Page 52 of Forgettable in Every Way

Simon barked out a laugh. “You are cheeky. But yes, she mentioned her male lead character was sexy like me.”

“I see we are still full of ourselves,” I teased him.

“Darling, would you expect anything less?”

“I suppose not.” Honestly, I had always found the way he appreciated himself endearing. He was never piggish about it, nor made anyone feel less. If anything, the high opinion he had of himself helped him lift others up.

Simon pushed Winston out of the way, which was no easy feat. The tubby dog was quite cozy next to Jack. Things got cozier, though, when Simon scooted more toward me and his son. Then things went from cozy to intimate real quick when our faces were inches apart, breathing the same air. Simon revved up the intimacy a notch when he reached across Jack and rested his hand on my bare thigh.

“This is much better,” he claimed. “Now it’s my turn to ask you some questions.”

“What do you want to know?” I breathed out, hardly able to contain all the happy flutterings rushing through my body.

“Everything,” he warbled. “But for now, I need to know how you like to be kissed.”

Cinderella broke out in an aria of “So This Is Love.” So much so, I almost started humming it out loud. I reached up and skimmed Simon’s stubbled cheek, just to make sure he was real, and that this was happening. “No one has ever asked me that before.” Every kiss I’d ever had seemed to be more about the man than me, but I had a feeling this time was going to be different.

“What a shame.” Simon inched closer, his eyes zeroing in on my lips. The anticipation was swelling between us like a tidal pool of raw emotion. “So, tell me, Jules,” he whispered my name, “how do you like to be kissed?”

At that moment, I knew exactly how I wanted to be kissed. “Like I’m unforgettable.”

“Done,” he murmured before his lips barely brushed over mine.

A zing so strong went through me, making my breath hitch. I no longer had to wonder what Simon’s kiss felt like. It felt like the sunrise, serene but full of wonder and possibilities.

Simon wasn’t finished. His hand gripped my thigh tightly, like he needed to hold on, before his lips crashed against mine. He nibbled and tugged before his tongue danced into my mouth, where he took his time getting to know every inch as he went.

I tried my best to memorize everything about the kiss, from the way he tasted like chocolate and raspberries to how his tongue twisted perfectly with mine. But mostly, how he made me feel like he didn’t want to forget this moment.

His hand glided up my thigh and across the length of my body until it tangled in my hair. When his lips left mine, he rested his forehead against my own. His uneven breaths blew across my skin. “That was unforgettable. Thank you, Jules.”

“You’re welcome.” I couldn’t help but giggle. “No one has ever thanked me for a kiss.” Nor had anyone ever kissed me so well.

“They’re fools. I was a fool. I had no idea what I was missing out on.”

Jack began to stir between us.

Simon leaned away. “I probably should have waited to kiss you until we were alone, but seeing you hold my son and that smile of yours got to me. What I meant to say was, you get to me, Jules.”

The feeling was mutual. Very mutual.

Jules

THE NEXT MORNING, I SASHAYED into the kitchen humming “So This Is Love,” doing such a good impression of Cinderella that I half expected some dressed-up mice to appear and ask me how my night at the ball with the prince had been. The answer was, it was wonderful. There was no dancing involved, but after our time on the island, we’d gone back to Simon’s place and made homemade pasta together for dinner. Then we’d watched a movie with Jack snuggled between us. After Jack went to bed, it was just Simon, me, and a bottle of wine out on the deck, looking at the stars and talking. And kissing. Lots of kissing. It was as if we were making up for lost time. I had the feeling friends really do make the best lovers. Knowing each other already on such a deep level heightened every touch and kiss. It also added a comfort I’d never experienced in intimate situations.

“You’re a late riser this morning,” Mom’s voice startled me.

I looked up to see her at the kitchen table in a tennis dress, sipping coffee. It looked like she would hurrah with friends again today. It was a little disappointing. I’d hoped she and Dad would spend the day together after talking yesterday. Which made me wonder ... “Did you and Dad have a good talk?”

She set down her mug and pressed her lips together as if she didn’t want to say.

I clenched my fists, waiting for her to give me the bad news.

Instead, she asked, “How was your day with Simon and Jack?”

I didn’t want to say, since obviously her day was nowhere near as good as mine had been.

When I hemmed and hawed about answering, Mom’s face paled. “Please, Julia, I would really like to hear about your day. I know I haven’t been the best mother, but I would like to change that.”

---