Page 14 of Someone You Deserve

Of course I’m sad. I lost my husband. But the truth is, I lost him long before he ever left this world.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to come home. We were supposed to go through with the divorce and co-parent. He still would have been here for soccer games and dance recitals. He still would have seen them on Christmas and their birthdays.

Selfishly, I was looking forward to the time for myself, the ability to focus on my dreams and aspirations without him mocking me about itand me having to listen to him. I had planned trips I wanted to take by myself, work I would have time to do on my thoughts, and just finally having space to breathe.

Our relationship may have been over, but his relationship with his kids was still supposed to survive. In fact, I was hoping it would get stronger since his limited time with them would be even more precious.

But we never got the chance to make that work.

“I’ll be there for them, Astrid. I promise.” Penn grabs my hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it. It may just be the tequila, but his touch and the softness of his lips warm my entire body from head to toe, the strongest heat pooling between my legs.

That’s been happening more lately—each time we touch, each time he hugs me or holds me while I cry—my body has the most visceral reaction to it.

The night that he came over and cooked us dinner and forced me to take an hour-long bath after I’d had a horrible week was the night I started to see him differently—and I think it was because he showed up formeand took care ofmein a way that no one else ever had.

“I know you will,” I whisper.

“And I’ll be there for you too.” He kisses my hand again, and then places another one on my wrist. “Whatever you need.”

My body instinctively starts to lean forward. “You already have been.” He shakes his head, pulling me into his chest and wrapping his arm around me now. I feel safe, protected, and dare I say…treasured. “I wouldn’t have survived the last year without you, Penn.”

“Yes, you would have because you’re incredible, Astrid. Strong, resilient, and brave. But I’m glad I could be here for you and the kids. It makes me feel like I’m at least doingsomethingwhen honestly, I justfeel fucking helpless. I can’t take away your pain. I can’t bring him back…”

Breathing him in, I clutch his flannel and bury my face in his neck. He smells of sandalwood and pine, with a hint of sweat that only enhances his natural scent. He smells like a man, and my body is aching for more.

But it’s Penn. I can’t go there. It’s wrong—so very wrong.

But god, I bet it would feel so right.

It’s just the alcohol talking, Astrid. Tequila makes people want to take their clothes off, remember? There’s even a song that says so.

I lift my head so our eyes can meet. “You’ve done more than I can ever thank you for.” Brushing his hair from his face, I swear I hear him take in a sharp breath of air, and then his grip on my waist tightens. “When the roof had that leak, you fixed it the next day. When the air went low on my tires, you took them to the garage to fill them up. On the days when I left Catch & Release utterly exhausted, you brought pizza for dinner and entertained the kids because you knew I just didn’t have the energy to do so.” My eyes dip down to his lips. “You’ve done more for me than anyone ever has.”

I watch his gaze drop to my mouth now just as his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. “I wanted to. Ihadto. I couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone, or feeling like you have to do this on your own.”

“I’m never alone when you’re here.”

“Astrid,” he whispers, his eyes bouncing between my mouth and my eyes. “Do you ever feel…” He pauses. “Do you ever think about…”

“What?” I breathe out, my heart hammering wildly.

Penn reaches up and strokes the side of my face, a pinch in his brow hinting at the battle he’s fighting in his mind.

I can feel his breath on my lips, smell the tequila on both of us, and feel the effects of it all over my body.

But then I concentrate on the way his finger traces my skin, the flecks of gold in his otherwise brown eyes, and the stubble that dusts his jaw so perfectly.

Penn is rugged but still put together. He’s handsome but doesn’t flaunt it. He’s noble and loyal and so utterly dependable that you’d think he could be a superhero in another life. But he also has an edge to him, a thin line of control that I have a feeling could snap under the right pressure.

“Feel what?” I practically moan as his head dips closer to mine.

“This.” He takes my hand and places it over his heart where I feel the organ in his chest thrash against his sternum. “Does yours do this too when we’re around each other?”

I pause for a moment, debating how honest I should be with him. But the alcohol decides for me. “Yes.”

Time stands still as we stare at one another, and then before I can say a word, Penn mutters, “Fuck it,” and his lips crash into mine.

An inferno rages through my body the second our lips touch. I push myself into his chest and straddle his hips, burying my hands in his hair. Penn frames my jaw in his hands and tilts my head to the side, swiping his tongue across my lips to make me open up for him. And as soon as our tongues tangle, I let out an embarrassing moan.

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