I feel like I’m floating. Like nothing can touch me in this moment.
When I step into the house, I hear the pop music coming from Libby’s room. I make my way down the hall and find her on the bed with her textbook, making notes in one of her workbooks.
“Hey, you,” I greet, entering the space.
Her room is filled with posters, teddy bears, and everything pink and black. It’s a strange combination, but it makes me think it’s a mixture of her mother and me. Sarah was definitely the girly girl. And I’m the bad boy who stole her from her parents.
“Hey, Dad, how was work?” she asks, watching me with a knowing stare. How did my fourteen-year-old turn into a woman overnight? She’s far more intuitive than I give her credit for.
“It was good. Why?”
She shrugs, then giggles when I lean in and whisper in her ear, “Tell me.”
“I just overheard Kayla telling one of the other teachers she was heading into the strip,” Libby says. “I thought maybe she came to visit you.”
“As a matter of fact, she did,” I tell my daughter. Sitting against her headboard, I watch her bounce toward me excitedly.
“And?” Libby looks like she’s about to burst. My teenage daughter wants to gossip with me about girls. Well, women. One in particular. “Come on, Dad,” she whines. “I like her, and I can see you like her too.”
I consider this for a moment. If I ever want Libby to be open with me about a boy, I’ll have to give her the same respect. Even though I’m not her friend, rather a parent, I still want to make sure she feels comfortable enough to talk to me about these things.
“I do like her,” I finally admit, which earns me an excited squeal.
“She’s one of my favorite teachers, and you look happier.”
“I do?” Libby’s words shock me. I never thought she would’ve noticed my broken heart. I didn’t think anyone saw how I was suffering. But my daughter is one observant child.
“Dad, I know when people die, it’s bad. Well, I mean it’s sad. I miss Mom every day, but you were her love,” Libby tells me. “That must be even worse. You knew her longer than I did.”
This makes me smile. A child’s logic. Yes, I knew her mother longer, but that doesn’t mean anything. I’ve known people my whole life and wouldn’t be this broken up, but I do understand what she means.
“I just don’t want you to think I could ever replace your mom.” I pull my daughter into my arms and close my eyes. She smells like cookies and candy. A smile cracks on my face when I think about my sweet girl, not the one in my arms. The one who’s now sporting a large tattoo, done by me.
“I don’t, Dad. I promise,” Libby tells me as she giggles at me holding her so tight I’m making it hard to breathe. In this moment, my heart doesn’t hurt too much. I allow myself to calm.
And I know I can finally take a step toward something that could be a future.
A happy one.
12
Caleb
“Are you nervous, Dad?” Libby’s voice comes from my doorway. I’ve changed my jacket twice. I don’t know why. When Kayla said she had an idea for our lunch date with the kids, I wasn’t sure what to wear.
She didn’t say it was formal or anything like that, but I want to impress her. And Nicholas. The boy lost a dad too soon, and even though I don’t know if I could ever step into that role, I want to be respectable. Even as the thought comes to me, I don’t know what the hell I’m thinking.
“A little bit,” I admit, turning to my daughter who’s dressed in a pair of blue denim shorts and a T-shirt with a boy band splashed across the front. “This is all new to me.”
“Well, I guess it’s new to her too,” my daughter tells me, sounding more grown up than I feel right now.
“How did you get so wise, young one?” I tease, pulling her in for a hug before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She’s almost at my height, and I know soon enough, we’ll be eye to eye.
“I learned from my dad.” She grins at me, and I can’t help but chuckle. At times, I would wonder if I was going to be a good father, especially when I lost Sarah, but Libby makes it easy. I’m lucky to have this beautiful young lady who’s growing up to be more level-headed than I was at her age.
“I’m proud of you,” I tell her, stepping away so I can look at my daughter. She’s getting far too big, and I’m not ready to see her graduate high school. Even though I have a few more years before that happens, time is precious, yet it moves so quickly.
“Dad, don’t get all emotional. We’re going to be late.” Libby smiles before leaving me to take one last look in the mirror. I feel like a damn teenager going on his first date, not a widower about to embark in a relationship with a woman who’s captured my attention.
It doesn’t take us long to reach Kayla’s house, and when I pull into the drive, I notice the door open, and Nicholas comes racing toward the truck.
“Hi!” he shouts excitedly, jumping up and down as he takes in the large wheels.
Exiting the vehicle, I crouch down so I’m eye-to-eye with the little man. “How are you doing?” I ask him, gripping his outstretched hand and shaking it.
“Good. Mom says you’re taking us out,” he tells me.
Just then, Kayla steps out onto the porch, and the moment my gaze lands on hers, my breath is knocked right the fuck out of my lungs. She’s stunning. Her hair is pinned back messily, strands hanging down framing her heart-shaped face.
She’s dressed in a pair of denim cutoffs that heat my blood in ways I shouldn’t be thinking about right now. Her top is flowy, slipping off one shoulder in an elegant yet relaxed way. Her feet are encased in a pair of tennis shoes, and she’s carrying a small purse where I note she puts the house key before making her way out to us.
“Hi,” she greets us with a smile.
“Hi, Miss Kayla.” Libby grins, and I note how my daughter has seemingly dressed quite similar to her teacher.
“You can call me Kayla.” They hug, and my heart warms slightly.
“Mommy looks pretty,” Nicholas says as I rise, and I have to agree with him.
I lean in to press my lips to Kayla’s cheek before telling her, “I think your son is right.” My words are soft, a whisper that makes her blush.
“Thanks.”
“So, where are we going?” I question her, taking her in once more before she steps back and lays her arm around Nicholas’s shoulders.
“I figured the beach, some burgers for lunch, and ice cream before we come home?” Her brow arches, and I nod.
“Sounds like a plan.” I wonder if she can hear my relief. Because I don’t know her that well, I wasn’t sure if she was going to say something else, something I may not have enjoyed, but the tension that gripped my shoulders moments ago is gone, and we all get into the car and head out toward the coast.
When we reach Kayla’s house after dropping off Libby at her best friend’s place, I walk Kayla to her door with Nicholas asleep in my arms. She unlocks it, allowing me to enter first, and silently leads me to his bedroom where I help her put him to bed.
The whole day was spent laughing in the sunshine, watching the kids splash in the ocean, and eating ice cream until we were ready to come home. The sun set an hour ago, and I follow Kayla into her living room.
“Sit. Did you want something to drink? I have wine, beer, or water,” she tells me with a smile, and I can tell she’s nervous from the slight tremble that travels over her.
“Beer, please,” I request, and she leaves me alone. I make my way to the small fireplace and find a framed photo of a man in uniform smiling at the camera holding a baby.
“That’s Jeremy,” Kayla says when she rejoins me. “He was deployed at twenty-three.” Her voice seems far away, as if she’s there.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s in the past,” she says, handing me the drink. “It’s something I’ll possibly never get over, losing someone, but . . . life goes on.”
“It doe
s,” I agree. “But I know the feeling, or at least, I understand where you’re coming from. It’s not easy. I doubt anything can ever make it easy, but . . .”
“Time heals all wounds?”
“Ha.” I chuckle at that. It sounds like something my parents would say. “Perhaps. But even though he’s someone you’ll always love—”
“I can’t stop my life,” Kayla finishes for me.
I swig the alcohol, the fizzy liquid going down easily as I turn toward her. It feels strange being in the house she shared with her husband. But then again, even if we were at my house, it would be the one I had with Sarah.
“I can go if you—”
“Will you take me upstairs?” Kayla questions with a whoosh. Her eyes lock on mine, shimmering and simmering. Desire and pain, all rolled into one.
“I’m not sure—”
“I am. Let’s take this to the bedroom,” she tells me, offering her small, delicate hand to me, and I find myself taking it. Even though I’m nervous and a little unsure, I want to experience her. I want her to forget, even if it’s just for one night.
I want to show her pleasure.
And then, if she wants me to leave in the morning, so be it.
13
Kayla
“Are you sure you want to take this to the bedroom?” Caleb questions as he holds onto my hand. I’m tugging him through my house, something I could never imagine myself doing. Ever. But here I am.
He’s been the perfect gentleman. Even though he’s inked from shoulders to wrists, there’s a piercing in his tongue, and I don’t even want to know where else he has any steel.
Something tells me tonight I’m about to find out. I’m taking a step in a direction I wasn’t sure I was ready for. But each time I’ve been with Caleb, he’s shown me more of the man beneath the inked exterior. He’s offered me a glimpse into the father and the broken-hearted husband who’s been left behind to pick up the pieces of a shattered family.
I want to be the glue. Deep down, I crave to fix him. I know it’s not possible to mend another person, but somehow, I’d like him to realize he’s a man. He needs to have some companionship in his life, even if it’s not romantic. But something tells me he’s made up his mind about me. About us.
Actually. Scrap that. I do want to know. Jesus, my mother was right. I need to get laid. That thought makes me cringe in far too many ways. But I shrug it off, and when we reach my bedroom, I stop, keeping Caleb on the threshold of the space I now have on my own.
I didn’t want to move. I focused on Nicholas for so long, now that I’m focused on me, I’m unsure what to do next. How do I proceed, knowing my husband is dead and I’m meant to move on?
“Darlin’, we don’t have to—”
“I have to,” I utter, spinning in Caleb’s arms to face him. He’s handsome, rugged, imperfect with his piercings and ink, his beard and messy hair. He’s so different, so vastly different from what I’m used to it’s as if I went out to find the complete opposite of Jeremy, and here he is, stealing my heart and bringing it back to life.
I tug him into the space. His spicy and masculine scent fills the room. His mouth steals mine, his tongue lashing my own in an act of dominance as he licks into my mouth and tastes the beers we just had.
His body is on mine, and as nervous as I am, like a damn teenager making out with her first boyfriend, I allow him to take control. My body is pliable. It’s his. For this moment in time, I’m not Kayla the mother, the teacher, or the daughter; I’m Kayla the woman who needs to be adored.
And Caleb adores me as he moves his lips over my heated skin. I’m burning up, and it’s only because I ache for more of his attention. When he moves up my body, the blouse I’m wearing goes with his movements, and I’m left in only my bra.
When he lowers himself, he’s tugging the cutoffs that hug my thighs all the way down until they’re a pile on the floor. I’m in my underwear, and his gaze burns the material from my most intimate areas. I may as well be naked to his heated stare.
He moves over me, and as much as I know I need to be present, this is the first time I’m going to be with a man other than Jeremy.
“Hey,” he coos in my ear. “I’m here. You’re here. If you want to stop, I’ll obey your wishes,” he tells me, pressing a kiss to my cheek. His body is heavy, warm and commanding, and I don’t want him to move, but I need a moment to breathe.
He doesn’t speak. He merely trails his knuckles over my neck, down and over my breasts. My nipples peak, the buds taut, wanting attention, but he doesn’t offer it. His hand moves lower, down to my hip, where he grips me in his rough hand. And then he holds me against him. His erection presses into my mound, causing the friction to offer me what I’m not ready to allow him to take.
“That’s . . .” I whimper, my words falling to silence when his hips roll, and suddenly, my clit is the point of contact where his cock is now prodding, and I need more. I want to push him away and pull him closer.
“We can stop.”
“No,” I assure him too quickly. He can tell I’m turned on. My hips have a mind of their own when they lift toward him, needing more, wanting that contact. Our bodies fit like puzzle pieces, just like mine and Jeremy’s used to, and I wonder in that moment if there’s more than one soul mate for everyone.
“You’ve brought me back to life, sweetheart,” he tells me with a gentle smile. There’s affection pouring out of him in waves, and I know soon I’ll have to decide where we go from here. I’m the one stalling us, and I don’t want to do that anymore.
“I don’t want to stop,” I tell him earnestly. My hands reach for him, cupping his face and holding it steady. “Bring me back to life.” My plea isn’t lost on him, and he moves slow but steady.
Caleb’s hands tug at my panties, pulling them down my legs as he looks up at me. The way his eyes shimmer only cause the butterflies that seem to be ever present when he’s around to awaken. They flutter to life, and somehow, this man has brought me back from the darkness.
He leans closer, peppering kisses up my thighs. His stubble tickles my skin as he moves north, up toward my stomach. He doesn’t touch my pussy, which is now wet and needy.
Once he’s nestled between my thighs, he reaches between us and circles my clit. The ministration of his fingers turns me molten, and his gaze only ignites the flames further.
“This is mine,” he pronounces. “From now till the moment you send me packin’, you’re mine.” A kiss to my lips seals his promise, and he pulls away to afford me a smirk. “And for now, we’ll take it slow. I want to show you I am a gentleman,” he affirms. “But tomorrow, I’m going to take you in every position known to man.”
“That’s quite a lot. Are you ready for that challenge, Mr. Mercer?” My teasing earns me a tickle on my ribs, which elicits a giggle I haven’t heard in years. He nudges my entrance, then stills. “I’m on the pill.” I don’t know why I utter those words, but I think it’s something we should’ve spoken about before this moment.
“Good, because there’s no way I’m stopping now.” With a naughty grin, he slides into me, slow, gentle, and loving.
Love.
Is that even possible when you’ve lost your first love?
Caleb Mercer is certainly making me believe it.
14
Caleb
Her body is taut at first, as if she’s afraid to let go. When I seat myself inside her, I have to focus on anything other than how tight she is. Her pussy hugs me as if it were made for me.
Kayla’s nails dig into my shoulders, and a soft whimper has my gaze locked on hers. “Am I hurting you?” I ask, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
When she shakes her head, I watch her swallow deeply before she opens her mouth. “I just . . . I need you to move, Caleb.” She moans as she lifts her hips to meet mine, causing pleasure to zing down my spine in electric waves. I pull out slowly, then sink back in, and this time, a groan is pulled directly from my soul when I feel her pulse around me.
>
“I can’t go slow, sweetheart,” I grit out through clenched teeth, and she nods. It’s all I need before I pull out and thrust back in. Again, and again. My body moves with hers, and when she rakes her nails down my back, I hiss out as my orgasm nears.
Reaching between us, I circle her clit while my mouth latches onto a hardened nipple, suckling the bud, allowing my teeth to graze it. Kayla’s sounds, her mewls and moans turn me into a goddamned animal as I fuck her into the mattress.
We move faster.
We’re rabid and hungry.
And when she cries out, I can’t stop my release from shooting down my shaft, filling her with abandon. She’s trembling beneath me, and her warmth coats my fingers and cock.
I slowly move my hips, and a small wince creases her face when I slip out, but when she looks at me, there’s only a glint of happiness in her beautiful eyes.
“I . . . Thank you,” she mumbles.
“Well, that’s new. Never been thanked afterward,” I tease, earning me a slap on the shoulder. “I should be the one thanking you,” I tell her. I notice how the black ink adorns her silky skin. Once it’s healed, it’s going to look beautiful.
Pulling her into my arms as I settle on the mattress, she nuzzles against me, fitting perfectly in the crook of my arm. I’ve always been afraid of letting someone in. I didn’t want another heartbreak or to watch someone I cared about walk out, but this . . . this is something else. Something so much more than I ever could’ve imagined.
“I never wanted this,” Kayla murmurs, causing my body to turn rigid. I expect her to tell me to leave now. That this was a mistake. Her gaze locks on mine, and a soft sigh falls from her lips. “I never thought I wanted this,” she reiterates. “But you’ve changed my mind somehow, and I don’t know how to thank you for bringing me back to life.”
I let out a whoosh of relieved breath, pulling her even tighter against me. “Don’t ever do that again.”
Then There Was You: A Single Parent Collection Page 35