Page 50 of Stolen Dreams

The first half hour is filled with endless commentary from Tucker. I don’t think anything of it, but wonder if it bothers Kaya. When I peek at her, she appears unfazed.

I do my best to focus on the movie, to keep my eyes forward, but fail miserably. Less than a foot separates us, her hands in her lap while I drape an arm over the back of the couch. I drink the last of my wine then set my glass next to hers on the table.

As I sit back, my arm on the back of the couch caresses her shoulders. My skin prickles as that delicious buzz returns. Like an incoming tide, it rolls up my arm again and again. I roll my eyes shut and revel in the current. Let it take over.

But it’s her sharp inhale that knocks me sideways.

That she feels this every time too… it seals my fate. Terrified as I am to pursue whatever this is with Kaya, I’d be an idiot to ignore it.

Tucker talks less over the movie. When a solid twenty minutes pass without commentary, I chance a look at him. Curled up with a pillow, jaw slack, his soft snores masked by the movie, Tucker is passed out.

I ease off the couch, take the bowl from his lap and set it on the table, then hoist Tucker into my arms. “Be right back.”

Kaya nods.

Up the stairs, I pad down the short hallway for Tucker’s room. Peel back the covers and lay him down. And as I tuck him in, he mutters something incoherent about missing the movie.

“We’ll watch it again, bud,” I whisper. “Go back to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” I kiss his forehead.

“Love you, Daddy.”

My heart melts. When he’s alert, Tucker calls me Dad. But it’s these sweet, sleepy moments I love most. The ones where he’s a touch more innocent. More the younger boy he didn’t get to be while with his mother. The times when he calls me Daddy.

“Love you, T-Man.”

As I back out of his room, he rolls onto his side and starts snoring again. I envy how easily he falls asleep now. After Brianna left him with me, he struggled to sleep for weeks. He never told me why, but I have a feeling it’s the colorful company Brianna keeps. Plus, I was a stranger to him.

Knowing he feels safe enough to be vulnerable now is the best gift.

When I reach the first floor, Kaya is carrying our glasses to the kitchen. I pivot and follow her. “You didn’t need to do that.”

She sets them in the sink then turns to face me. “I know, but I wanted to.”

The world stills as I shuffle closer to her. As I close the distance. Gazes locked, we soak up the sight of each other. Time passes in shaky, swift breaths and trembling hands. The longer we stay like this—inches apart and practically vibrating—the more I want to kiss her.

“Should head home,” she whispers without an ounce of conviction. “Early day for us both tomorrow.”

Against every greedy cell in my body, I take a step back. “Let me walk you out.”

A thick, pulsing cloud of repressed desire blankets us as we walk to the foyer, as she slips on her shoes and collects her bag, as we cross the driveway to her car. In step with her the entire way, my fingers twitch at my side, eager to touch her. To get another hit of that delicious buzz.

A beep bounces off the trees as she unlocks the car, followed by a soft click as she opens the door and sets her bag inside. Unable to bear another second without touching her, I step into her orbit. A gasp echoes in the night as she spins around, her breasts grazing my chest. Barely a breath exists between us as her eyes glitter in the moonlight.

“I want to kiss you,” I confess.

Lips parted, her chest rises and falls faster, her nipples hard beneath her top. Iridescent eyes on mine, her tongue peeks out and wets her lips.

“Can I kiss you, Kaya?”

Time stops until she gives the slightest nod.

“Need to hear you say it, Fire Eyes.” The nickname rolls off my tongue as if I’ve said it a thousand times and not just the once.

“Yes,” she answers a breath above a whisper, and it’s all I need to hear.

Pressing into her, I cup her cheeks and lower my mouth to hers. Soft, warm lips meet mine. So delicate. So perfect. My eyesroll shut as an inferno sweeps through me and annihilates the buzz from earlier. Somehow, I don’t lose control. Somehow, I suppress the moan begging for release.

I press a chaste kiss to her lips. Then another. And another.

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