Page 119 of Yours and Mine (Friends with Benefits)

“She would never be happy with you, and you know it. No matter what may have happened between you two, she loves me. She always has and always will.”

“Ha!” Carter laughed and motioned me closer when he saw me. “Come on, Jo! Tell him. Who’s the first boy you ever kissed?”

Oh, my God! This wasn’t really happening to me, was it? Why were they arguing now? And what kind of a question was that? They were both my firsts. Carter was afirstfirst, but Nick was my first adult kiss. How was I supposed to explain to them that each one meant something different to me? Wait, why was I supposed to explain anything?

“Jo?” Nick asked, confusion shadowing his face.

“You can see it in her eyes, can’t you? She could have moved on without you, and you know it.”

“Stop it! Just stop it both of you!” I cried out, then pointed back to the car. “There’s a little girl in that car who’s hoping to have a nice dinner with her uncle and her father this weekend, and I swear that if you two can’t behave like adults, there will be no dinner for anyone. Do. You. Understand?”

They each nodded.

“Shit happens in life. It doesn’t matter who I kissed first, second, or third.” Although there’d never been a third. “What matters is that we can figure out this second chance we’ve been given in a calm manner that does not scare the living crap out of me or Mackenzie.”

“I’m sorry, Cupcake.” Carter lowered his head. “I’m just afraid that he’ll leave again. I don’t want you hurting. I want you happy.”

“And I love you for the way you’ve always cared for us both. I always will, Carter, but no matter what Nick’s plans are for the future, I cannot deny Mackenzie her father.” I took his hand into mine. “We’ll figure it out. If there’s anyone I can do this with, it’s you.”

Nick shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another, doubt filling his eyes. I didn’t have the time or nerve to explain the inner workings of mine and Carter’s relationship at this moment, and I felt bad for allowing him to think that we were together, but I saw Mackenzie approach from behind the hill.

That conversation will have to wait.

“We’ll see you on Sunday?” I asked.

“Yes, I’ll be there.”

“Good.”

As I headed toward Mackenzie and saw her wave at Nick, calling out, “Bye, Daddy,” my heart skipped a beat. If there was anyone who had the right idea about reuniting, it was my little girl.

Chapter 28

Saturday afternoonI knocked on the wooden door to Nick’s barn, thinking that I should stop referring to his house as a ‘barn’ in my head. It had been two days since I’d last seen him at the beach, and Mackenzie wouldn’t stop talking about him. When she found out where he lived, she kept peeking into the back yard behind her grandparents’ house. In fact, she packed a little suitcase with some of her clothes so that she could one day have a sleepover at Daddy’s house. For me, the past two nights had been restless. I tossed and turned. My mind wandered through all the times we’d spent together. And once I was done with those, my imagination spiraled into new possibilities. My body ached for him. I craved his touch, wondering whether he’d be as gentle as he was five years ago, or maybe a little rougher. A much more intimate reunion with Nick was definitely at the forefront of my thoughts all night and all day.

Standing on the glassed in front porch, I secretly knew exactly why I came here. It was the hormones. The stupid twirling in my stomach that wouldn’t stop combined with my drenched panties that I had to throw into the laundry each morning. It was the way Nick had looked at me by the general store and when I first saw him last week. That sinful new body of his drew me in as I wondered whether his skin would feel the same underneath my palms. He still made my heart go pitter-patter, forcing me to tense in the most delectable ways. My nerves trembled through my limbs as I shifted from one foot to another, wondering whether it was stupid of me to wear a matching set of undergarments. What was I thinking?

I wasn’t. Today, my body was doing the thinking for me, fighting to claim what it had been denied for five long years. It didn’t matter how many times I told myself that I had to take it slow. My hormones let out a mocking laugh and pushed my feet forward until I ended up here.

He opened the front door. Dressed in ripped jeans and a washed-out shirt, so unlike the Nick I knew, he leaned against the doorframe with a crooked smile on his face. The confidence in his eyes shook me awake and twirled a new wave of need through my body. Was he expecting me? There was no surprise on his face, only a spark of desire in his eyes, mixed with the look of a man who’d just gotten what he wanted.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi, I—”

“I know I should have called first, but I don’t even have your phone number.”

“Jo, my home is your home. Always. Come in, please.” He stepped to the side, opening the door further. I brushed past him, my arm inadvertently grazing against his, and the most pleasant chills swept through my body. A flicker of impatience sparked in my chest because all my body wanted was to press against him. All I needed was to be in his arms. I wanted him to remind me what it felt like to be held, cared for, and loved.

The delicious aroma of a home-cooked meal filled the room. I looked around the pristine home, immediately welcomed by its warmth.

“I brought something.” I passed him the box of letters I’d written over the past three years, and never sent, the compilation of my grief, heartache, Mackenzie’s milestones, and wishes for his return that I’d made on the falling stars. The ones I’d never sent because I thought he was dead. “I thought you might want to read some of these before you come over tomorrow.”

Caught off guard, he reached for the box and opened the lid. “Letters?”

What? Was he actually waiting for me to do the spread eagle for him as soon as I walked in? Yeah, it appeared that I wasn’t the only one expecting more than a spark of excitement from my visit. Instead of that spark, I’d entered into an inferno of lust and desire the moment I stepped over that threshold. A bead of sweat dripped down my back.

“I wrote them after they told me you died. I didn’t want to believe it. They kept me somewhat sane.”

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