My heart beat faster.
“Or I can use the step stool.”
My stomach sank.
He turned to place his hand on my chest. “I know which I’d prefer. Now, come to bed.”
“With pleasure.”
His bedroom was a soothing dove gray with burgundy accents—curtains, comforter, and throw pillows. “No floral?”
He laughed yet again. “Mom said I was free to redecorate. I let Adele help me—so that she didn’t feel I was getting rid of her grandmother’s things. They’re in her hope chest—for when she feels ready to deal with them.”
“Ah.”
“My daughter—the sentimentalist.” He grabbed the hem of his henley and yanked it over his head. “I doubt she got that from me.”
Breathing proved difficult as he exposed all that perfect porcelain skin.
He arched an eyebrow. “I expect reciprocity.”
“Yeah, okay.” I’d worn a cable-knit sweater earlier, but the market proved warmer than I expected, so I’d stripped down to my T-shirt. Now, I untucked it from my jeans and yanked it over my head.
He just stared. “God, you’re as beautiful as ever.”
I didn’t always feel beautiful. I wasn’t slim like the other guys. I had a bit of padding around the waist. All that being said, I had decent muscles. The job required a lot of heavy lifting. “I don’t know what to say.”
“How about you strip and we get into bed and let our bodies do that talking? I know I’ve overshared tonight.”
“No.” I held his gaze. “There’s no such thing. I want to know all about your life. I’ve missed so much of it.” I wanted to demand that I not miss any more, but he likely wasn’t in the right frame of mind to hear that. He needed time to adjust to the idea of having me in his life again.If he lets me stay.
Chapter Seven
Anderson
Something shifted in the room.
We’d alternated light and serious all night. What we hadn’t done, in any great depth, was talk about the past.
I’d convinced myself—at the time and for the seventeen years after that—he’d been better off without me. That with a child, I would only weigh him down. Computer programmers weren’t known for being sexy—stereotypes and all that—but I expected he’d found some high-paying job. That he was living the best life. Instead of at a farm a mere thirty miles away.
Is he happy? He says he could’ve sold when his dad died…
Really? This is what you’re thinking about? You have a half-naked man in front of you.
I unbuttoned my jeans.
He licked his lips. Then mirrored my actions.
I was still as slender as the day I’d met him. Drove Damian nuts that I could eat just about anything and not gain a pound.
Oh well.
I yanked down jeans and underwear—carefully. I wasn’t fully hard yet…but I was getting closer.
He pulled down his jeans. Then with a bit of a striptease, he lowered his boxers.
This time, I licked my lips.
