He’s not done. At least I hope he’s not. There’s got to be more.
“I worried that there was something wrong with me.”
“No.” I shake my head.
“I was concerned, you know, thatyou’ddecide I wasn’t fatherhood material.”
“Me?” I squeak. It couldn’t be helped. “You’ve thought about having kids? With me?” Oh, my god. Of courseI’vepictured him as the father of my children. Who wouldn’t? I mean—hello—ovaries exploding.
“Yeah.” He pulls me closer and places one hand on my lower back and the other on the side of my neck. “I like you, Colette. Enough that I want to see where this goes. And yes, I’ve imagined what our kids would look like…”
“And?”
“You want to know what our kids will look like?” He chuckles. “Hopefully red hair and blue eyes.”
Oh. My. God. I feel moisture gather in the corner of my eyes. My voice cracks. “Really?”
“Really.” Sam’s head slowly moves closer to mine, but he stops right before— “Doyouwant to see where this goes, Colette?”
That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Do I?
Part of me thinks it’s a waste of time, considering Sam Griffin is, well, him. Then there’s the baggage with my dad. Blinking, I look into Sam’s eyes. They’re so close, I see all the little flecks and nuances. I also see something that makes my heart hurt a little bit, and that’s uncertainty. Time to be honest with this man and with myself. Nobody has ever made me feel the way he does, physiologically. My body becomes charged with a million volts whenever he’s near. And then that goes times two when he touches me. That aside, he also makes me laugh and think and feel safe. Not that I need a man for all those things, but it’s nice. It’s really nice. I know if I say the wrong thing here, I’ll regret it. I’ll question it for the rest of my life. So I say, “I do. I’d like to see where this goes.”
He bends even closer. Holding up my finger between us, I add, “With the caveat that we’re completely honest with one another. If it’s not working, we don’t try to force something that isn’t…” I need a good word here … the right word.
“Organic?” Sam asks with a smirk.
“Exactly.”
“Agree.” And then his lips touch mine, and my arms wrap around his broad shoulders, closing in around his neck. I feel his hands slide down until they’re both on my ass, and then I’m up off the ground. I wrap my legs around him, and while I’m concerned he’s going to hurt his back, I choose to get into this kiss.
Ideservethis kiss, damn it.
And boy, the man doesn’t disappoint. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, which is super nice. But what undoes me is the growl that starts in his chest and rumbles up. I know, because my body is pressed so tightly against his, I feel everything.
Everything.
And, holy hell, I’ve missed this man.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
About Time
Sam
Jesus. It’s about fucking time. How long has it been since I’ve touched this woman? Months? It feels like months—maybe years. “Colette,” I hiss as I kiss her cheek on the way to her neck. “Fuck,” I curse, nibbling on her earlobe. I’m hard. I’m sure she can feel it, since I’ve got her wrapped around me like a spider monkey.
“Sam.” She breathes my name as she uses her tongue to do the most erotic shit to my ear.
“Want you.” So fucking much. “Need you.” More than she’ll ever know.
“Here?” She looks up at me, then at the deck. “Where?”
She’s actually considering it? Us fucking right here, right now?
I knew I loved this girl.
Wait…
