It’s been an intriguing process, really, watching her morph into a more confident woman. The Kirsten I first became acquainted with was vying for her husband’s affection. Feeling less than enough. Of course, things only got harder from there. Kirsten admits to enduring sleepless nights of wondering, worrying, and denying, the way I did. In retrospect, it took a toll on her. Physically, with the wilted posture and tired eyes, but in other ways, too. She presented herself differently. Tentative, unsure, bruised.
But the woman I saw chatting with my brothers at the singles night—she’s different. And I realize now, as I watch her clapping for Paige’s performance, a wide, gorgeous grin on her face, that this is therealher.
“Attention, everyone,” Paige says once her audience is done clapping. She grins the cheesiest grin in Kirsten’s direction before looking at me. “Kirsten and Dad are going to sing a song together next.”
“What?” I glance over at Kirsten, who’s already climbing off her chair.
“Let’s go,” she says with the wave of her hand.
“Didyoudo this?” I ask.
Parker is typing a new prompt into the queue, which means he knows about it, too.
“Maybe,” Kirsten says. “Come on, it’s a good one.”
Since Jack and Paige sang a duet earlier, we already have the second mic hooked up. I grab the pink, sparkly one, naturally, and Kirsten gets the standard metal mic.
Instead of standing with our backs to the screen like Paige, we split and stand at either side of it so we can see the words and face our small audience at the same time.
I know from the very first beat that it’sChemicals Between Usby Bush. Such a great song. Not that I’m surprised; Kirsten has great taste in music.
The thing is, as I read and sing every word, I become more aware of the literal chemicals between Kirsten and me. Alive and electric, breathing life into emotions I haven’t felt in years. The budding hints of attraction—new, exciting, potent enough to ignite a fire in me. I bask in the familiar heat of it, remembering things like my first crush and those hard-to-get girls I had to work up the nerve to approach.
As soon as the song is through, I start musing on ways I can sit next to her during the movie. I’m so preoccupied with the dilemma that I miss the fact that Parker’s been reading Paige her bedtime story and is almost through. It’s one of her favorites—Runaway Pumpkin.
Soon, Paige is in bed, the popcorn is popped, and the screen is paused at the opening scene ofSilence of the Lambs.Parker’s making his way from the kitchen to the family room. Before he can sit, I say, “You can have the recliner if you want, man.”
“Nice!”
“Which means I get the loveseat to myself,” Jack says, plopping onto it like a bed and propping his ankles on the rounded edge. “Ah!”
Kirsten brushes my arm as she comes up beside me, a bottle of Diet Coke in hand. Even through the savory aroma of popcorn, I detect hints of something floral, like a rose. It’s soft, and feminine, and alluring.
I glance over, and her warm, hazel eyes lock on mine. A new flash of heat surges through me.
“Guess that leaves us with the couch.” I don’t sound sad about it, either. I just hope I don’t come across as too eager. I decide to let Kirsten take a seat first. That way, I can make a point to sit next to her.
She picks a corner seat and slides her drink onto the end table at her side. I sink onto the middle cushion, careful not to crowd her, and glance over as the lights dim. “How long has it been for you?” I ask under my breath.
Her cheeks flush red. “Huh?”
I grin, realizing the question came off more insinuative than I’d meant it to. I glance toward the screen. “Since you’ve watched this.”
“Oh, gosh, geez, I don’t know.” She is adorable when she’s flustered. I make a note to tease her more often. “I don’t think I’ve watched it since Jack was born.”
“Good,” I say. “Maybe it’ll feel like the first time.”
Her eyes go wide, then narrow, as she shoots me an accusatory look. She’s onto me, and I’m just fine with it. So long as she and I are in the same place. The look in her eyes tells me we are.
Parker clears his throat. “You two ready?” He has the remote pointed to the screen.
Jack flicks off the lamp nearest him, and my awareness of Kirsten’s proximity piques. I blow out a slow breath, reminding myself that we’re in a room with—not my parents like when I was young—but my own kid. And hers too. That’s a good thing, I decide. No need to come on too strong.
As the movie plays, Kirsten seems to relax. Sinking deeper into the couch, allowing herself to first graze my arm and then lean gently against my shoulder. I suck in a greedy, rose-scented breath and let her warm presence bathe over me like some sort of elixir. When the movie is through, we turn on the second one.
Kirsten gets closer as the boys doze off one by one. And soon, Kirsten’s breaths become slower and deeper, falling between the rhythmic sound of Parker’s soft snore. Her head rests on my shoulder, and as I turn to look at her, I’m shocked by how close her mouth is to mine. I take in her features, illuminated by the glow from the screen. Her pale lids are makeup-free, and I feel the odd desire to press kisses to each. And to her flushed cheeks, a soft, pale pink. But as I breathe in that floral scent once again, my focus drops to her plump, rosebud lips.
My mouth actually waters at the thought of locking lips with her. Temptation flares hot and low in my belly, urging me on. It wouldn’t hurt to reach out and give her one innocent kiss, would it?
