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Heat pulses through my entire body as I bring my lips to Cason’s forearm. Up until now, he hasn’t said much. He’s simply listened to me. I’ve never had a man, aside from my dad, be there for me without intention. And tonight, Cason is added to the roster. He never makes an attempt to do anything more than listen to me.
This guy, the one holding me as though there’s nowhere else he’d rather be, he’s eaten away at me. Nibble here, nibble there, and you know what? I let him because his bite was irresistible. “This looks bad,” I whisper against his forearm draped over my chest, holding me tight. “Here, my husband died two months ago, and now I have this college kid living with me and I’m fucking him.”
Light laughter shakes his chest, his hand rising from the water to rub the soapy sponge he has across the tops of my breasts. “Geez, when you put it like that, it totally sounds like you’re taking advantage of me.”
I laugh out loud, and it feels good.
He pours me another glass of wine and hands it to me. “Here. This will make you feel better.”
Turning my head, I eye him carefully, smiling. “Are you trying to get me drunk so I’ll have sex with you?”
He winks, kissing my nose. “Maybe.”
The weight surfaces again, despite the easiness between us. “I don’t feel like having sex after today.”
“Then you haven’t drank enough. Have more.”
Sighing, I shake my head. “What are you doing?”
His mouth moves to my ear, his words whispered in a low growl. “I’m trying to make you forget about him.”
“You did that when you bought me coffee that morning.”
My stomach does a flip as I think about moving forward. I turn to face him, watching the way the candlelight flickers against his face. He looks so beautiful, and I can’t imagine what I look like to him.
Bringing my legs up near my chest, I sit between his legs in front of him. “I feel like such a fucking mess.”
His shoulders stiffen, and he lifts my chin and catches my stare. His gaze sharpens, his jaw stiff. “You’re not though. You’re an amazing mom and artist. Never underestimate your appeal, and what simply being a mother to Tatum gives her.”
I hate the hurt in his eyes, and I want to smack his own mother. I don’t know much about her, as he’s stingy with the details, but I know she wasn’t good to him. I lift the wine to my lips, and his hand falls to the side of the tub. “I think someone made you in a factory and sent you to me.”
He leans closer, his breath hitting my face. “Or maybe they sent both of you to me.”
His lips find my knees, the corners of his eyes creasing as a smile forms. “Is now a good time to tell you I hate the smell of lilacs?”
A smile tugs at my lips. “You really are a monster.”
His eyes flick to mine. “Monsters don’t set up Christmas trees in April and get a kid a kitten.”
“You’re right.” I shake my head and think about the Christmas tree in the house. “How did this night go down?” I shift in the tub so I can see his face clearer. “Where did you even find the Christmas tree?”
“It was in your attic.” He wraps his arms around me, his hand disappearing into my hair. “Tatum showed me. Also, she peed in a shoebox in the attic. And the kitten, well, he sorta showed up at the door.”
I run my fingers down his back, feeling the smooth, taut skin. “He did not.”
His eyes find mine, suddenly serious. “Yeah, he did.”
“Our door?”
“No, my car. I took her for ice cream, and she kept going on about a talking snowman, and the kitten was there when I opened the door.” At first I think he’s serious, and then he bursts out laughing. “I’m kidding. We got him from the shelter.”
“I’m sure she’s going to love him.”
“Do you not want him?” he asks against my lips, and by the trepidation in his eyes, I wonder if he’s talking about himself and not the snow-white kitten meowing at my bathroom door.
Pulling back, he tucks my hair behind my ear and waits for my answer.
“I think he’s perfect for us,” I say, unable to stop smiling for once tonight. “And what do you mean she peed in a shoebox?”