by Ellie Wade
“Cookies.”
“Cookies?” I look at Amos and Love with a confused expression. “But you don’t bake.”
She shrugs. “I know that, but I saw this cookie recipe in one of those magazines you brought me…the Oprah one, or maybe that Southern one. Anyway, the picture made the cookies look so delicious, and I’ve been wanting to make them with Love ever since.”
“Well, okay. That’s fantastic, Mom.” I turn my attention to Love. “What makes you happy today, Lovie?”
She scrunches up her nose and holds up the pink piglet napkin holder that she chose for herself and giggles under her breath.
“Oh.” I splay my hand across my chest. “Perfect. That would make me happy, too. What’s your favorite part?”
“His nose,” she answers in her sweet little voice.
“Oh, I love pig noses, too.” I look at Amos. “And you?”
“This right here. Having dinner with my favorite girls is the highlight of a pretty awesome day. What about you?”
“I’m grateful for you.” I smile toward Amos. “For making an incredible dinner for us, and to Gigi, for taking such good care of my Love Dove while I work so I can help other kids that need me, and I’m thankful for Love and the best hugs in the world.” I smile toward my daughter, and she returns it with one of her own.
“She really is the best hugger.” Lee-Ann smiles toward her grandbaby, and Amos and I nod in agreement.
An hour after we’ve finished eating, I take Love upstairs for her bedtime routine while Amos cleans the kitchen, and Lee-Anne sneaks in another episode of who she started calling “her Ethan” over dinner.
Bath time, stories, and bedroom snuggles eventually culminate with a sleeping three-year-old, and I head downstairs.
Lee-Anne stands and flips off the TV with an exasperated, “Man, that was intense.”
“Did your guy survive tribal council?” I ask.
“Yes, he did,” she says relieved. “Alright, mi amorcito, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She kisses my cheek before heading out.
“Night, Mom.”
Amos enters the living room with two glasses of wine. I take one and have a sip. “Thanks.”
Setting the glass on the end table, I fall into the sofa, and Amos follows suit, plopping beside me. He takes my hand in his and threads our fingers together. His thumb runs back and forth along the top of my hand.
“Today was good,” he states.
“It really was.”
“So, date number two is in the books.” His intense brown stare captures mine.
My eyes dart to his lips and back to his eyes. “It didn’t even feel like a date. It just felt…normal and good.”
“Did you expect different?” His mouth tilts into a grin.
“I don’t know.” I press my lips together. “I guess, I thought it might be weird in some way, or at least I was worried that it might be.”
“Nothing’s changed, Alma. It’s us.”
I smirk and quirk a brow. “Well, a little has changed.” When Amos doesn’t respond, I continue. “I see these”—I brush the thumb of my free hand over his lips—“a little differently now.”
He kisses the pad of my thumb before giving it a nibble. “Yeah, maybe a little has changed.”
He cups my chin and leads my mouth to his as we lean toward each other. I groan at the contact, the intense desire to kiss him all day escaping in a verbal release. The sound fuels Amos’s movements, and he deepens the kiss. I pull my hand from his and press my palms against his shoulders, pushing his back against the couch cushions. I swing my leg over his lap and straddle him, our lips never separating.
Circling my arms around his neck, I push my body as close to his as it will go, and we kiss, and kiss, and kiss.
And it’s perfect.
At this moment, I pray the clouds will stay far away. But I’ll have to come up for air eventually, and when I do, I can only hope it doesn’t rain.
17
Amos
Opening the door to Alma’s office, I find her in conversation with Brooke, our outreach counselor. She’s standing, bent over the table, pointing toward some papers. They’re discussing some of the children we serve and their needs.
Every time I lay eyes on Alma, I’m captivated by her.
Her beauty. Her heart. Her drive.
She’s amazing.
The formfitting skirt she’s wearing clings to her curves, and the sight of it makes me all sorts of heated. I can’t deny that I’ve had my share of daydreams in which I remove her attire and take her on the office table. I would never act on these desires for multiple reasons, but one can dream.
This empire of good that she and Leo built years ago is awe-inspiring, and the way she’s run the charity since his passing is incredible. She’s fucking incredible.
I can’t help but feel that I’m not meant to be here. It’s nothing that Alma or anyone has done. The whole staff is exceptional and welcoming. It’s simply that Leo exists everywhere within these walls. This entire place was their dream, and I’m late to the party—his party. Lion’s Lair will always belong to Leo, and I’ll forever be second place to him. I can’t compete. No one stands a chance against a beloved legacy. And I have to be okay with that because there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
Our days here are often busy, and we don’t exactly get a lot of one-on-one time but just knowing that Alma is under the same roof as me makes me happy. Being close to her is what I want. What I need. I’m not a weak man. Growing up with my father ensured that fact. I’m strong enough to come to work every day with a hint of vulnerability surrounding me if it means a life with Alma.
Second place is better than no place at all.
Alma looks up from the table, noticing me in the doorway for the first time. A smile spreads across her face. She wraps up the conversation with Brooke.
Brooke collects the papers on the table and taps them into a stack before sliding them into a folder and excusing herself from the room.
“Hi,” Alma says, closing the gap between us.
I push the door closed behind me. “Hi, beautiful.”
She drapes her arms around my shoulders. Leaning down our lips meet in a gentle kiss. I breathe her in, wanting so much more than a peck on the lips.
“I wanted to talk to you about this weekend,” I say.
“Yes?” She lifts a brow.
“Let’s get away for a couple of nights. Just you and me. I’ve already spoken to your mother, and she can stay at the house with Love. We’ll be gone Friday night and Saturday but can come home early Sunday so you won’t miss Love for the whole weekend.”
The joy on her face from seeing me just seconds ago falls. Her features tighten with visible panic.
“It’s just two nights. One full day. I think it will be good for us.” I take her hands in mine and run my thumbs across her skin in a soothing rhythm.
She shakes her head and presses her lips in a line. “I don’t know, Amos. I’ve never spent a night without Love in her entire life. I don’t know…” She chews on the inside of her cheek.
Her response isn’t surprising. In fact, it’s what I expected. I know leaving Love will be hard for her.
We’ve been officially dating for over a month now, and truth be told, not much has changed in our routine, save for some awesome make-out sessions. We do the same things we’ve done since she lost Leo. I spend my evenings with Alma, Love, and Lee-Anne. There are princess movies and toddler games. Meals, and laughter, and snuggles. Excursions to the beach, or the zoo, or the library. It’s all perfectly wonderful as it’s been for the past four years. At night, when Love sleeps, and Lee-Anne returns to her condo, Alma and I sit on the sofa and talk, watch TV shows, and kiss.
Every day is some version of the one before.
I simply feel that we need to take this relationship to the next level if we’re ever truly to know whether it will work. Alma has only been with one man, and my heart has to find out if she’s capable of l
oving two. For each day I spend with her, I fall deeper in love. The uncertainty of our future is a constant dagger to my chest, a never-ending worry. Will she love me? Can she?
I’m going to love Alma until the day I die. There’s no question about that. The hesitation comes in when I start to wonder, in what way? How is she going to allow me to love her?
A night or two away is what we need. We would benefit from a day when it’s just us, in a neutral location, where we figure out what our future looks like. It’s impossible to delve deeper into our relationship when we’re forever surrounded by his memory.
I knew when I initiated this that it would require patience and understanding. I’m not here to judge Alma or the way in which she moves on. But I truly feel that getting away would help her.
It would help us.
Yet it’s not my decision to make.
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I think we need it. We need time for us, away from our lives here to figure things out,” I say, my voice gentle.
“I thought things were going well between us?” Alma asks softly, her eyes cast downward.
“They are. God, they are.” I squeeze her hands. “The past month has been wonderful, some of the happiest moments in my life. But I think it’s time to explore what more looks like for us. You know? I want more with you, Alma. But I want to do it right. I think a night away from our usual routine would be great.”
Alma closes her eyes and pulls in a steadying breath. “I can’t leave Love.” She opens her eyes and holds me in her conflicted stare. “I can’t be apart from her. I know it’s silly, and parents spend nights without their kids all the time, but I can’t. The thought of not holding her while she falls asleep makes me ill. Panic runs through my veins simply thinking about leaving her for that long. I know that someday I’ll have to be ready. It’s just not now. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I circle my arms around her, pulling her into a hug. “I completely understand.”
“I love you.” She says the three little words that we’ve said to each other thousands of times in our life, yet this time, they sound like a consolation prize to a heart that I’ll never own.
“I love you.” I kiss the top of her forehead.
“My house for dinner?” she asks.
“Of course.”
“I’ll get there, Amos. I will.” She steps back with a shy smile.
“I have no worries.” I lie.
She glances at the clock on the wall. “I’m due in tutoring, but I’ll see you tonight?”
I nod. “Absolutely. I’m meeting Shady on the courts in a few.”
“Oh my gosh. Tell him I said hi. I’ll try to sneak down to see him before you’re done. I haven’t seen him in a while.”
“I will.”
She gifts me with a grin and a quick kiss, and she leaves the office.
I grab my gym bag from my office and change into my shorts and a T-shirt. When I’m finished lacing up my tennis shoes, I head down to the gym. A good game of basketball actually sounds great right about now.
Shady, legal name William Smith, is already on the courts shooting hoops. I’m not sure where Shady’s nickname came from, but the first time I met him, he asked me to call him such, so I do.
“Hey, Shade,” I greet him.
“Big A! What’s up, man?” He slaps my hand with his and leans in for a shoulder bump. Admittedly, I’m not a huge fan of the nickname that he has for me, but I don’t have the heart to have him call me anything else. His face lights up when he calls me by the name. So for the shade-man, I’ll be Big A.
He tosses the basketball to me. “Ready to get your butt kicked?”
“I’ll have you know that I’ve been practicing since last week, and I think I’m going to win this one,” I respond.
Shady laughs. “Not a chance.”
Playing one-on-one is a great exercise, and the truth is, I need the workout and the endorphins it brings. Alma’s rejection stung. I had hoped she’d…try. That’s not fair because she is trying. I’m just so close to having her and very afraid she’s going to slip away.
I said I was good with any future, as long as she’s in it—in one way or another. But I know now that’s not true. I don’t want a future when she isn’t mine, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. It’s all up to her. All my cards are in. I’m in—completely.
I just pray she’ll jump in with me.
18
Alma
I light the last candle and look around the room. The entire main level of my house is glowing with flickering candlelight. It’s beautiful.
There’s soft, melodic music playing on the speakers, adding to the romantic vibe.
Earlier in the week, when Amos asked me to go away with him, I wanted to, desperately. It’s true that we need to switch things up from the norm. I’ve been keeping our relationship in the shallow end, afraid to take it deeper. The truth is, I’m terrified, and maybe it’s silly, but it’s the reality of it.
This past month has been incredible, and I feel happier and more whole than I have in a long time, but I’m still scared. I want to love another and let Leo go. I know that’s the healthiest course of action. But I’m also terrified to let him go because I still love him so much.
I can’t live in the past, and I can’t bring Leo back. For myself and my daughter, it’s important to move on and create a future for the two of us, one filled with immense joy and one that’s based in reality and not a desperate longing for the impossible.
It’s time, and I’m ready.
Retrieving the bottle of wine from the kitchen, I set it on the coffee table in front of the couch, next to my best attempt at a charcuterie board with meats, cheeses, crackers, and fruit.
The stage is set.
I asked Amos to come later tonight. I spent the evening with Love after a long week of work. Her sweetness filled my soul, and I needed it—that reset button.
There’s a light knock on the front door, and I can’t help but smile. Amos never knocks, has never had to. He’s always been welcome within these walls. That simple act alone tells me that he’s nervous, and I hate that I’ve made him feel that way. I hope tonight proves to him just how much I love him and how ready I am to move forward with him.
I swing the door open with a grin. “Knocking?”
He shrugs, the corner of his mouth tilting up. “It just felt right.”
“Well, it’s wrong.” I link our pinky fingers and pull him through the threshold. “Don’t knock. Never knock.”
He chuckles softly. “Well, okay then.”
I throw my arms around his neck and raise my lips to his. The moment our mouths meet, a delicious vibration courses through me, and I’m finally ready to feed my insatiable hunger. My body is on alert, the signs of want pounding across my pebbled skin with each heartbeat. I need him.
Amos pulls away, breaking our connection, and I gasp at the loss of contact. He leans his forehead against mine, his breaths heavy. “If that’s the welcome I get by knocking, I’ll always knock.” His voice is deep and husky, and his breath ragged.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper as I pepper kisses over the skin of his neck. “I’m sorry I said no to this weekend.”
“Hey,” he says, concerned. Grasping my shoulders, he pushes me a step away so he can look into my eyes. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You weren’t ready. It’s okay. I told you from the beginning that I’m here for you, and we’ll take this at your pace.”
I take his face in my hands. “I am ready, though.” My thumbs pull his bottom lip down, and he hisses at the contact, his eyes rolling back.
“Alma,” he says, looking around the candlelit space. “This is all incredible, and you are amazing. I love you so much. You know that. I will wait an eternity for you. I’m sorry I tried to rush you…I wasn’t thinking clearly. Everything you’ve given me in the past month has been more than enough.”
I reach for the button to his jeans, and I unclasp it. “I sai
d I’m ready.” My voice strains with need as I pull his pants and boxers down his muscular legs. He springs free, and my mouth falls slack, the vessel within my chest pounding rapidly at the sight.
I drop to my knees and grab him at the base, pulling his impressive length into my mouth. Amos hisses under his breath, a few choice expletives fall from his lips as his fingers slide through my hair. His skin is soft, and I moan around him as I take him as deep as I can. My tongue circles the tip.
“Alma.” Amos moans, his hips pick up pace as he pushes harder into my mouth. “Fuuuck.” The deep timbre is pained as the two of us get lost in the carnal need of the moment.
I can’t think straight. I’m fueled by the all-encompassing desire to push Amos toward the brink until he collapses in ecstasy. I need his release more than I need my own. The wetness between my legs soaks my panties, and my body hums with pleasure.
“Wait.” He gasps, pushing me away. “Not yet.”
In a blur of frenzied movements, he kicks off his pants and removes his shirt until he’s standing naked before me. My mouth falls slack at the site. He’s a vision of perfection. His body is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. He makes quick work of removing my clothes.
We stand before each other bare and vulnerable, and needy. He traces the skin of my neck, down over my collarbone, until he’s cupping my breasts.
“I’m in awe of you,” he chokes out. “Utterly stunning.”
His hands continue their descent, tracing lines over my ribs and across my stomach. He continues downward until his fingers move against the bundle of nerves between my legs.
I whimper at the touch and claw at his arms to steady myself. He continues rubbing, walking us back toward the sofa, his mouth kissing mine. I feel the fabric of the couch against the back of my knees and fall onto the cushions. Amos’s fingers enter me, and I moan into his mouth. My legs begin to shudder with his presence. His fingers enter me and then pull out to rub my clit and enter me again in an intoxicating rhythm.
His lips leave mine, and he whispers against my mouth. “I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life to taste you.”