She’d come with a hoarse cry, her thighs tightening around his head, her legs shaking so hard, he’d had to wrap one arm around her waist so she didn’t topple them both to the ground.

The moment she’d stopped shaking, the instant her breathing had returned to normal, her body loose and lax against his, he’d wanted to do it all over again.

He might have if she hadn’t looked at the clock on the microwave, squeaked, then bolted from the room, her perfect bare ass peeking out from underneath her shirt.

While she got ready, he’d used the hand soap at the sink to wash her scent from his whiskers. Helped himself to a glass of iced tea, erasing her taste from his tongue. Only to have her walk back into the kitchen wearing that green sundress, her hair pulled back in a smooth ponytail, her cheeks still flushed from her orgasms, her eyes sparkling.

She’d looked pretty and fresh. Recently satisfied and completely fuckable.

She’d looked like his.

And he’d wanted, more than his next breath, to lift her skirt and shove his face between her thighs again. Wanted her scent back on him, clinging to his skin. Wanted her taste lingering on his tongue once again.

Had wanted to claim her. To make her his.

There was something between them. Something that had nothing to do with what they’d done or who they’d been.

And everything to do with who they were now.

Ten years ago, he’d had his life mapped out. His route carefully devised to take him where he wanted to go.

Now, all he knew was what he was going to do next.

And that was sit in his car until Tabitha came out of the store with the bottle of wine she’d insisted she needed to buy because she didn’t want to show up empty-handed for dinner.

His phone buzzed with a text notification. He picked it up and opened it.

Urban: You close? Toby’s bitching about you being late.

Before Miles could answer, his phone buzzed again.

Toby: I’m not bitching. I’m saying we’re eating in five minutes whether he’s here or not.

Urban: That was meant for Miles.

Verity: Then don’t send it through to the family group text.

Miles: I’m going to be at least another ten minutes.

Toby: Too bad. We’re eating in five.

Urban: We can wait.

Toby: No we can’t.

Urban: We. Can. Wait.

Verity: Ugh. Do we have to? I’m starving. And I don’t think it’s fair to punish those of us who did show up on time because of the rude behavior of one late person.

Miles: You live there.

Verity: Yes, but I’m not here every second! I have a life, you know

Toby: Dinner. Is. In. Five.

Toby: You can eat leftovers.

Toby: If there are any.