A Girl's Guide to Moving On (New Beginnings #2) - Debbie Macomber Page 0,35
looked down at me. “I give you bread to say what I not able to say with words.”
My whole being hungered to hear those words. His eyes held mine, bright and unblinking, filled with longing.
With pressure at the base of my neck he eased my head forward and settled his lips over mine. I am at a loss to describe what his kiss did to me. I felt that single kiss in every part of my body. My response was immediate. I opened to him like a desert flower after a cloudburst that flooded the arid soil. My heart beat so hard I was afraid it might injure one of my ribs.
Nikolai’s fingers wove through my hair, and when he broke off the kiss, he buried his face in my neck.
I was speechless, unable to utter a single word, shocked at my unbridled response to him. It frightened me that I could feel such overwhelming emotion from a single kiss.
This came less than a week after my conversation with Kacey. I’d insisted that I didn’t need a man in my life. What I found shocking was that I wanted a man. Not any man. I wanted Nikolai. With effort, I eased myself from his arms.
He leaned his forehead against mine. “You give me chilly bumps.”
I smiled gently and softly pressed my lips to his. “Goosebumps.”
“See. Look at my arms.” He stretched out his arm for me to examine. “You do that. You make my heart loud. Feel.” He captured my hand and pressed it against his chest. “See what you do?”
His face was open and warm as he studied me. He saw me as beautiful, as if I were a woman to be worshipped and cherished. His eyes were so tender I was unable to keep the tears at bay.
The first teardrops made wet trails down my cheeks. Nikolai used the pads of his thumbs to smear them away. “Why you cry?” he asked, frowning. “I hurt you with my kiss?”
“No, never.”
“But you cry?”
“I don’t know why.” I did, but telling him would only encourage him to kiss me again.
“I come to class on Wednesday,” he promised.
I nodded.
“We talk then. Have more Ukrainian beer.”
I couldn’t help myself. I smiled.
“You even more beautiful when you smile.” He opened the car door and I slid inside. He closed it and stepped back. I drove off, my head muddled, my thoughts confused.
It was after ten by the time I arrived back at the apartment. Knowing Kacey was a night owl, I sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace and called her, pressing the cell hard against my ear.
“Leanne, has something happened? Are you all right?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer her. “I’m wonderful.”
“If that’s the case, then why are you phoning me this late? This isn’t like you.”
She was right. In all our acquaintance I’d never phoned past nine. “I was thinking about what you said last week when we had lunch.”
“I said a lot of things.”
“I know. I’m talking about your suggestion that I log on to one of those dating websites.”
“You’re gonna do it?” She sounded surprised.
I closed my eyes and bit into my lower lip. “Yes,” I whispered. “I’m ready to date again.”
Nikolai had shown me exactly how ready I was.
The final divorce papers, signed and recorded, arrived in the mail on Tuesday afternoon. Neither Jake nor I were required to be in court. The entire cut-and-dried process had been handled by our attorneys. I didn’t read the papers, didn’t even open the envelope until after Owen was down for the night. As soon as my son was asleep, I took them out of the envelope and stared at the legal jargon for several minutes. My heart pounded like the judge’s gavel, securing the nails in the coffin of my marriage.
Two hours later I sat in the dark, sipping the expensive wine Rocco had brought with him the week before in appreciation for the dinner and dance lesson. I didn’t know when the tears started. They came unbidden, unwelcome. I thought I’d shed all the tears I had in me over the failure of this marriage. But I was wrong.
Within an hour I’d emptied nearly an entire box of tissues and blown my nose so often I was sure it would be as red and swollen as my eyes come morning.
When my cell rang I almost didn’t answer until I saw that it was Jake. I knew he had to be hurting as much as me.