Page 11 of At First Smile

Tipping my head back, I take in his coaxing smile.

So much about Rowan leaves me topsy-turvy.

I just met him, but I trust him. He’s guarded, but still looks at me with an openness.

My body ignites for him, but my heart settles in his presence.

He’s strong, but there’s a vulnerability in the gruffness of his voice.

I turn my gaze forward. “Saturday mornings. We always went out for breakfast. Even when I was in college and lived at the dorms, she’d come get me to take me to breakfast at Bread, our favorite spot in downtown Seal Beach.

We’ve been going there since we moved to California for her to write for The Unseeing Private Eye . ”

Rowan’s chin rests atop my head.

“I still go to Bread every Saturday morning. I sit at our same table tucked in the back corner of the café’s small courtyard. I still order the same thing, including the giant baklava croissant we used to share. I can never finish it”—my voice cracks— “but I never take it home.”

That cardboard to-go box would only mock the knowledge that she’s gone. If she wasn’t, it wouldn’t sit on the kitchen island like a viper ready to strike, its fangs plunging in and dripping the poisonous truth that she’s gone and never coming back.

“Do you feel her… when you’re there?”

I swallow thickly. “I don’t feel her anywhere. I worry that she’s all the way gone. She left her house to me. I live there and still I don’t feel her. The memories are there, but she’s not.”

Tears burn in my eyes. I raise my hand and dash them away, hoping they’re not noticeable.

Openness isn’t a problem for me with most things.

Well, with unimportant things as JoJo would point out.

I can talk endlessly about my advocacy work, friends, favorite books, and career.

Being vulnerable, though, chafes at exposing myself.

The moisture coating my fingertips tells me I’m not as strong as I think.

That I need. That what…who I need is gone.

His arms fold tight around me, and he whispers, “I bought my childhood house because I thought it would bring my dad back. Like he’s somehow still there, but when I go back there’s only the memory of him…

not him. It took me a while to realize that he’s gone, but not all the way gone because I still have those memories.

” He takes my wrist, raising my hand to my heart.

“As long as you keep her here, she’s not gone.

Even if you don’t feel her, those memories keep her alive.

It’s only when we’ve forgotten that they’re truly gone. ”

I twist in his arms, facing him. His woodsy scent comforts me. As if just him soothes the torrent of sadness inside me.

“Thank you.” I place his hand on my heart. “I’ll not forget that.”

The air between us is charged. My nerves sizzle as if a storm is about to break.

“Pen—”

“You two shouldn’t be up there like that! It’s not safe. You could fall!” A brusque masculine voice breaks the moment, drawing our attention to a tall older man at the river’s edge.

As if to reiterate the meddling man’s point, I take a step back.

The back of my legs hit the stone wall. Rowan pulls me back to him with such intensity that I slam into his chest. The momentum causes him to pitch backward, taking me with him.

His strong arms band around me, holding me tight as we fall to the bridge’s wood plank floor.

“Christ!” he grunts, hitting the ground.

My body drapes over him like a rally monkey at a baseball game. Rowan cups the back of my head, while my face burrows into his chest. His other hand rests at the small of my back. The thud of his heart roars in my ears. My legs are splayed on either side of his massive frame.

“So sorry! Are you okay?” I cringe, tipping my face to him.

“Yeah,” he groans.

“I’m so sorry. That was stupid of me, I shouldn’t have…”

“Pen, none of that… All that matters is that you’re okay.” Rowan’s words are steady with assurance and concern. The hand cupping my head moves to my cheek and brushes away tendrils that had escaped from my long braids. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m not the one that cushioned my fall.”

“I’ll be your cushion any time. I’m pretty sturdy.”

The breath wooshes out of me. My chest heaves against his body, taking in his sweet promise. It both terrifies and allures me at the same time.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His hands skate over my face, down my sides, along my back, at my hips, and graze the swell of my ass. “Shit! Sorry.” He throws his hands into the air.

“Rowan, none of that. All that matters is my ass is okay.” I smile playfully.

A soft laugh relaxes him.

I sit up, peering down at him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I cradle his cheek and his beard’s silken strands tickle my palm. I wonder if the hair on his head is as soft. What would it be like to weave my fingers into his neat tresses and muss them up?

“Strangely I’ve never been better.” His hands rest on my hips.

That static electricity between us crackles, as I realize that not only am I still straddling Rowan but my heated core rests against his… And he’s hard and large…very large.

I should get up, but I don’t move. Neither does he.

He doesn’t push me off. He doesn’t wiggle from beneath me.

There’s no apologetic or bashful smile. Those strong hands only hold me in place.

I can’t see his eyes, but I can feel their smoldering stare.

It’s almost like a dare. The gauntlet has been thrown.

Who will make the first move and what move will that be?

Why am I waiting for him to act? Rowan may be a man who commands, but he’s also guarded. Why wouldn’t he be most guarded about his heart? I know what move I want made and who should do it.

Darting my tongue against my lips, I cradle his face. Both to anchor me to him and to test. Like dipping my toes into the stream to assure the waters will welcome me. He melts into my touch. I bend towards him and…

Stomping feet burst our cocoon. Red faced, hands on hips, the older man appears over our heads. “This is inappropriate. You’re in a public place!” the man tuts.

Vagina blocker! I groan and pull away from Rowan.

“We should go,” Rowan sighs.