Page 56 of The Only Goal

Placing my hand on his chest, I feel his heart thrumming beneath my touch.

A heart that belongs to me?

A heart that’s always been mine?

My insides melt with warmth and affection, then start to simmer and heat the same way they did that afternoon at the swimming hole.

The difference is that I know what I’m doing now.

This isn’t curiosity anymore. It’s something stronger, bigger, more powerful.

More meaningful.

A soft breath wisps out between my lips as I lurch to the tips of my toes and, for the second time in my life… initiate a kiss that will change everything.

I’m so here for it.

This time I’m in. All the way.

The complicated shit in my life can disappear for a second.

I’m not afraid anymore.

Curling my fingers around the back of his neck, I pull Baxter down to meet me.

“Wait, wait, wait…” He jerks back before our lips can connect.

No! My insides wail, and I keep my hand on his neck, not willing to let go and lose this moment.

“You’re married,” he rasps. “Tammy, I can’t go kissing you.”

“I’m not.” I shake my head, holding up my bare ring finger.

He frowns down at me in confusion, and I swear I see hope lighting his eyes when he takes my finger and rubs his thumb over the spot where my rings usually are. It still feels weird not wearing them all the time, but his soft touch is easing that tension.

My stomach trembles, my lips shaking as I admit, “I mean, technically, I still am, but that’s only because I haven’t figured out how to make it all official yet, but… I’m planning on asking Hudson for a divorce.”

“Really?” His whisper is so soft, that hope like a sunrise dawning across his face. “You’re leaving him for good?”

I nod, a tentative smile curling my lips, my voice barely more than a whisper. “I want to be yours.”

And to prove it, I lurch for his mouth again.

There’s no resistance this time, and his lips crush to mine like he’s breaking a hunger strike.

The pressure is perfect—deep and beautiful.

We hold still against each other like we’re soaking this in, like if we pull apart, the magic will shatter.

But then he eases back from me, his lips parting, his breath skimming my mouth before he glides his tongue against mine.

I meet him halfway, my soul releasing a satisfied sigh. This kiss is warm and inviting, hot and intoxicating.

Straining up on my toes, I cling to him, wanting to get closer. His hands grip my waist, fisting my sweater and tugging me until I’m fused against him.

My breasts rub his torso, the nipples hardening immediately. The intensity of my desire is overwhelming, and I can’t hold back a soft moan, dragging my fingers through his hair as our tongues dance like they were born to tango.

Baxter splays his hand against my back, molding us together, then bends his knees, coming down to my level before lifting me off the ground and planting me on the kitchen counter.

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