My throat tightens, and my vision blurs as tears well in my eyes. I blink rapidly, trying to hold them back, but one escapes, sliding down my cheek before I can catch it.
“She really just…left?” My voice breaks on the last word.
I can’t fathom walking away from that beautiful little girlwith her wild curls and endless questions. From Aidan, who clearly gives everything he has to being a good father.
There are so many people who would give anything to have what she did. People likeme.
Aidan’s eyes snap to my face, catching that single, stubborn tear. “Some people aren’t meant for this kind of life,” he says, his voice carefully controlled.
I shake my head, the ache spilling over. “That doesn’t make it okay.”
“No,” he agrees. “It doesn’t.”
He shifts beside me, closing the distance, and suddenly, I’m caught in the heat radiating off him. His hand moves slowly, hesitant, asking permission without words. Then his thumb brushes the tear away, so light it steals my breath.
“You’re crying for us,” he says, a quiet kind of wonder threading through the roughness in his voice.
I lean into his touch before I even realize I’m doing it. “Of course I am.”
His palm cups my cheek now, and I can feel a slight tremor in his fingers. “Lucy…”
His eyes drop down to my lips, and the whole world shrinks. Breathing feels like a stranger, and every instinct screams at me to close the space that’s been hovering for too long.
Before the doubt claws its way in, I lean in, closing the last inch, and press my lips to his.
For one heart-stopping moment, he freezes, and I’m afraid I’ve made a terrible mistake. My heart clenches, bracing for the rejection that I’m sure is coming. Then his hand slides from my cheek to the back of my neck, pulling me closer with an urgency that ignites a wildfire inside me.
His lips are softer than I imagined, but the kiss itself is anything but gentle. It’s hungry and desperate, like he’s beenstarved for this and I’m the first taste of something that finally fills him. His mouth moves against mine with a fevered need.
His hand tangles in my hair, tugging me closer. I fold into him without thinking, meeting the heat of his mouth as the kiss deepens. A sigh escapes me, and the moment it slips free, he smiles against my lips. A satisfied curve that tells me he heard every ounce of want in it.
I slide my hands to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath my fingertips, the hard, comforting rhythm that only amplifies my own racing pulse. I could get lost in the way his mouth moves against mine, in the way everything else falls away—the noise, the world, everything that’s not this.
When we break apart, both of us breathless, his forehead rests against mine.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now,” he confesses, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me.
I smile, running my fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck. “Me, too.”
He pulls back, his gaze searching mine. “This changes things.”
“I know,” I whisper, because I do. This isn’t just about us. There’s Isla to consider, and all the hurdles that come with letting someone new into their carefully constructed world.
“If this goes wrong—” he starts, but I reach up, pressing my fingers gently against his lips, stopping the words before they can form.
“Don’t,” I whisper. “We don’t have to figure it all out right now.”
His eyes hold mine. There’s a battle waging inside him—fear warring with something that looks dangerously like hope.
“I’m not going anywhere, Aidan,” I say softly. “Not unless you want me to. And I promise to be so careful where Isla is concerned.”
He takes my hand, pulling it away from his lips but not letting go. His thumb traces slow circles against my palm, sending tingles up my arm.
“I’m thirty-five years old, Lucy.”
“Okay?”
“You’re…twenty-five.”
