“Yes, please.”
That made me smile. She was simply adorable. I brushed my lips over hers. Her mouth was soft and warm, and although I’d only intended a brief good-night kiss, just one taste of her and my intentions flew out the window.
I moved to one corner of her mouth, teasing her with little flicks of my tongue. Her breath hitched, and when she tried to meld our mouths together, I dodged her attempt, moving to the other side of her lips, then gently nipped on her bottom lip.
She let out a soft whimper, and I was lost. I swept my tongue into her mouth, finally and fully tasting her. And forgetting we were standing in a restaurant’s parking lot, I plastered my body against hers as our tongues tangled in an age-old dance. It had been so long since I’d had a woman’s soft body pressed against mine, and I desperately wanted her. Right here. Right now.
Before I truly lost my mind and ravished her in a parking lot, I lifted my head, smiling down at her. It was only because of my training that I was able to project an image of control. Inside I was a trembling mass of desire. At least I wasn’t the only one affected by that kiss. Her chest heaved as she sucked in air.
“Good night, Red.” I wondered what she’d say if she knew she was the first woman I’d kissed since burying my wife.
“That was nice,” she said, then ducked into her Lady car.
I grinned as I watched her drive away. Nice, huh? “Next time we kiss, Jenny Girl, I’ll do better than nice.” I gave her a ten-minute head start, and then I drove by her apartment to assure myself that she was tucked safely inside, no ex-boyfriend giving her trouble.
With nothing else to do in my new small town, I turned the car for home. Not having restaurants and clubs on every corner was going to take some getting used to, but I didn’t regret leaving Chicago. My ex-partner was still on the force, and seeing him every day, imagining his mouth on my wife, thinking of the two of them in bed together—I just couldn’t do it anymore.
When I’d discovered their affair, I’d gone ballistic. What man wouldn’t when walking into his bedroom and finding his wife and best friend tangled up in the sheets? I was supposed to be out of town, and I had been. Unfortunately for them, I’d cut out of the criminal behavior workshop a day early. Surprise!
When I started thinking of ways I could get away with killing my former friend, I knew it was time to leave. The only thing I didn’t blame him for was my wife’s suicide. That was all on me, and why she still haunted me. She begged me to forgive her, but I had my pride. I couldn’t even look at her without seeing her and Jack together.
Before that day, she had been my everything. I moved into the guest room because I couldn’t bring myself to get back in that bed, and when she pleaded with me to go to counseling with her, I refused.
From the moment I first saw Christine, I was entranced, and even though she’d taken a rusty knife and cut out my heart, I had still loved her. But I couldn’t stand the thought of touching her, and my confusion had eaten me alive. I still wanted her, yet I didn’t. It hadn’t made sense.
What had I done to drive her into another man’s arms? She tried to tell me once how and why it happened, but I couldn’t listen and had walked out of the house. There was no reason she could give me to make me forgive her. I don’t know why she put my gun in her mouth and pulled the trigger. Was it because she couldn’t stand the thought of a divorce, which I’d asked for? Or was it guilt that drove her to it? Since she hadn’t left a note, I’d never know.
Christine had never been an easy woman to love, but I’d loved her all the same. She had been high maintenance, but I’d believed I was up to the task. When she needed reassurance that she was pretty and desirable, I gave it to her. When she had crying spells for no reason that she could explain, I’d held her, doing my best to soothe her. She’d had bouts of depression throughout our marriage, but anytime I suggested she see a therapist, she’d adamantly refused. I should have pushed the issue, insisted that she go. But then she’d seem okay, and I’d let it drop. Shame on me for that.
There were times when she went on shopping sprees that could have bankrupted us if not for her father’s money. I didn’t care. That money was there for her to spend. Her father, a former senator, doted on his only child, and had accused me of wanting to marry her for her money. That burned because he refused to see that I understood her—or thought I had until she cheated on me and then took her life. I wanted nothing to do with his money and had never touched a penny of it.
When he’d died, everything went to her since her mother had passed when Christine was in high school. My wife was a millionaire several times over, and now I am. I still refuse to touch a penny and never will. After I buried her, the first thing I did once her will was read was set up a foundation in her name for college scholarships for underprivileged kids in Chicago.
Back in my apartment, I went straight to the shower. As I toweled dry, I wished I hadn’t thought about Christine. She always appeared whenever she was on my mind, and I wasn’t looking forward to going to bed knowing she’d show up. To delay the inevitable, I opened the windows and listened for my owl. When I heard hishoos, I turned on the fan and got in bed. I had sleeping pills my therapist had prescribed, and those kept her away, but I hated taking them. They made me groggy for a few hours after waking.
My therapist had urged me to contact one of the specialists in grief counseling on the list he’d given me. All of them were in Asheville, and I wasn’t willing to take time off from my new job right now for appointments that would take up half my day. I had also been hoping that Christine would stay in Chicago and not follow me to Blue Ridge Valley. If she persisted in hanging around, I was going to have to give in and make a damn appointment.
“You’re starting to piss me off, Christine,” I muttered as I drifted off.
You kissed her.
Hello, Christine. I’ve been expecting you. We really have to stop meeting like this. Isn’t there a white light or something you’re supposed to disappear into?
Are you going to kiss her again?
I hope so.
I don’t want you to.
And I didn’t want you to kiss Jack, but you did, so you lost the right to tell me who I can’t kiss.
Apparently she didn’t like that because she disappeared. Half-awake now, I sighed, pumped up my pillow, and listened to my owl.
9
~ Jenny ~
Crap. Five minutes to closing, and Chad the Persistent showed up. Apparently he didn’t care that I had a new boyfriend. I was meeting Dylan at Fusions for a drink as soon as I was done here. The last thing I needed was a confrontation with my ex-boyfriend, emphasis on the ex. All the tables were empty, and there was only one couple left at the bar finishing up their last drink.
