He stood and took the dishes from her hands, placing them back on the table. “Leave those here. I’ll do them later. Come sit down and let me give you a foot massage.” He offered his left hand, not trusting himself if their flesh-and-blood fingers touched.
She didn’t resist, as he’d expected, but she also didn’t exhibit any enthusiasm. She allowed him to guide her to the couch as if she were resolved to some inevitable torment.
Once he had her stretched out on the couch, her head on a throw pillow, he sat on the opposite end and started in on her right foot. Rather than her customary sighs and moans of pleasure, she lay rigid and silent. Something had changed during their weeks apart… something intangible, but real. It was as if an invisible barrier had been erected between them.
He switched to the left foot, and this time he heard a small sigh, though it stopped as abruptly as it started. I’m getting to her. It’s not too late. We can get back to where we were.
She gasped. “Did you see that?”
“What?” He looked around the room, expecting to see a bug or a spider.
“The baby. She… Oh! Did you see it that time?”
“I missed it!” He dropped onto the floor and crawled down to sit by her end of the couch.
“Watch.” She pointed at her t-shirt covered abdomen. “On the right side. There!”
Something moved.
“I saw it!” Without thinking he reached his right hand out to lay it on her rounded belly, but stopped himself at the last second. “Is this still okay? I don’t know what the rules are anymore.”
“I guess so.”
He pressed his hand where he’d seen the last movement, and within a few seconds he felt a kick. He couldn’t help laughing. “That was strong. I think she’s trying to kick my hand away.”
Shifting to get comfortable, he sat back and propped himself up with Shrek, his right hand still up on her belly. Brooke guided his hand to chase the kicks around her abdomen.
“She’s training for the Olympics,” Brooke said.
“I believe it,” he said, as the next blow made his hand jump.
Somehow, he found himself leaning over to the side, his head sharing the edge of her throw pillow, while they both watched the acrobatics. As he caught a whiff of her intoxicating scent, he breathed in deeply, the baby’s movements forgotten.
“I’ve missed the way your hair smells,” he murmured. “In fact, I’ve missed everything about you.”
Her head turned toward him, her eyes locking with his. “I’ve missed you, too.” Her lower lip trembled, eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“Why are you crying?”
Her shoulders shrugged, and her hand came up to swipe across her eyes.
He climbed to his knees, and bent toward her, bracing Shrek on the arm of the couch. Cupping her cheek with his free hand, he traced her tear-streaked cheek with the pad of his thumb.
“What’s wrong? Isn’t it good that we missed each other?”
“It could be good, but I’m afraid it’s not.”
“I think it’s good,” he said. “Really good.”
He slowly lowered his mouth toward her, waiting for her objection… but it never came. His lips brushed against her cheek, which tasted of salt. He moved his mouth along the edge of her jaw, and she lifted her chin, exposing her neck to him. In that moment, he felt the weight of her trust and vulnerability.
He couldn’t let himself get carried away. Self-control must be his mantra. A chaste peck on the lips was as far as he should go.
He trailed his mouth up and pressed his lips to hers. But when she responded with hunger, his self-control went up in flames.
In that moment, he forgot all the rules. He forgot everything except Brooke… her face, her lips, her cheeks, her neck. The two of them, suspended in eternity. His hands tangled in her silky hair. He heard nothing but the sound of their labored breaths. He deepened the kiss, claiming her as his own. She couldn’t leave him again. The two of them were meant to be together.
His heart stopped. What am I thinking? We’re supposed to be friends.
Except what he was feeling for Brooke couldn’t be classified as friendship… not by a long shot. What he was doing was wrong… just plain wrong.
He ripped his lips away and sat back, panting for breath. “Brooke, I have to tell you something.”
“What?” she answered, breathless, her lips even more enticing in their swollen state.
“My sister gave me some advice, and I’ve been thinking about it. I’ve made a decision.” He paused, waiting for his racing heart to slow.
“Okay…”
He stared into her wide eyes, dark and deep, filled with trust. If he abused that trust, he would be no better than her ex.
“I’ve decided… my sister is wrong. We can’t be friends. I thought I could do it, but I can’t. When you’re around me… I lose control.”
His fingers traced the frown line between her brows and moved across her soft skin to brush her hair off her face.
“I agree,” she whispered, as if it hurt to speak louder. “It won’t work.”
“So what do we do?” he asked. “I’ve gotten used to having you in my life. I don’t want to lose you.”
