“S-sorry.”
“Slime?” He tilted his head like he was curious, which made me pause; he didn’t have a curious bone in his body. I was also mildly impressed he even recognized the noxious stuff, though I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of letting him know.
“I was a scientist in another life,” I offered lamely, trying to control my breathing. Did he have to be so attractive? So annoying? So perfect? Everything about Rip made me both homicidal and pitiful. I didn’t even understand my own feelings at this point; then again, I was basically living a life of no sleep and chaos, so maybe this was normal?
“Purple glitter, though? Really?” he asked.
At least he wasn’t yelling. Not that he ever raised his voice. Sometimes I wished he would, sometimes I wished he’d just react, one time in his life. But most of all, I wished that he would let himself mourn.
He hadn’t cried yet.
The only time he’d come near me—held me—was when I had.
He was still giving me a strange look that I couldn’t decipher, and I was thankful for the distraction from my thoughts. The flour made him look ridiculous but somehow also more approachable.
“What?” I didn’t move.
“Your eyes.” He licked his lips, and flour dust fell between our bodies. “I forgot how pretty they are up close.”
It was as close to a compliment as Rip had ever come to giving me.
I fought hard not to stare down at his plump lips, at the way his tongue had snuck out to wet them.
Something about the intense closeness broke me, made me want to get closer, made me need his comfort more than my next breath. I leaned in, expecting him to back away, or make an excuse or remind me of his vow to never touch me for as long as we both shall live. A vow he’d made after the one and only time we went on a disastrous date. Yeah, he was a real charmer back then, just like now.
And yet I couldn’t help the attraction I’d felt for him all those years ago.
Weeks ago.
Days ago.
He frowned, cradling the sides of my face.
This time felt different.
Altered.
Last time he’d been horrified by his own attraction to me.
Last time he’d been cruel.
Last time I’d written off any sort of hope we could be together.
This time, our foreheads touched on a rough exhalation.
This time, Rip Edison leaned forward and pressed a painfully slow kiss to my lips.
My breath caught as he deepened the kiss, tasting me like I was a chocolate sample he wanted to devour, and then as soon as I wrapped my arms around his neck the sound of a cry filled the air.
We quickly broke apart.
“Not it!” we declared in unison.
I gave him a look.
He sighed and then gave his head a shake and gently lifted me off his lap, rose to his feet, and headed upstairs to the kids’ rooms.