I laughed. “I won’t argue with you on that one. His name is Jackson. He’s actually going to be a father soon. Which will make me an auntie. That’s been such a weird thing for me to wrap my head around.”
“Auntie Katie. It has a nice ring to it.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” I smiled at the thought of my brother having a baby of his own, but as soon as I felt that joy, it was replaced by the all too familiar pit of despair in my gut.
I wanted that. Desperately. But I would never have it. Auntie was as close to a child related to me by blood that I would ever get.
“Did I say something wrong?” Peter asked.
“No,” I said, wishing my emotions hadn’t shown so plainly on my face. “No, not at all. Change is just a little scary sometimes, don’t you think?”
“I do, but those are usually the changes we’re grateful for the most.”
“Let me get this straight,” I said. “You’re a programmer, a handyman, and a prophet?”
Peter threw his head back and laughed. “That was kind of philosophical, wasn’t it?”
“A bit, but I didn’t hate it.”
“I hate that I said it.”
“Don’t. You’re right.”
“It was a little pretentious.”
I smiled at him. “Peter, I know I haven’t known you long, but you’re far from pretentious. Believe me. I know pretentious. They’re the kind of people I make a living off of.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
I admired the line of his jaw and the swell of his chest beneath his shirt and wondered if he would mind if I climbed into his lap, straddled him, and kissed him like I wanted to crawl down his throat and be part of him.
It was aggressive, I knew that, but there was something so compelling about him. It scrambled my mind and had me itching to be touched by him. I wanted his strong, warm hand on my thigh. I wanted his lips on my lips.
I wanted Peter everywhere.
I stood up. Peter watched, his face covered in patches of shade and sunlight as the sun streamed in through the canopy of leafy trees above. His eyes slid down and landed briefly on my ass, which I imagined couldn’t look all that good in his oversized sweatpants. When his gaze flicked back to me, he looked horrified that I’d caught him in the act.
“Erm,” he started. I could see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to think of the appropriate thing to say or do.
Fuck appropriate.
I moved to stand in front of him. He gazed up at me, lips slightly parted, and when I stepped closer so that the inside of my thighs touched the outside of his, he reached out and put his hands on my hips.
I lowered myself down to sit in his lap and draped my arms over his shoulders. “Were you checking out my ass, Peter?”
He swallowed. I liked the way his Adam’s apple slid slowly up and down his throat. “Maybe. Did you want me to be? Looking, I mean?”
I smiled coyly at him. “Maybe.”
“I appreciate flirty banter,” Peter said a little breathlessly, “but I have to warn you. You’re far too beautiful for me to keep up with. So I apologize in advance if you catch me staring at you like a deer in the headlights.”
I giggled.
“I mean it,” he pressed. “I’m a bit clumsy. And sometimes I don’t realize I’m staring. But if you’re patient with me—”
I took his face in my hands. “Peter? Stop talking.”
He clamped his mouth shut.
Seconds slowed down as I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. He tasted like coffee. I smiled against his kiss and he relaxed enough to wrap his arms around my lower back and hug me to him. I arched my back and felt a flutter of excitement as he went hard beneath me.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered against my lips.
“Hush.” I rocked my hips.
Peter groaned.
My entire body trembled with need. Peter’s fingers pressed into my lower back. Then his hands were up in my hair and cupping the nape of my neck. Soon, they fell to the front of his shirt that I wore, and his touch moved down to my hips so he could slide his hands up under the shirt and rest them on my waist. His palms were warm upon my bare skin, and if I hadn’t had to leave for work, I knew