But he’d never been in love with Fee.
Not the way he’d always been in love with Elle from the first time he saw her with Annie, her beautiful face lit up with laughter, walking into the same pub they went to last night.
He studied that face in the dim light and slid his thumb along her lower lip.
“How can I no’?” he answered her question with a question.
She shook her head and tried to pull away.
His hand left her face so his arm could lock around her back.
She stilled and whispered, “I don’t understand.”
He pulled her even closer. “You don’t have to understand. I do. Isn’t that enough?”
She shook her head again, her body still tight. “I don’t think –”
He cut her off, asking, “Do you like it here?”
He felt her frame jerk and she stammered, “P… pardon?”
“Do you like this house?” he enquired.
She slightly relaxed and her voice was soft when she replied, “It’s a beautiful house, Pren.”
“Do you like being with the children?”
Her voice was suddenly firm (and slightly loud) when she replied, “Of course I do!”
His fingers went to her hair, pulling out the holder so its weight tumbled into his hand.
He fisted it, dipped his face closer and asked, “Do you like being with me?”
“Pren –”
“Answer me, Elle.”
She tried to turn her head away but he held her fast with his hand in her hair.
“Elle –” he prompted.
“What does it matter?” she whispered.
“Because if you like it and you want it, you can have it,” he told her, pulling her head back so he could rest his forehead on hers. “I think it’s about time you get what you want, baby. Don’t you?”
He was getting somewhere. He knew this because her body relaxed into his and her hands at his waist slid around his back.
“I like it,” she said softly and her body pressed closer. “And I want it.”
Yes, thank Christ, he was finally getting somewhere.
He felt like roaring his triumph.
He didn’t because she went on.
“But –” she began.
His hand in her hair tightened, his other arm giving her a squeeze, stopping her next words.