Page 72 of That Reunited Feeling

He wraps his other hand around mine and squeezes. “Just three nights. Dylan will be at school all day. And Maggie and Jim will look out for him the rest of the time. You know they keep telling you to work less. And you know they adore him. And he’s not a baby anymore. He’s thirteen. It’s not like he can’t make himself a sandwich.”

I drop my gaze to the console between us. The barrier between us. It’s not as wide as the ocean, but it might as well be.

“He got put in detention the other day. The teacher said he was being disruptive in class. She thinks it’s due to the ‘recent upset’ at home.” I meet Tom’s eyes, which catch just a fragment of moonlight. “She says he needs consistency. So, I should stay.”

“He’d be fine.” Tom squeezes my hand tighter. “And your résumé would look even better if you’d traveled to London as my assistant and done some work there.” His mouth turns up at one corner as he raises an eyebrow.

How can one person, a person I’ve loved, despised, and then done my best to put out of my mind, have such a goddamn effect on every part of my being—calm my anger, raise my passion, swell my heart, and crumble my will?

“Oh, fuck, Tom.” I drop my head back against the headrest. “Why can’t I resist you? I spent so long trying to hate you. Then the second you reappear I’m blowing you in the back seat of your brother’s car and contemplating abandoning my kid to run off to London with you.”

“Well, notthe secondI reappeared.” He chuckles. “We did make chocolate penises first.”

As hard as I try, I can’t stop the giggle. I take my hand back and push him away. “And fuck you for making me laugh.” Hisface breaks into a smile. “And for giving me the most incredible orgasm.” I shove him with both hands this time. “And for being so hot. And for so irritatingly having an answer for everything.”

He rocks back toward me and takes both my hands, lifts them to his lips, and looks at me over them. “The most incredible orgasm, huh?”

“Yes.” Despite myself, I’m a puddle again. A melted, gooey mess that only Tom Dashwood is capable of turning me into.

“So, will you come to London?” His breath warms my fingers.

I sigh, my body limp, the fight gone. I want to. Christ, I want to. It’s wrong. And I know it’ll hurt me in the end. But, shit, I want to.

“More than anything, I need Dylan to be safe and well and happy. I am not doing anything that would jeopardize anything for him. So we need to talk to Maggie first. Then to him.”

Tom drops my hands, cups my face, and gently lifts my lips to meet his. And he holds me there, not moving, just our lips together. A perfect fit, the woodsy scent of his skin now tinged with sex sweat and the aroma of my arousal, the touch of his mouth filling my senses.

When he pulls back, he tips his forehead against mine and strokes my cheek. “I’ll talk to Mags. You talk to Dylan. And you and I will talk about it again in the morning.”

My final drop of willpower evaporates. Maybe this whole Bridge Person thing could work after all. Maybe the London plan will go exactly as he says. And maybe he will restore my faith in men so I can move on and find my forever person when we get to LA.

“Okay.”

“And now.” He kisses my forehead. “I’m going to tell you that you are amazing.” The tip of my nose. “And beautiful.” My lips. “And take you home to your son.”

“He’s a treasure. You both sleep tight now,” Maggie says, as she waves and turns away from the front door of our guest suite to head back toward the main house.

She’d been here getting Dylan to go to bed.

But he’s obviously not asleep yet because there’s a glow under his door. I nudge it open and stick my head around to find him sitting propped up with his pillows, lights from a video on his tablet flashing across his face. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing much.”

“Can I see?”

He shrugs, which isn’t a no. And that’s the best I can hope for a lot of the time these days.

I sit on the edge of his bed. “Too old for a snuggle?”

Another shrug. Again, not a no.

I swing up my legs and wrap my arm around his shoulders. “Ah. Guitar tutorials.”

“Yeah, this guy’s good. He explains it the same way Tom explained it to me.”

Right, there’s my way in. “Tom might not be able to give you lessons for the next few days. He has to go back to London for a work thing.”

Dylan’s face snaps to mine, his eyes wide, mouth open. Is that what I looked like when Tom told me?

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