“Look at you. Shattering every dry spell I’ve ever had.” His elated look turns disgruntled. “I just wish it weren’t another man’s song that broke this particular one.”
So territorial.I bite back a smile.
“Doesn’t matter,” I say. “Hardest part is over. You picked up the guitar. Spite is a great motivator, huh?”
His hands tighten where they still rest on my waist. “That wasn’t spite motivating me, darlin.’”
“What then?”
“Same thing that’s been man’s number one motivator since the dawn of time.” His eyes glint. “Trying to impress a woman.”
He bends his head to murmur in my ear, “Worked, didn’t it?”
I laugh. “Your ego is out of control.” I shake my head, pretending like I’m not finding that arrogance way more charming than I ought to.
Then, more seriously, I say, “Walker. You should record that. That’s one of the best cover songs I’ve ever heard.”
“I don’t know. Feels weird to come out of seclusion with a cover song. If I put something out there at this point, I want it to be a song of my own. A new one.”
“So write it.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Just get something on the page. Then you can play it for me, and I’ll tell you if it passes the mayonnaise and chartreuse test.”
He grins, warm and a little crooked. “You know, I’d rather hear you tear my bullshit to pieces than listen to anybody else’s words of praise.”
I bring my hands up to his cheeks and kiss him again. Now that we’ve started kissing, I never want to stop. “You want to impress me? Write a song, cowboy.”
He catches my hand before I can pull away and drags me to him for yet another kiss. We both let the brakes off ourselves and now we can’t stop touching each other.
It feels so easy to fall into each other like this. So natural.
As we make out, I'm reaching around to grab his butt when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He doesn’t appear to notice, so I break the kiss and murmur, “You’re vibrating.”
His lips trail along my collarbone. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Perv. No, really.” I reach into his pocket to fish out his phone and hand it to him.
He glances at the screen, still kissing his way down my neck. “Dad's dropping Jonah off in an hour.”
I put both hands flat on his chest to create a small amount of space between us. “How do you want to handle this? Us. When it comes to Jonah.”
He looks away.
“He's already so attached to you.” His eyes come back to me, and he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “More than he's been to anyone since… well, since his mom. Maybe even more. You’re the one who’s here every day, you’re the one who spends time with him. He’s bonded to you hard. And he feels that love you give him back. He’s just soaking it up like a little sponge.”
“I know.” My chest aches saying it. “And I love him too. Which is exactly why leaving is already going to be so hard. And…”
I take a deep breath. It’s all crystallizing now.
“That means we should be discreet,” I say. “For his sake. Don’t you think?”
“You're probably right,” he says slowly. “I don't want him getting confused. Getting his hopes up. Thinking things are…” He almost flinches. “Thinking things are one way and having it turn out different.”
“So we carry on like we have been. No kissing in front of him. Business as usual during the day. Whatever this is, we keep it separate.”
“Whatever this is,” he repeats. A little pointed. He’s clearly not stoked on this approach. “So what, you sneak into and outof my bed? I can’t pull you into my arms or hold you close when he’s around?”
