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My heart melts. “What? Really?”
He swallows, pain evident, and shifts in the booth, as if he’s uncomfortable sharing the personal details of his life with anyone. Picking up the fork, he brings the first bite to his lips and I watch with fiery desire as his mouth closes around the twines.
“You don’t go home on breaks?”
Another shake of his head. “No. I left after graduation for summer ball in the Cape Cod league. Then freshman year started.”
“And you haven’t been home since?”
“No, not really. Not to Lake Charles where I grew up. I go up to Washington. Sometimes. Not often though. Baseball takes up all my time. If I’m not playing in school, I play in the summer leagues.” He winks. “Nobody cooks like this for me though.”
Heart. Melted.
“I’m curious,” he begins, taking a drink of the beer I offer him. “How is it that you know so much about baseball?”
“My dad was the head coach at the University of Arizona.”
He searches my eyes. “Was?”
“He passed away seven years ago. Two days after my mom died of cancer.”
“Shit.” He hangs his head. “I’m sorry.”
I shrug one shoulder. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.” It sucks, but what are you going to say to that. Me too? I am sorry that he’s gone, and Tatum never got to meet her grandparents. But there’s also not much I can do about it.
It’s sometime after he’s had two helpings of the casserole, sang with Tatum, and danced with her to “Let it Go” that I think I want to keep him. Forever. I don’t want to give him over to baseball or college or wherever else he needs to be aside from this little spot in my heart giving me hope that not all men are fucking assholes.
After I put Tatum to bed, we’re standing in the kitchen, and I have the baby monitor in my hand. “You really lock her in the room?”
“You have to or she’ll get out and turn onFrozen.”
Cason chuckles, twirling his key around in his hand. “What’s with her and the snowman?”
“I don’t know. She wasn’t this obsessed until Collin died. Now she keeps watching it over and over again.”
He steps closer, the energy between us changing. Backing me up against the counter, he closes the distance between us. “That’s not that weird. Distractions can be good.”
Oh, I see what he did there. Clever. “I suppose so.” I gasp at his touch on my hips, searching his eyes.
“Did you think about my proposition?”
I nod.
“And?”
He looks hopeful, and I find it endearing. “Just sex?” I trace my fingers over the spot where his T-shirt dips in the middle to reveal the tendons in his neck. “Nothing else?”
There’s some hesitation on his part, more than I would have thought before his mouth dips to mine. “Just sex,” he pants, barely able to get the words out through his harsh breathing and capturing my lips with his.
That’s all it takes for us to find our way to my bed.
This guy, the one hovering above me between the sheets, the one talking dirty and making me come, over and over again, I think he’s exactly what I need. My talking snowman.
Let’s face it, if he hadn’t been here, I would have lost my shit a long time ago.