Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“Why don’t you relax while he plays?” Tate gestured over to the couch. “Can I pour you a glass of wine while I make dinner?”
“Sure, yeah,” I said. “That’d be great. I could stand to relax a bit. Just one glass, though, because I have to drive.”
“Got it.” He nodded. “White, red…rosé?”
“You bought different kinds of wine, too?”
He shrugged. “Didn’t know what you liked.”
“I like all three, but I’ll have red tonight.”
“Coming right up.”
Red matched my mood. It felt more tumultuous.
I sank into the sofa, feeling like a huge weight had lifted. I hadn’t known what to expect with this visit, but it had gone well, despite the tension in the air between Tate and me. From Nicholas’s perspective, it had been the perfect day. And I didn’t really want to leave either.
Of course, even thinking that was dangerous. But I felt safe around Tate. And I loved that my son got to be with his dad, even if he didn’t realize it. One day he would, and days like this would mean even more.
I’d been resting my eyes when Tate’s deep voice startled me. “Here you go.”
I opened them and took the glass of red. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he murmured.
When he walked back to the kitchen, I longed for his presence. Even if we couldn’t touch each other, I still ached for him, ached for his eyes on me.
I sipped the wine slowly, appreciating the warmth of this humble rental home and, most of all, appreciating the effort Tate had put into this visit. From my seat on the couch, I had a clear view into the kitchen—a clear view of Tate moving around, opening cabinets and drawers as he cooked. There was nothing sexier than a hot man who knew his way around the kitchen. I enjoyed this side of him, yet sadness washed over me. What if someday he met someone? Now I’d have a front-row seat to it. The only good thing about having been estranged from Tate was not witnessing him with other women. Now that was inevitable. I’d dodged a bullet with Leah, but that luck wouldn’t last forever.
Khloe, Tate’s dog, interrupted my staring as she hopped up on the couch and took the spot next to me.
“Hey, you,” I muttered, rubbing between her ears. She closed her eyes.
My gaze traveled back to Tate and the way his jeans hugged his ass as he stood at the stove. A vision of that brawny body hovering over me haunted my memories. My skin tingled. I hated that I couldn’t control these sensations.
“Mama, look!” Nicholas called.
He had arranged the trains in a pattern he was apparently quite proud of.
“Wow, honey. You did so good.”
A moment later, Tate called us into the kitchen. He’d plated our food and had poured me a glass of seltzer and Nicholas some lemonade.
While Tate had also served himself, rather than eat, he mostly watched Nicholas twirl his pasta and slurp the noodles. Watching a father fall in love with his long-lost son one precious moment at a time was beautiful—truly a gift to me as well.
“This is really good. It’s al dente,” I said with my mouth full.
“Yeah. My mother always taught me not to overcook it.”
“Your mom’s Italian, right?”
“Yeah.” He grinned. “Taylor must have told you.”
“You definitely get your looks from the Italian side.”
“Taylor looks like his mom,” he pointed out.
“That did nothing to help me figure out your connection to him.” I smiled over at Nicholas. “He likes your al dente pasta, too.”
Tate placed his hand on my arm, sending a shiver down my spine. “You sure you don’t want another glass of wine?”
I cleared my throat. “I can’t if I’m gonna drive home.”
“Well, I was gonna say…” He shifted in his seat. “You’re welcome to stay here, if you don’t want to drive back tonight. It’s dark. And there are two bedrooms. You could stay with Nicholas in the bigger one, or you could each take one, and I can sleep on the couch.”
I thought about it for a moment, but then shook my head. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea for us to stay.” I looked over at Nicholas. “He likes his bed.”
That wasn’t it. But I couldn’t admit that staying overnight with Tate made me nervous. I was afraid of feeling any closer to him than I already did, and afraid of somehow feeling rejected. The more time I spent with him, the more agonizing it was to think I couldn’t have him. I longed for the days when our being together didn’t hurt anyone.
“Okay.” He nodded, moving the food around on his plate. “Whatever you think. No pressure. I just wanted to let you know it’s an option, since you’re not exactly right around the corner.”
We finished eating, and I was getting ready to collect our things to leave when thunder rumbled in the distance. Then came the sound of rain pelting against the roof.