“And will those lessons be in Rios or Memphis?” Joel asks, his tone switching from relaxed to far too casual.
There’s no missing the tension in his shoulders as I slide a box of cereal into a cupboard near the sink. He’s resting one hip against the counter, arms crossed, but there’s no way this man is as calm as he’s pretending to be.
“Your life is in Rios.” My heart thinks it might be here too; my guilt whispers that it’s too soon to move on from Simon. And my body? Hasn’t stopped responding to the three men in this house like a bale of straw going up in flames.
“It doesn’t have to be forever. People make a home. When those people are gone, it doesn’t feel the same.”
I know all about how losing someone can change the feel of a familiar place once filled with so many happy memories. Homestopped feeling like home after Simon was gone. Selling up was one of the easiest decisions I ever made.
I stop putting away groceries and turn to face Joel. He watches me, expression unreadable. “Are you telling me you’d follow Ben and me to Memphis?”
He uncrosses his arms and walks slowly toward me, giving me all the time in the world to run or tell him to stop. I do neither. I watch and wait, my breath catching in my throat as he closes the distance between us. His hands rest on the counter on either side of me, caging me in. His body is inches away, our hips almost, but not quite, touching.
“If I had to.” His heated gaze flicks to my mouth. “Do I have to?”
I look away, focusing on the paper grocery bags I left on the floor, before he kisses me. More importantly, before he sees how much I want him to.
“Is Rios that bad?” he asks when I don’t reply.
I shake my head and curl my fingers, resisting the urge to touch. Joel is so very tempting. “It’s not that. My parents will expect Ben and me to go home after this road trip.”
We abandoned it before we even started, and I’m not sure when we’ll pick it up again. Summer won’t last forever. Ben will start school in the fall, and a road trip like this can’t happen again until next summer at the earliest. With a newborn needing all my attention, the odds of me getting in a car for a three-week road trip across the country are slim to none.
“And what do you and Ben want?” Joel asks, voice low. “Because I’d say your parents would want whatever makes the two of you happiest.”
He’s right.
“I think it’s pretty clear what Ben wants,” I say, still not looking at him.
“And what do you want?”
“I don’t know,” I lie. When he doesn’t respond, I peek up at him. “What?”
“I told you I wouldn’t be pinning you against walls and kissing you.”
I gulp at the heat in his eyes. “You did say that.”
“But if feelings are involved…” he trails off.
“Then?” My heart skips a beat, and my eyes betray me by darting to his mouth.
“That changes things.”
And I realize he led me right into a trap of my own making.
My lips curve into a reluctant smile. “You know I want you to kiss me, don’t you?”
His smile is blink-and-miss. “I usually have some idea when a woman is thinking of kissing me. You keep looking at my mouth for one.”
My gaze drifts to it again, fuller at the bottom than at the top, as if drawn by an invisible string. “I wanted to at the firehouse.”
“When I called you bossy?”
I lick my dry lips, and he groans in response. He dips his head but stops short of kissing me.
“Earlier. When your brother told me about Waffles.”
He lets out a choked, pained sound. Wincing, he slams his eyes shut. “Not Waffles,” he moans. Cracking open one eyelid, as if afraid of what I’ll say, he asks hesitantly, “How much did he tell you?”
