Page 57 of Sins of Innocence

I've only been out a handful of times in the six years since Troy's death.

Before my husband, I had one boyfriend. We were thirteen and we never made it past holding hands. Which was way too innocent according to my best friend, Ellie, who had already done oral with her boyfriend.

But she had her family's apartment to herself after school until her mom got home around five-thirty. Her dad was out of the picture before we met, and bonded for life over a mutual abhorrence of lunchroom mashed potatoes in third grade.

She works in computers and dates. A lot. But if she's had sex with the same man more than twice, I don't know about it. She says she gets all the nurturing opportunities she needs being Aunt Ellie to my girls.

"I won't," Kieran says, sounding almost reasonable. And then he ruins it by adding, "Only the ones who have touched you."

And that's a red flag on the play. The kind that leads to lost yards and benched players.

So, why is my core clenching with a no longer dormant need for s-e-x? The wall-banging, scream inducing kind. Not a few quick pumps until he comes and then some fingering that almost never lasts long enough to get me off.

Okay. Yeah. My sex life with Troy was not great.

But I'd been in love and Ellie told me it got better, the more we practiced. Which it did. Kind of. I got pregnant. My hormones went into overdrive. I climaxed at least fifty percent of the time we made love for nine months.

Only after Neeve was born, my body settled and I rarely climaxed. I'm not sure I've ever had a full-on orgasm like you read about in books.

For me it was more like a pleasant sneeze, not the kind that makes you pee in your underwear.

"Um if you mean sex, he's already dead." I never craved emotional closeness with the few men I dated.

And until now, even my inner hussy wasn't all that interested in the physical pleasure that was more disappointment than not.

I bet Kieran won't disappoint you.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get the message. My ovaries are awake and they are determined to make up for years of unfulfilled sexual need.

"You didn't have sex with Dan?" Kieran asks, like I didn't just tell him I'd only ever had sex with Troy.

Obliquely sure. But it has to be obvious what I meant.

"No."

Suddenly, Kieran looks up from my phone, his gaze zeroing in on my ample chest.

Dropping my croissant, I cross my arms over my boobs. "My eyes are up here, buddy."

Kieran's look only intensifies. "Did he touch them."

"By them you mean—"

"Your gorgeous tits. Did he touch them?"

Wow, he must want an answer for Mr. Taciturn to bother repeating himself.

"How do you know they're gorgeous? I've breast fed three babies." They're not quite pendulums but not ripe melons with lush berries sticking out from their perfectly round centers either.

Troy had even suggested I have a breast lift done after I finished breastfeeding Joy. He wasn't around for her birth, much less when I weaned her to the bottle. Not all that interested in elective surgery for Troy's sake, I definitely wasn't having it when the only person who sees my boobs anymore is me.

"I want to see," Kieran says in a gravelly voice.

"You want to see my chest?" I squeak.

He's a practical stranger and that should not turn me on, right? The flush of heat that travels up my body says otherwise.

I want to lift my shirt and show him. But what if he doesn't think they're all that? What if he thinks I should perk them up with surgery?