Page 24 of Everything We Left Unsaid

“You don’t have to do that.” My words come out quietly, shy almost.

“It’s no problem. It’s only a few dishes,” he offers. “I wash, you dry?”

“Sure.” I shrug in acceptance.

As we work side by side, cleaning up from our shared meal, I’m reminded of how well we once worked together. Remembering the meal we cooked together a lifetime ago warms my heart and face as a blush settles over my cheeks. That night, his hands caressed every curve of my body as his lips skimmed my neck, his warm voice praising the parts of me I’d always felt self-conscious about. I never looked at my flaws the same way after that.

Disney music begins to play from the next room just as Jacob hands me the last of the dishes to dry. “Movie’s on,” he announces, the first words we’ve spoken since starting on the dishes.

“Don’t wanna miss that,” I offer playfully. We’ve seen this one at least a dozen times. I could recite the opening lines from memory, but Chloe loves it and I wonder if he had help picking it out or decided on his own.

When we enter the living room, my grandmother slips off down the hall, retiring to her room for the night. I settle onto the couch next to Chloe and Jacob takes the empty cushion on her other side. She grabs each of our legs and shimmies her little bottom back until she’s pressed against the back of the couch, her feet barely grazing the edge. She stays like this, wedged between her father and me until her eyes start to flutter closed, her lids heavy with sleep. She’s out before Elsa ever sics her malevolent ice monster on Anna and Kristoff.

“I’d better put her to bed,” I offer, slipping off the couch with her cradled in my arms. Jacob leans in and presses his lips to her forehead, and my breath hitches at the sight of his affection for her.

“Goodnight, baby girl,” he whispers into her hair, none the wiser to how his sweet gestures toward our daughter are both breaking my heart and mending it back together.

I slink down the hallway with my heart in my throat and lay her gently in her crib with a parting kiss against her temple. I know I should move Chloe to her own room that contains her unused toddler bed soon, but I’m just not ready for my baby to grow up yet.

Jacob is sliding a new DVD into the player when I return to the living room. I’m exhausted and not sure I’m willing to stay up for a movie, but I’m also in desperate need of some leisure time and to do something that doesn’t involve cartoons.

“What did you get for us to watch?”

“You know, you once compared me to Christian Grey, and at the time I didn’t know who that was,” he offers with a sly smile. He lifts the remote, pointing it toward the screen, his smirk a warning of what’s to come. “I finally figured it out,” he adds, pressing the play button.

The crack of a masculine hand against a soft, feminine behind makes me jump. Jacob’s deep chuckle reverberates in my chest and I blush. The overtly sexual scenes have had my pulse racing and my breath accelerating for the last hour or more. Somehow we’ve moved closer to each other, the space Chloe vacated eaten up by our bodies. He’s close enough I can feel the heat of his skin, although we’re not touching.

“I had no idea this was the kind of thing you were into,” he teases, his grin spreading as my face grows hot. I reach for the throw pillow beside me and bring it around, smacking him in the chest with a dull thud.

“I’m not, you jerk!” I proclaim adamantly, an embarrassed smile playing on my lips.

“Whatever. How else would you know who he is and what he’s all about? You probably even read the books, didn’t you?” My face flames with guilt, my admission written across my cheeks. “Oh my God, you did!” he exclaims and throws his head back, his deep rumble of laughter filling the tiny space between us.

“It’s okay, baby, your secret’s safe with me,” he assures me with a wink. His smirky look and teasing tone do something funny to my insides and I suddenly have to force air into my lungs. His eyes fall to my chest as it rises, my deep breath lifting my breasts. His gaze returns to mine a split second before his mouth crashes against my lips and his hand tangles in my hair. The unexpected move catches me off guard and my eyes widen in surprise, but soon close as my body melts into his with a familiar longing.

My stomach tightens when I feel his other hand on my knee. It inches up my leg, higher and higher, curving toward the outside of my thigh. Gripping my hamstring, he pulls me into his lap and I gasp in surprise. His kiss swallows the sound, his tongue dancing with mine as we relearn each other’s rhythm. I dig my teeth gently into his bottom lip and his resulting growl causes my core to tighten, my thighs inadvertently squeezing his hips.

His mouth abandons mine to trail soft kisses against my jaw and down to my shoulder. “Abby,” he whispers into my neck, his breath tickling my sensitive flesh as he works his way back up. His hands skate up my sides, lifting my shirt as they go. Warm, soft lips plunder my mouth as his fingers graze the undersides of my breasts. It’s been a long time since he touched me. So, so long. And hard. Really freaking hard. I moan against his lips as his arousal presses into me.

We shouldn’t be doing this. It’s a bad idea, but I can’t seem to make myself stop. There are so many questions left unanswered, so much I don’t know about what happened between us. I shouldn’t let him touch me like this. I shouldn’t let him kiss me like no time has passed and my heart was never broken.

Those thoughts are eradicated when he places his palm against the small of my back and presses, pushing my body harder against his. I arch my back, my breasts rubbing against his chest and sending a lightning bolt of arousal between my legs. He rolls his hips, digging his erection into my body, begging for release. I groan against his mouth, unable to control the needy, feral sounds emitting from between my lips.

“Abby,” he moans against my lips, but it sounds like a whisper in my ear.

“Abby?” he repeats, a little louder this time. “Are you hurt?”

What? Why would he ask me that at a time like this?

“Abby.”

My eyes snap open. Jacob’s hands are no longer on my breasts, but instead, gently grip my shoulders. Christian and Anna aren’t in their playroom anymore and the credits are rolling.

I push myself into a sitting position and glance around. The sun has set and the only light in the room is coming from the TV. I rub my eyes, disoriented from the rush of blood to places other than my brain.

“What’s going on?” I ask dumbly.

“You were groaning in your sleep and your face was scrunched up like you were in pain.” Oh, dear God. I was dreaming about him. I must’ve fallen asleep during the movie and the super steamy content caused me to have a sexy dream about him.

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