"You take skiing vacations?" Her curiosity shone through, almost as if she wanted to know.
For once in his life, it didn't feel like idle conversation. He felt like he wasn’t just saying words to pass the awkward time — he was having a real conversation, with a real woman.
"Used to… More like my grandfather dragging me with his other never aging pals," he divulged with a small nostalgic smile.
"He does look ageless," she mused with a look he could not interpret.
"Eyes on me," he growled, surprising both of them. But his look softened with another slow smile.
"I'm just saying," she countered with a mischievous smile of her own.
At this he arched his brows.
"I've never been skiing," she replied.
"I'll take you," he promised, shocking himself for being so forward.
"I can't leave Miranda behind.” Thankfully, she was looking down on her lap, too preoccupied to spy the confusion he wore boldly on his face.
"And her too," he replied almost in a whisper, realizing that it was true — he would take her anywhere, she need only ask.
"It would be one huge experience and memory for a long time to come," she said, her voice trailing away as if fearful for the things she was hinting at.
They both knew their marriage was not forever, and she was sorry for casting a pall on the previously jovial atmosphere.
"I know," he replied, his fingers tugging at the strip of flesh between her teeth. "But I can still take you, the two of you with me, six months is a long time."
"Thank you," she managed to say at last, as if she had forgotten to breathe.
He leaned a little closer, distracted by the way her pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips before retreating inside her mouth. He noticed the way her breath came in choppy exhales that seemed to pulse in sync with the blood roaring in his head. Her huge eyes were riveted on him, shining.
Their huge gleam reminded him of Miranda's, but there was none of the blind trust here nor that vulnerability. In Trinity’s eyes, he could only interpret strength, and… lust.
He leaned even closer until her breath fanned his lips, and his own exhale fairly mirrored hers.
"Daddy!"
The voice jolted the both apart, even though it came from a good distance away. They shifted and returned to their own respective seats. He watched beneath hooded lids as she attempted to calm herself, looking in every direction except his. He was not sure due to the whirlwind of Miranda arriving, but he could have sworn he saw Trinity swear under her breath.
He tried to put a composed smile over his face, turning his focus to the child.
?TRINITY?
That curious tremble assaulted her stomach again, and Trinity cupped her lower belly. She couldn't help herself — her body betrayed her at every turn. She had not been with another man except her husband.
Yes, a four year plus hiatus on sex, and she was ready to jump on the first man who looked sideways at her.
Okay, it was more than that… he had learned so close she could feel his breath fanning her cheeks, his eyes on hers as if asking a question. She had been too muddled for questions. All she had she wanted were those lips on hers, and she had been seconds away from touching them.
Then Miranda came home.
In hindsight, she should be grateful, but she couldn't help the dissatisfaction that had made her new composure a joke.
As if that was not enough, he could make her lose her mind by the way he looked in her eyes. He had sat back as if nothing happened and played the doting father through dinner.
He read two stories to Miranda and tucked her in at her request. The easy love and camaraderie between the two of them had another organ twisting painfully — her heart. He looked even more handsome without all that intensity and imposing, and she wondered if she would ever get to taste his lips again.
Twelve months,she reminded herself, then turned to pummel her pillow with a repulsive sigh.
