Go with the flow. “Your bedroom, perchance?”
“Yep. There are two bedrooms and a small bathroom on the second floor. Adele and I were up there for years. When Mom died, my daughter encouraged me to move into the primary suite. I wouldn’t have, but I realized she wanted more privacy. Sharing her bathroom with her dad was a bit much. I could’ve argued—” He shrugged. “—but she was a good kid who asked for very little. Granting her more space was the least I could do.”
“Is it weird? Sleeping in your mom’s room?”
“In that she died in the room? That brings a measure of comfort. She wanted to be with the people she loved in the house that meant so very much to her. I feel her spirit sometimes, you know? Like when I’m frustrated with Adele, I can hear Mom telling me to be patient.” He turned to face me directly. “She would’ve loved you. I’m sorry I never gave you that opportunity.”
“She lives through you. That’s a precious gift.”
His smile was a little shy. “She lives through Adele, too. She always told my daughter that she could do anything she set her mind to. Her mind is set on science, and I’ve nurtured that. She teased me today. Said she wanted to go to theater school. To follow in my footsteps.”
I cocked my head. “Regrets?”
“No. Adele needed me. My mom needed me. I landed just fine—great job, great friends, great daughter…”
“But still lonely.”
He bit his lower lip. “Well, yeah.”
I pulled him close. “Not for tonight, okay?”
“Well, yeah.”
He rested his head against my shoulder and I pulled him into my arms. So damn familiar—to the incongruous woodsy scent and his slim frame. Oh, and his ass that fit so perfectly in my hands. I whispered into his ear. “Make me remember.”
A phrase we used all the time.
He pulled back to meet my gaze. “Yeah. That.” Then he grinned. “But first I gotta put the dessert in the fridge.” He pointed to the cloth bag he’d brought in and casually put on the coffee table.
“And I have to piss. Great milkshake. Better than I remembered.”
“Yes, that. Why don’t you use the guest bathroom upstairs? I hate to say this, but my daughter is more fastidious than I am.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, okay.” I’d spotted the staircase, so finding my way would be easy.
Just before I left him—even for just a few minutes—I drew him close.
He must’ve read my intentions, because he wrapped his arms around my neck and tugged me down for a kiss.
Where I thought I might get passion and fierceness—because that’d always been our specialty—I got tenderness. A quick brushing of the lips. A small taste of what was to come.
He pulled back, pecked my cheek, stepped away, grabbed the bag, then disappeared.
I headed up the stairs. As much as I wanted to shower, I figured we could do that afterward. So I did everything that needed to be done, then I headed back downstairs.
Anderson stood in the kitchen, trying to put the soaps, and other items he’d clearly bought at the market, up on a high shelf.
Instead of watching him struggle, I nabbed them and set them presumedly out of reach of teenage girls.
He laughed. “I love that you’re taller than me and I’m jealous at the same time.” He huffed. “Adele’s taller than me as well.”
“You’re not worried she might find the gifts?”
“Uh, no. She does not spend her spare time in the kitchen.”
“How will you get them down?”
“I guess you’ll just have to be here to help me.”
