Page 47 of Unexpected Temptation

“MaybeI’muncomfortable with this conversation.”

He sighs. It’s like he’s trying to push something down. He’s already shared too much, but it feels much more natural than it should. Maybe it was a messed-up blessing when Mom mistook him for Dad, but this is different.

“It’s for her safety, too,” he goes on. “You know it. Your nurses must’ve mentioned it. Soon, there won’t be a choice.”

I hug my knees to my chest, sitting back in the oversized chair, looking out at the garden and trying to see the chaos Tristan described. Maybe it will make all this darkness feel somehow more manageable.

“You think I don’t know that?” I whisper.

“I know you do,” he says. “I know it’s painful.”

“After Dad left, it was just us. We were like a team. She was more like my older sister than my mom. Sure, I had to grow up fast, but that’s life.”

His eyebrow goes up.

“What?” I say. “You don’t think I’m grown up?”

His smile twitches. “I’ve never been any good with ages.”

“Ha, me neither.”

“But you’re capable. You’re fierce. You’re a good person.”

He reaches over and puts his hand on my knee. It seems innocent at first, almost like a friend offering comfort. When I feel his warmth, I can’t help it. I make a noise and put my hand over his. All his strength is trickling down my leg, making me ache.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“I’m just saying the truth.”

“Still, you didn’thaveto say it. Thank you.”

He tightens his grip on my knee. Then I can’t take it anymore. At the same moment, he’s hit with the same feeling. He leans over, bringing his lips to mine. I move at the same time. We meet in the middle, half-leaning out of our chairs.

We don’t care that the neighbors might see. We don’t care how complicated this is. We keep kissing like our mouths are fused. He groans and strokes his hand through my hair, gripping my back and pulling me to a standing position. He does the same. He pulls me into his arms.

At the last second, before it’s too late and my body is too achy to stop, I put my hand on his chest. “Not here,” I whisper.

“It’s fine,” he says gruffly.

“It’s not that …” My cheeks heat up again. “It’s just, well, I’ve never done this before.”

I stare down at the ground. I hope he can read what I mean. I hope this closeness isn’t completely one-sided.

CHAPTER TWENTY

TRISTAN

She stands less than a foot from me, close enough for me to feel her heat. Her cheeks have turned that gorgeous shade of red.

“Dated?” I ask.

She glances at me sharply. “It’s not a big deal. It shouldn’t be, I guess. Anyway.” She tightens her fists, but when I try to touch her again, she moves away. It’s not like she doesn’t want my touch. It’s more like she’s experiencing what I am.

If we touch, we won’t be able to stop.

“Growing up, I was always the shy girl who preferred losing herself in books to dealing with real people. Books were my escape, my safe place. I went through phases of reading different genres, but right before Mom got sick, romances were my favorite.”

She gives me one of those tempting looks again. This time, when she goes on, she keeps looking at me. Just like when I told her about the home and all that hell and how quiet she was for me, I sense she wants the same.

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