Page 32 of Single All the Way

For the dozenth time, I shut down the thought that the kiss had also, in other ways, felt very right. That was me being all kinds of wrong.

“We’re okay then?” I asked.

She nodded. “We’re okay.”

I breathed a little easier, still making a point of keeping my gaze on her face, not letting it drop to where cotton met cleavage. Hoping to lighten the moment, I said without thinking, “But you at least liked it a little bit, right?”

She laughed. “Oh, my God, really?”

“Save a guy’s ego. I’m fragile.” I was full-on teasing, trying to bring us back from the awkwardness even as I flirted with making it worse.

Emerson shook her head and scoffed, but there was still a smile on her face. In a quiet voice, so there was no way the kids could overhear from downstairs, she said, “You’re good at kissing. Just don’t let it happen again.”

I laughed, relieved. “Deal.”

Inside, I was a little too pleased with the compliment.

“Get dressed and join us,” I said. “An amazing breakfast fairy cooked us a hell of a meal to start the day.”

“Breakfast fairies are the best,” she said. “I’ll be down in a few.”

As she walked toward her room, I lost the battle to keep my gaze in check and drank in the sight of her long, bare legs from behind, noting the towel hung just barely low enough to hide her ass from my prying eyes.

Proof positive that I was a fucking idiot and a glutton for punishment.

Emerson

I’m fine. This is fine. Everything is fine.

As soon as I closed my bedroom door, I leaned my back against it, still holding my towel in place.

If you were to measure my heart rate, you’d find out I wasn’t quite fine.

After a deep breath to try to level myself out, I stepped away from the door and hurriedly dressed.

Ben had so totally called it right. Ihadbeen avoiding him. Normally I showered first thing and got ready, then cooked. Today I’d cooked first then retreated upstairs before he could finish chores.

My head was a messy place after last night.

When Ben had kissed me, it had just…happened. It’d felt almost like an extension of our friendship. Almost. But then it’d awakened something inside me that’d been dead for years: desire. I hadn’t felt a twinge of it since Blake died. As a grieving single mom, I didn’t have energy for more than getting through the day. It was like my hormones had died with my husband.

Except now I knew they hadn’t.

Something about being in Ben’s arms had made me feel my femininity again. His kiss had affirmed that I was still desirable and still had working woman parts that might eventually want some attention. Though I hadn’t missed any of that, hadn’t let myself miss it, I couldn’t deny it was reassuring to know it might be a possibility.

Maybe someday I’d want sex again. Maybe there’d be room in my life for a casual fling. Eventually.

It wouldn’t be with Ben, because we were too good of friends. It wouldn’t be a serious thing, because I’d promised myself I’d never go there again. But maybe someday, when my life was more stable and my kids were more secure and everything lined up, I’d let myself cut loose and get my “lady needs” met.

For the time being, my life was anything but stable. At least one of my kids was struggling big-time, and I needed to focus on getting us all through the next couple of months unscathed.

ChapterTen

Emerson

By the time our last client left Friday, my stylists and I were exhausted but in good spirits. We hadn’t had a single no-show all day, all of us with our chairs filled with a nonstop stream of customers, most of them regulars, getting prepped for the holiday season, sharing Thanksgiving stories, and tipping generously.

“That was a heck of a day,” Gustie said as she switched the sign from open to closed. She was seventy-six years old, a dear woman who’d been doing hair for longer than I’d been alive. She swore she’d work till the day she keeled over, not for the money but for the socializing.

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