the church, the flowers ordered, the tuxes.” He rubs his hands down his jeans, shifting his weight as he continues. “About two months before the big day, I walked in on her with another guy, my brother. Nearly tore our family apart. Short story is they were married and divorced while I went to Nashville.”
“Do you still love her?”
“In some ways, I’ll always love her. She was my first love. But am I still in love with her? For a time I thought I was, but no, not now.” He shakes his head and his eyes look weary. “We’re still friends, but I’m not in love with her.”
“Ok, I guess I owe you a reward.” I lean in with a skeptical look and peck him on the cheek.
“Ok, my turn.” His eyes searching my face. “Do you miss being with women?”
“Do you think I missed men when I was with Angela?” I ask, incredulous, rolling my eyes. “You don’t miss anything when you are with someone that you love, that you want. Why would I miss having something if I was with what I thought was the coolest, sweetest, hottest person I could ever imagine?“ I look at him with a brow lifted. “Was that some kind of gimme after last night?”
“No, actually.” He smiles.
I snarl, “Ok, what’s my reward?”
He leans in giving me a soft, tender kiss. “Your turn.”
“You’ve mentioned your dad but never your mom.” Leaning back against my pillow, I take a sip of coffee. “What’s she like?”
“She’s alive and well and living out at the ranch. She’s a real sweetie. Everyone loves her. She’s a short shit like you. Brown hair and blue sparkling eyes. She’s a spitfire and crazy about my dad. Two hopeless romantics, forever in love, my mom says.”
“Ok, here’s your reward.” I lean forward and begrudgingly give him a quick kiss on the lips. “Your turn.”
He stares into my eyes, thinking, and says, “You’ve never mentioned your dad. Why not?”
“Honestly, I barely know him,” I say flatly. “He’s never home when I’m there, and when he is, he fades to the background. My mother engulfs him. Hell, she can suck all the air out of the room in a hot minute. The extent of his parenting skills is to say, ‘listen to your mother.’ Where’s my reward?”
He leans in, his hands on my face, pulling me closer and kisses me with a proper kiss. I force myself to refrain from swooning since I am still perturbed.
“Your turn,” I try for apathetic but it comes out mildly engaged.
“What did you love about Angela?” He asks. He actually looks sincere like he wants to know, but I smell an opportunity to stick it to him, and I have to take it.
“I loved her smile. She had a bright smile that could light up a room. Her hair was chocolate brown, long, with these long ringlets. Her skin was the prettiest creamy mocha and so soft. Her eyes were chocolate brown and when she looked at you, it felt like she could see right through you.” I smile looking at the floor. “She had quite the bullshit meter and she never took shit off anyone. If you tried to get in her face, she would get right back in yours.” I shake my head with a smile. “She was kind, sweet, honest, and the most wonderful person I have ever known. She loved her family and they completely accepted her. She cared about her world, wanted to make it a better place. She was amazing. Oh, and she was almost six foot. Well, you can see that in the picture, too.” My mouth twists as I continue. “Oh, and she had a great rack. Her body was fucking smoking. She loved to run. She actually ran every chance she got. Not an ounce of fat on her. Oh, and she was great in bed, too.” My eyes challenge him, willing to push out that male insecurity if I need to. If he’s going to leave, he needs to leave now.
“She sounds like someone you would love.” His smile is sweet and instead of the puffed-up response I expected, he’s not threatened at all. “I wish I had the chance to meet her.”
Damn it, why did he have to be so fucking sweet?
He leans in to give me my reward, which is a kiss. A molten-hot, moan-in-your-mouth, wanna-fuck kiss. He pulls away and I try miserably to act like I don’t care.
His voice is husky this