He might be a pro when it comes to casual sex, but I’ve never had a one-night stand in my life. In principle, I like the idea of it, but for me, sex and feelings have always been interwoven.
The bedroom lights are off upstairs, which is a good sign. Light flickers from the living room windows. Ronan must be watching TV. I pay the driver and step out of the car.
Will Ronan stay for a drink?
Will he try to kiss me again?
Am I brave enough to let him?
I creep into the wide hallway, a forbidden sense of excitement racing through my veins.
My heart warns me to tread carefully, but my vagina… she’s like a metal detector in search of a steel pole.
What if Icouldfind a way to separate sex and feelings? What if I gave into him just once? Just to get it out of my system?
It’s been so long since I experienced any intimacy.
I kick off my heels and pad barefoot towards the living area with my pulse racing and heat pooling in my core.
A familiar masculine scent fills the air as I tiptoe into the lounge.
The TV is on. Ronan is sprawled deliciously on my couch, with his shoes off and his t-shirt riding just high enough over his jeans for me to appreciate the distinctive V of his hips, the fine hair that trails beneath his waistband, promising untold treasure.
Unfortunately, my two beautiful daughters, who are draped across his chest, their golden hair spilling over his shoulders, put paid to my filthy ‘what ifs?’
It might be for the best, but the vision in front of me isonly fuelling my delinquent desires, because there is nothing sexier than a man who’s good with children.
Especiallymychildren.
I exhale a sigh of relief and frustration. At least I don’t have to make any hard and fast decision tonight.
Instead, I head in search of my vibrator.
Chapter Sixteen
RONAN
A movement on my chest rouses me from slumber. I blink hard and rub my eyes, wondering why it feels like I have six stone on top of my body.
Oh wait, I do.
Isla and Eden finally crashed out on my chest, watching the new Paw Patrol movie. If I ever see another animated dog in a cape, it’ll be too soon.
A quick glance at the huge, Shabby Chic clock mounted on Savannah’s wall shows it’s just past midnight. She should be home soon. A million hummingbirds swirl in my stomach at the prospect. Being in her house, surrounded by her possessions, and the floral scent of her perfume, does things to me.
I place a hand on each of the twins’ backs and rock forwards slowly into a sitting position. Isla is draped across the right side of my torso. I wiggle closer beneath her and slide Eden onto the couch.
Lifting Isla in a fireman’s carry, I tiptoe through the hallway lined with portrait after portrait of the girls.Christenings, birthdays, Christmases, and holidays. My heart swells in my chest at the smiling faces staring back at me.
I creep up the stairs, holding the rail for support, and steal into Isla’s bedroom. She took great pleasure in showing it to me earlier, even if it looked like the Tasmanian devil had whizzed through the wardrobe and flung every item she owned onto the floor.
Placing her gently on her plush pink bedsheets, I drop a kiss on her forehead and pull the blanket around her waist. Thank God I’d insisted they put their pjs on earlier. I close the bedroom door and go down to collect Eden.
Eden’s room is immaculate. Her books are colour-coordinated in her bookcase, her stuffed animals are lined up in order of size from largest to smallest, and she hasn’t left a stray shoe or dress anywhere, unlike her sister.
Is Savannah’s room tidy like Eden’s?
Or is she as chaotic as Isla?
