Page 56 of Rim Job

Hundreds of flowers and candles decorate the book store, and standing in front of me, is Rimmington Banks.

I drop my purse and keys. The clanging sound my keys make is the only noise in the store besides the wild thumping of my heart.

What is this?

He looks as handsome as he ever has. Black shirt and gray slacks.

But his eyes, his eyes look tired, and his confident smile, that I'm so used to seeing, is nowhere in sight.

“Rim, what, what are you doing here? What is this?”

He takes a step toward me. “I think I've told you once before, wife.”

My heart pitter-patters at the nickname.

“Wooing you.”

Tears fill my eyes as he closes the distance between us.

“I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. What you thought you saw, wasn't what you think.”

I inhale a shaky breath as he reaches for my hands. His warm fingers grip mine, and he squeezes my hands gently.

“Isadora insisted we talk. Honestly, I felt I owed that closure to her. I made it clear to her, there was nothing there but we could remain friends.”

Over my dead body is that pit viper going to be your friend.

I tuck away that conversation for a later date. She's the least of my concerns right now.

“I told her we were done and that I was falling in love with my wife. She hugged me, and I thought she had accepted what I was saying, so I hugged her in return. The kiss, was not reciprocated. I wouldn't be with her even if you weren't in the picture, but my hope is that you are.”

A small sob escapes me.

He’s not lying.

I believe this is the truth. He has nothing to gain by deceiving me.

His fingers caress my jaw, reverently.

I look up into those sea blue eyes, and I'm a goner.

No more pretending. No more denying. I want everything he's offering me in this moment, and the moment after that, and the moment after that.

“Rim?” His name slides across my lips as a question, full of so many other unanswered ones.

I want that so badly.

More than anything.

I really do.

I want…more. I want…him. Just him.

“Christina,” he breaths. That familiar minty scent fluttering across my lips, and he pauses before his warm mouth moves against mine.

Fireworks.

But they’re dull in comparison to how electric his touch is as his hand gently grasps at the nape of my neck, holding me to him.

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