Smiling down at him, I brushed my fingers through his hair, leaned up, and pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead.
I leaned back so he could see my mouth. “I love you.”
I LOVE YOU THE MOST, he signed.
ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT? I teased.
Because it wasn’t possible.
Not when he was my center. My earth, moon, and sky.
Night seeped in through the window and branches scraped at the eaves in the slight breeze. The tiny lamp on my nightstand cast my bedroom in a golden glow.
Basking it in warmth.
I lay propped against the white fabric headboard, surrounded by pillows and huddled under my comforter, reading some smutty novel Jenna had shoved at me and insisted I read.
It wasn’t helping things. Not with the riot that had been ignited in my body. Not after Kale had taken me to a place where I’d touched on the most intense kind of beauty.
My phone lit up on the nightstand, vibrating on the wood.
Unease slammed me when I glanced at the clock.
Twelve thirty-three.
It wasn’t all that late, but . . . still. I hated that I was instantly on guard. Continually on watch. God, how I was counting the days to that court date circled on the calendar. Two months and all of this would be over, and then Evan and I could finally fully move on.
But Jenna was right.
It was time I stopped tiptoeing and allowing Dane to control me in the way only he could—through fear and apprehension. The asshole knew my weakness.
And my weakness was my son.
Taking in a steeling breath, I prepared myself to fight another battle in this war and swiped my thumb across the screen.
The air left me on a shaky exhale.
Not Dane. Emotion pulled tight across my ribs when my eyes moved over the text.
Kale: Your son is amazing.
That emotion climbed my throat and trembled across my lips. My tongue swept out to wet them, unsure of how to respond, wondering what good any of this would do.
Still, I found myself tapping out a reply.
Me: He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
I almost jumped when my phone buzzed in my hand.
Kale: He looks like you. He has your eyes. Your hair. Your smile.
Kale: Your heart.
That one came in a few seconds behind. As if he’d hesitated to say it.
Hands shaking, I replied.
Me: If I could, I would give him mine.
Time spun on, me staring at my phone, wondering why the man made me feel as if I could tell him anything.
It was probably stupid that I’d even returned his text. Because we’d already established that we couldn’t do this. That the timing was all wrong. And even if the timing were right, I really had no idea what Kale’s intentions would be. If he even wanted to date a woman with a child. Because Evan and I? We were a package deal.
But that didn’t mean my heart wasn’t fluttering in its confines, legs trembling with the rush of excitement that stampeded through my body, warming my flesh.
I sucked in a breath when he responded.
Kale: I think you already have.
A wistful smile lifted my mouth. Gratefulness a shaky heave from my lungs.
It was as if he got it.
Understood the sacrifice.
I should have shut the conversation down, but instead, I was typing out another reply.
Me: He likes you.
His response was instant.
Kale: I like him, too. A lot.
A second passed and then another text came in.
Kale: Problem is, I like his mom as well. Not sure what to do about that.
Butterflies scattered.
God, what was I doing? But I couldn’t stop the way my bottom lip quivered, the way my belly flipped, or the way my fingers were all too eager as they tapped across the screen.
Me: Then I guess it’s an even bigger problem that his mom likes his doctor, too.
I bit my lip, knowing I needed to rein this in, so I sent a second behind it.
Me: But we can’t do this, can we?
I didn’t know if it was a question or a plea. Because my mind was back there, on that balcony where he’d made me feel like a woman for the first time in years. As if I’d been exactly where I was supposed to be.
As if maybe I’d belonged there all along.
His breath on my neck and his hands on my body.
My name on his tongue.
A shiver rolled down my spine and need became an achy appeal in my core.
Kale: What? Text?
I could almost see him lifting that strong brow, biting his lip as he fought a mischievous smile. It took everything I had not to imagine him doing it on his bed with his shirt off.
Me: This isn’t a joking matter.
Kale: No?
Me: No.
Kale: You’re right. It’s not. But tell me one thing. What’s the second-best thing that’s happened to you? I’d bet my bank account it went down on that balcony.