by Gina Azzi
She runs her tongue across her bottom lip. For a moment, I wonder if she’s holding her breath. “James.”
“Did you have fun tonight?”
She nods. “I liked watching you play,” she admits, leaning the tiniest bit into my touch.
But I feel it and hope flares in my chest. I latch onto that and turn toward her fully. “I liked having you there.”
Her hand comes up and wraps around my wrist. I’m not sure whether she means to remove my hand or anchor it but for a breath, we both sit still, neither daring to move a muscle.
“What are we doing?” she whispers.
“I want to kiss you, Bella,” I admit the truth. The truth that’s been poking at me for weeks. A truth I’ve tried to deny, tried to overlook, but I don’t want to anymore. Instead, I want to taste her lips, run my fingers along the lines of her face, and relive a bit of our night together.
Her inhale is sharp but she doesn’t pull away and I take that as a good sign. Her eyes are blown, desire, need, and worry flaring in their depths. “If we do this…it could get messy.” Her eyes trail from my eyes to my lips.
She’s right. We’re about to play with fire. How could we not get burned? But—
“Messy is nothing compared to what we’ve been through,” I mutter back, closing the space between our mouths.
She watches me for a moment before her eyes flutter closed and she lifts her chin the tiniest bit to meet my kiss. Awareness rushes through me as my mouth hovers a millimeter away from hers. This isn’t a drunken night filled with painful memories. This is a step forward, together. My skin tingles and my heart hammers. Am I ready for this? So slow it’s almost painful, my lips meet hers. I kiss her slowly. Sweetly. Once. Twice, her bottom lip. Three times.
And then, the sweet morphs into a heat that consumes me.
My hands hold the sides of her face. Her arms snake around my neck and back, pulling me closer. She shifts into my frame until our limbs twist together. I tilt my head and angle hers, deepening our connection, as our mouths meet in an explosion of fireworks.
My eardrums ring and a flush of heat, of desire so potent my hands shake, rushes through me. Wild, uninhibited, desperately, like I’ll never get enough.
I want Bella Andrews with a ferocity I’ve never experienced. Not just her body. Not just tonight. But all of her. Even the broken parts she tries to hide.
It feels like the past two months have been one long stretch of foreplay, culminating in this grand finale. Our coming together.
Our tongues duel. Bella moves up on her knees, swinging a leg over my lap and straddling me. I groan as she lowers herself, grinding against my rock-hard length. My hands drop to her waist, squeezing and kneading her skin.
She moans, pressing her breasts into my chest as I kiss her long and hard.
“Daddy!” Milly shrieks.
We both break apart, panting. Bella’s eyes are hazy, clouded over with a sheen of lust. I’m sure mine look the same.
“Bella!” Milly hollers again.
“Shit,” I mutter, knowing from her voice that she’s had a nightmare. “I’m right here, Milly,” I holler, gently placing Bella next to me on the couch. Uncertainty flares in her eyes and I shake my head. “I’ll be right back, Bella. But don’t do that.”
“Do what?” She frowns.
“Second-guess this. It’s for real,” I tell her before jogging up the stairs to calm Milly.
After I settle my daughter, I return to an empty living room. For a second, a swell of disbelief, followed by anger, rushes through me. Did she try to ghost me again, in my own home? But then I hear Bella humming in the kitchen.
I enter and relax when I see her pouring two mugs of tea.
She looks up and smiles. “It’s not exactly hot and heavy but…tea?”
I dip my head. “Please.” I sit at the kitchen island. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Bella Andrews.”
“Back at ya, James Ryan.” She places a mug in front of me.
I take a sip, wincing when it burns my tongue.
“James?”
“Hm?” I look up.
“What do we do now?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you kissed me…”
“I plan to do it again,” I tell her the truth.
Amusement laced with excitement flares across her face. She dips her head for a moment, biting her bottom lip, and I can tell she’s trying to school her expression. Her sweetness makes me smile. I move my mug over, waiting for her to say something.
“That right?” she says finally and I laugh.
“Bella, we’re doing it all backwards. We slept together, live together, and now had our first real kiss.”
She laughs with me. “True. But, if I’m being honest, doing things in the right order didn’t exactly work out for me.” She smiles but it fades and she looks down, toying with the handle of her mug. She raises her head, her voice hesitant. “What do you think this is?”
I look at her for a long beat, noting the way her hands fidget, the way she can’t meet my eyes. She’s scared of taking this next step and I don’t blame her, I’m scared too. Still, excitement thrums through my veins and for a moment, I embrace the recklessness that courses through me. Maybe I don’t want to know what comes next. Maybe I like the anticipation, the adventure, of not knowing. “Real,” I say finally. “Whatever happens or doesn’t, this is real, Bella.”
She grins at my answer. Reaching over, she laces our fingers together and squeezes. “For me too, James.”
“Good.” I smile back before a thought zips through my mind. In the past, I wouldn’t voice it but now, I’m too old, experienced too much, to not be upfront. “But please don’t ever ghost me again, Bella. If you’re unsure of something or worried, just… talk to me.” I try to keep my voice light but I know from her expression that she hears the truth, the need for honesty, in my tone.
She leans forward and brushes a kiss over my lips. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
10
Bella
For an independent woman in my thirties, with a career caring for children, I shouldn’t be sneaking around with the boss. But I so am. And it is so hot.
I fancy myself a heroine in a historical romance as things with James heat up from sweet flirtation and witty banter to stolen glances, desperate touches, and kisses that make my heart race.
Since both James and I are hesitant to confide our budding relationship status to the twins, finding time to be together proves difficult. But after a week of James traveling for hockey, of sneaking kisses that turn steamy real fast, I’m desperate for some extra alone time with my guy.
Luckily, Maia offers to take the twins for a sleepover on Friday night.
“I’m dropping them off,” he tells me, wagging his eyebrows.
“Now?” I check my watch. “It’s only 4 p.m.”
“Hey, Maia said to drop them whenever.” He holds up a hand and I snort.
“I’m sure she didn’t mean directly from school.”
He shrugs and bellows up the stairs for the twins to change out of their school clothes and pack a bag for a slumber party at their favorite aunt’s house. Their elated shrieks makes me feel a little less guilty that James and I are desperate to shlep them off and have some alone time.
“We’re really going out?” I ask, making sure James isn’t having cold feet about being seen out together. In public. Where anyone can snap a photo and the social media trolls can pick apart that he’s dating his nanny. Or worse, that he didn’t wait enough time before falling into a relationship.
Sigh. Thinking of all the ways our new thing could be misconstrued—and ruined before it even has a chance to blossom—fills me with unease. I’m about to suggest that we just stay in and order takeout when James wraps his arm around my waist and tugs me flush against him. His hand rests above the swell of my ass as he looks down, studying me.
“We’re going out, Bella. I’m going to take the kids
so you can do…whatever it is girls do to get ready—”
I chuckle.
“And have time to yourself before a date. A real date with a sexy hockey player who’s pretty taken with this badass chick—”
“Chick?”
He kisses the tip of my nose and smacks my ass. “Go take a shower. I’ll pick you up at 6 p.m.”
I tilt my head back and laugh, loving the way his eyes lighten at the sound.
“I’ll be ready,” I promise.
He nods, his gaze growing serious. “See you in a bit, babe.”
“Get out of here.” I shoo him toward the front door as the twins race down the stairs.
“‘Bye, Bells!” Mason zooms past me. Milly smiles and waves over her shoulder.
“See you guys tomorrow,” I call after them as they bolt through the front door and out to the car.
“Two hours.” James points at me.
I blow him a playful kiss and he leaves.
Once the car pulls out of the driveway, I squeal. I haven’t had a real date in years. Too many of them to count. Excitement rushes through me as I take the stairs and dial Selina.
“Hello?” she answers.
“I’m going on a date.”
“Oh my God. Seriously?” she screeches.
“Yes!”
“With your boss?”
“Don’t say it like that.”
“But it is like that,” she retorts. “Well, maybe not, since you boned him—”
“Ew.”
“Before you worked for him. Okay, I’m on board.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“What are you wearing?” She changes topics to the more important matter at hand.
“That’s why I’m calling you, Lina. I haven’t done this in years.”
“Gotten dressed?”
“Gone out,” I clarify.
I can hear her smile through the line. “I got you, Bells. I was just messing with you. I’m happy you’re going out with James.”
“Thanks.”
“You deserve this. It’s been too damn long since you’ve gotten any.”
I groan, lifting my hand to my forehead. Why the hell did I call Selina? Because she gives better fashion advice than Colton. Barely.
“I was starting to worry that your vagina had shriveled up and died,” she continues. “That’s sad for a thirty-two-year-old. You need tonight. You need hot dad dick.”
I cough, holding the phone away from my ear and squinting at it as if that will help clarify why Lina has no filter. Still, she’s my oldest friend and I love her for always having my back.
“Okay.” I clear my throat. “An outfit?”
“Right.” She switches gears, her voice growing serious. “Wear that black long-sleeve dress with the cutout in the back.”
“I haven’t worn that in ages! It barely covers my ass.”
“All the more reason to wear it. I know you have black tights on hand. Pair that with
your camel cashmere coat, the one with the thick sash. Oh, and definitely gold jewelry.”
I mentally breathe a sigh of relief that I have all the things. “Got it. Okay, thanks.”
“Where’s he taking you?”
“I don’t know. Out to dinner somewhere.”
Selina whistles. “This is pretty serious, Bells. For him to take you out in the city, where anyone can take a pic and blow up what you’ve guys got going on…that’s big.”
“Right?” I agree, voicing my concern aloud. “Do you think it’s too soon?”
“No way,” she answers immediately. “There’s no rulebook for things like this.”
“But there’s a lot of judgement when—”
“People are always going to judge. And talk. And voice their opinions to anyone who will listen. But, be honest, whose opinions really matter to you?”
“My parents and Colton. You. James.”
“Okay. Do you think any of the above are going to have anything to say about you and the hockey hunk dating?”
“No.”
“Exactly. So what are you really worried about?” Selina asks.
“I just don’t want him to get slammed with a bunch of negative press. He’s still working through Layla’s death and things are so good between us right now. I guess I just don’t want to rock the boat.”
Selina’s quiet for a moment. “Boats are meant to be rocked.”
I roll my eyes.
“No, but seriously? It will never be a good time. No matter when you and James get together, someone will have something to say. That’s just the way it is. Do you think he’s having the same concerns?”
I think about the past week and all the ways James showed up for me. “No.”
“Then don’t worry about it, Bells. You deserve this. You’ve been through a lot and you finally have a good guy, no, a great guy, who understands all the grief and loss you’ve experienced. More than that, he respects the hell out of you for it. Are you really willing to pull back on that because strangers are gonna gossip?”
“No,” I say decisively. The thought of not exploring what’s between James and me is a hell of a lot more stressful than the idea of being gossip fodder for a week or two. “You sound like Dr. C,” I add, recalling how he brought up similar questions during yesterday’s session.
She cheers at this. “I’m going to start charging you.”
I laugh.
“I’m happy for you, Bells! Now go shower and get dressed. You’ve got a hot date with a hockey heartthrob.”
This time, I smile for real. “Okay. Thanks, Lina.”
“Anytime, babe. Call me tomorrow and tell me all about it. Especially the sex and—”
“Good night, Selina.”
She chuckles. “Night, Bells.”
After I hang up, I take a quick shower. When I realize the time, I race through drying my hair, keeping it casual enough to let the natural wave come through. Then, I apply my makeup, sticking to nudes and peaches for a natural, dewy look that makes me look great but doesn’t scream trying-too-hard. I’m just zipping up my boots when the doorbell rings.
I grin, already liking the start of our date. I grab my purse and head downstairs, taking a deep breath before pulling the front door open.
My ability to breathe fails me. Too dramatic? Probably.
But for a woman who hasn’t had a man look at her like she’s everything he’s ever wanted in more than three years, the intensity in James’s eyes hits me like a lightning bolt.
I’m not sure where he changed but the man who left an hour ago rocking sweats and a hoodie is gone. In his place is a sexy, smoldering man in dark wash jeans, a black trench coat, with a hint of his white collared shirt peeking through. A slight stubble coats his jawline and his eyes flicker with heat, all amber and honey.
I’m so taken aback by his appearance—the sexy and the smolder—and the fact that he rang his own doorbell to notice the flowers in his hand until he holds them out. My chest feels melty at the thought he’s put into this evening.
“Thank you.” I grin, taking the flowers and inhaling. “These are beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful, Bella,” he says solemnly. It’s not a line. It’s not cheesy. It’s his truth and I bask in it, feeling prettier than I have in a long time.
I step back and make room for him to enter. “You didn’t have to ring the bell.”
“Of course I did. It’s our first date.”
I smile, biting my lip. “Let me put these in water,” I say, raising the bouquet of flowers.
James follows me into his kitchen, not the least bit surprised that I know where the vase is. I fill it, drop in the flowers, and place it in the center of the dining table. He watches me the entire time, his eyes drinking me in like his favorite whiskey. With appreciation, with gratitude, with need.
“You ready for dinner?” he asks, holding out his hand.
“Early bird special,” I joke, glancing at the clock.
He chuckles. “Got a whole n
ight planned.”
I soften toward him, truly touched by his thoughtfulness. I take his hand and thread our fingers together. “Dinner sounds perfect.”
“Good.” He leads me toward the door.
“Where are we headed?”
“Carter’s.”
“The steakhouse?” My eyes widen, my heart lurching.
He nods.
It’s definitely fancy for a first date. Carter’s is one of the best, most exclusive steakhouses in Boston. It’s actually where Jerry proposed to me and for a second, that image fills my mind.
“What? Don’t tell me you recently became a vegetarian?” James jokes, his voice light, his expression serious.
I shake my head, forcing a smile. “It’s not that.”
His hand drops away from the doorknob and he turns me, until my back is pressed against the door and he’s standing in front of me. His hands plant against the door on either side of my body and he dips forward, his words a whisper. “Then what it is, Bella?”
I swallow, my heart rate increasing, my body naturally moving toward James’s, to close the space between us. “It’s just, it’s where Jerry proposed,” I admit. “But I don’t want you to feel weird or uncomfortable about it,” I blurt out, internally cringing for being so open and ruining the nice dinner James planned.
Tenderness sweeps his expression even though his eyes harden for a beat. He clears his throat and shakes his head, the tip of his nose nearly grazing mine. “I can change the reservation no problem if you want to go somewhere else. I’m not trying to make this difficult for you.”
“You’re not,” I tell him truthfully. “You’re making it too good. Ruining all future first dates.” Shit. Stop talking, Isabella Andrews.
The corners of James’s mouth turn up. “How nervous are you?”
“Extremely nervous,” I rattle on.
“Why?” His one hand moves to my hip, sliding up to rest in the dip of my waist.
“Because I don’t want to ruin this with you. And I haven’t done this in a long time. And I’m not sure I know how to anymore.”
“You’re doing great, baby.” He drops his head, pressing a kiss to the side of my neck. It sends a blanket of goosebumps over my skin and I gasp. “Relax, Bella,” James murmurs. “Tell me more. Just keep talking.”