as he sets his glass on the small wood and stone table beside him then reaches down and lifts my booted foot. “Kai’s mother.”
“Not even in high school?”
Undoing the Velcro, he shakes his head again. “Wasn’t time.”
“Ethan,” I sigh.
He drops the boot on the ground and rubs my ankle. “I ken the importance of heartbreak. And trust me when I tell ye that I’ve had my fill.”
He presses against the spot where my break was. “Does this hurt?”
“No.”
He smiles and moves his hand up. “Here?”
“Nope.”
“Then I’d say ye could stop wearing the boot.”
“I’m healed?”
“Ye’re perfect.”
And you make me feel that way.
I smile over my glass of wine, and he shakes his head as he continues rubbing my leg.
“I don’t want to be the best at everything anymore; only those things that are important.”
“Like being a father,” I state. “You’re killing it.”
“I don’t want to open old wounds, but it was yer messages that made me realize how badly I needed to change so that, someday, Kai could send me text messages. So that, even after I’m gone, she will ken love and not just avoid its effects. I never had anyone tell me how to grieve, so I didn’t. And I never kent anyone who could write the things ye did, to feel as deeply as ye do, and to still find the strength to give a damn about the things that truly matter the most. Ye inspired me. Ye changed me. Ye made me want to be the best at being a father.”
“You’re going to make me cry,” I whisper.
“Please don’t. It makes my chest ache.”
He leans back, holding my foot to his chest, and looks up at the sky, slowly exhaling.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Aye.”
I begin to pull my foot away because I want to get up to hug him, to touch him, but he holds it still. Then, with his free hand, he reaches in his pocket and pulls out another little black box.
Leaning forward, he hands it to me. “Open it.”
When I open it, there’s another charm inside. It’s a magician’s top hat with a bunny sticking its head out.
“This is—”
“Yer gift is proving to an unbeliever that there’s magic in everyone.” He opens his hand and lifts a silver curb chain out of it, then fastens it around my ankle. “Ye’ve done that for me, too, Elizabeth Bloom.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Then say nothing. Just be here with me.” He holds his hand out for the new charm. “Allow me.” After he clips the charm on the anklet, he gets up, leans over, and kisses the top of my head. Then he straightens and holds his hand out. “Let’s test out how it feels without the boot. Dance with me?”
“Here?”
“We’ve all the elements, Elizabeth— you, me, music … Am I missing something?”
My two left feet.
I smile at the thought.
“What is it?”
“I should warn you that I’m more a dance in a group kind of girl, and I tend to get lost in the moment.”
“I quite enjoy being witness to the aftermath singular activities, but more enjoy being party to them.”
“There’s also the two left feet issue.”
His beautiful lips twitch as he reaches out and pulls me up. Then he grabs a small remote on the table next to the wine and raises the volume. “And here I was thinking it was the song.”
When I realize the song is “Issues” by Julia Michaels, I laugh as he grips my hips and pulls me against his hot, warm body. I melt into him, and everything becomes fluid. Hands skimming, body swaying, lips touching but only briefly, all in a manner meant to entice, to turn tingles to quakes, a prelude to orgasm.
When the song ends, I run my hands up his chest, his neck, and into his hair. I push up on my toes to get to his mouth.
He skims his hands up my back, follows the line of my arms, grips my hands, and pulls them free from the silky waves. His fingers link in mine as he dips to kiss then lick and nip my neck as the next song plays.
“Ethan,” I whimper.
“We have all night,” he whispers in my ear.
He’s a tease.
But he’s so damn good at it.
The next song ends, and I swear I can feel my heart beating its escape.
When another begins, I know it immediately. Not gonna lie, it’s one I listen to often and has made me stupid giddy thinking of its possibilities to someone in a situation that surely