the girl. He’d help him go to college abroad if he could pull it off. Help him see her more. A love like that, you didn’t throw away. Especially with Annalise. She was a special girl; she’d do right by his son. It was a long shot, a Hail Mary pass, but maybe Michael could nab a scholarship at a university in Europe, find some study program for Americans, and learn the French language.

But even if he landed financial aid, they’d need money for airfare and lots of new expenses. Ergo, Thomas needed a new job badly. Being a limo driver only got you so far. Sure, it was a step up from driving cabs, which he’d done for years, but he’d have to reach higher.

“How would we ever be able to pay for it?” his son asked him as he picked up his fork and dug into the steak.

Thomas rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s a promotion opening up at work. Think I’m going to apply for it.”

“You are?”

“Can you see me being a desk jockey? Instead of a driver?” he said with a wry smile.

“Sure. Why not? You already have to wear a suit and tie.”

Thomas wanted that job. Wanted it badly. Wanted the bigger salary to help fund his kids’ dreams.

That night at class, he focused on how to apply his newfound math skills to the job application, and when he returned home he told his wife about an upcoming work party.

“We should go. I think it’ll help as I try to get a new job. Get to know the people in the other departments,” he said as he took off his jacket.

She glanced up from her sewing machine, her green eyes eager for once. He was happy to see that look in them. Lately she’d been so far away.

“Will there be piano again?” she asked, her tone strangely breathless.

He shrugged. “I think so. You mean like at that other party?”

He’d taken her to a holiday party last year, and she’d been transfixed by the Christmas tunes some local musician had tapped out on the piano.

“Yes.”

“Pretty sure there will be piano.”

“I’ll go,” she said, and she seemed happy.

That was a relief.

At least she wasn’t giving him a hard time about money. She used to do that a lot. Too much. Always nagging him about their finances. She wanted him to make more, wanted to have more. But that had slowed lately, and he was glad of it.

Glad, too, that something so simple would make her smile. They hadn’t had the easiest time all these years, but maybe, just maybe, things were changing.





CHAPTER NINE