Page 67 of Everlasting Promises

My heart fractures.

Sending blood and tissue exploding all over my chest cavity.

I can’t do it.

I can’t kiss another man while I think of my husband.

When I open my eyes to beg him to stop, he’s moved back a little. Smiling gently, he rubs his thumb over my lips and removes his hand from my throat. My breaths stall at his expression. Compassion and understanding fill my vision, making the backs of my eyes sting and my nose burn.

Needing to apologize, I open my mouth, but Ben shakes his head, and presses his finger against my lips. “Don’t apologize to me, Hope.” He gently presses a kiss to my forehead for several seconds, then pulls away, sending a riot of butterflies through my stomach. “Thanks for coming out tonight. I had a great time.” He takes a step back and another and another until it feels like there’s an ocean between us. “C’mon, Rex.” He pats his thigh and Rex obediently moves to his side and they both head to his truck.

I watch them climb in and Ben start the engine. There’s no way I can let him go like that, so I leap down the porch steps. “Ben!”

He winds down his window, confusion creasing his forehead. My mind and emotions are such a jumble. I don’t know what to say, so I lean in the window to kiss his cheek. He turns his face at the same time, and our mouths connect for a moment, like it’s happening in slow motion.

The most surprising thing isn’t that my lips are pressed to his—or how soft they are—it’s that I haven’t pulled away.

Instead, I open my mouth slightly and press my lips against his bottom one, then repeat the action with the top pillow. Theshort bristles around his mouth are rough, but his lips are so very soft, inviting me to kiss them some more.

Ben doesn’t move, allowing me to explore his mouth without pressure. When I deepen the kiss, a groan vibrates against my mouth, and his hand slides into my hair, holding me to him gently. I know I can move away if I want to, but I don’t.

Emotion clogs my throat, and my heart stutters at the feel of a man’s lips against mine.

OfBen’slips against mine.

Stinging burns the backs of my eyes, my heart flips, and my bottom lip quivers, but I keep tasting. I push through the ache that’s almost breaking me in two—that threatens to tear me apart from the inside out.

Ben draws back a fraction. “It’s okay, Hope,” he murmurs, his lips touching mine with each word as he reaches up to stroke my cheek. Wetness spreads at his touch and I didn’t realize my emotions had overflowed.

I drop my forehead to his, exchanging my breath for his, trying to combat the grief overwhelming me.

Grief for what I’ve lost.

Grief for what I’ve denied myself for too long.

Grief for the deprivation of male affection for too many years to count.

The pain is almost too much to bear.

His hands cup either side of my face, and he softly kisses each damp cheek as I take in a shuddering breath. “Baby steps. Okay?” He looks at me with reassurance. “I’ll wait as long as it takes, Cookie.” He completes his promise with a kiss on my forehead, and I nod against him.

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” I murmur on a shaky exhale.

He chuckles quietly, his warm breath coasting across my face. “You’re the most beautiful mess I’ve ever seen.”

I grin, and shake my head a little. “You’re too good to me.”

“Nah. I haven’t started being good to you yet.” He turns off his engine, nudges me back a little and climbs out of his car. “Let me hold you for a minute.”

I eagerly step into his open arms, and he wraps them around me, engulfing me and cocooning me in his warmth, his strength, his compassion. Melding my body to his, I draw his scent deep into my lungs and relax into him.

A kiss is pressed against the top of my head, and I sigh at this overwhelming feeling of contentment filling me. It’s not like I haven’t received hugs since losing Wyatt, but this one … it’s different … and so very welcome.

I’ve missed this contact … desperately.

Ben’s hand strokes my hair, while his other arm snugly holds me to him. His heart beats sure and strong beneath my cheek, and I curl my fingers into the woolen fabric beneath my hands, securing him to me. Closing my eyes, I soak in his vitality and appreciate this moment where my thoughts are finally quiet—and the guilt for being wrapped up in another man’s arms isn’t quite as loud as it was before.

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