Page 69 of Give Me a Shot

Jess narrowed her eyes and shifted, letting out a light cough before she continued.

“She died in a car accident. But I don’t think it truly was one. It was his fault. He was driving, and he survived. Cassie didn’t. The elephant in the room is that they’d been fighting in the car at the time. My mother waited until well after the funeral to mention that Cassie’s husband liked to drive aggressively to scare her when they fought in the car. And somehow, he always ended up starting a fight with her in the car.” Jess was completely slumped in her chair. Mo didn’t know what to do or say. Tiny, spiky sparkles of ice bloomed over every inch of his skin, each fiber of his muscles. Breathing was of no interest to him. Just a yearning to say something that would help even though he understood that nothing truly could. Jess moved a bit like she was uncomfortable.

“I…I am so sorry, Jess,” he whispered. She readjusted her hand in his and squeezed it hard. He squeezed back.

“Do you want to go sit on the couch?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

He let go of her hand and followed her as she made her way over, Steinem staying at her side. When she sat, Mo got close, but not enough to crowd her.

Jess leaned into him, and he wrapped her in his arms. He took a deep breath. She wasn’t crying, even though she had good reason to. She was breathing slow and deep with her head tucked into his shoulder. He stroked her beautiful sable hair. Sometimes it was good to be quiet. Just sit in sadness if necessary. So that’s all he did, no more questions, no trying to get her to talk about it. He’d wait for her if she wanted to speak. After a little while, she raised her head to look at him.

“My mom called me yesterday,” she said. “Wants me to come home for a visit. But it…it doesn’t feel like home anymore. I’veonly been once since I got back from England.” She gave him a wry smile. “Cassie sent me a message after my mom called. Or I’d like to think of it as a message from her.”

Mo raised his eyebrows.

“What’s that?” he asked.

She rested a hand on his cheek.

“To give you a chance. To stop holding back. It was a notification of some photos we’d taken a year ago. On the day she told me it was time for me to have a relationship. A real one. Not someone I hold at arm’s length.”

Mo didn’t want to nod, concerned that she might take it as encouragement for her to let her hand slip from cradling his cheek. He smiled a little.

“Do you agree with her?” he asked.

“I do,” she said, leaning in to kiss him, her hand sliding down to his chest.

He was thrilled to be kissed, as he always was when they did. But there was a tiny worry that she was kind of displacing emotions, and she might regret it later. He gently took her hand in his again and pulled back a little.

“Are you sure?” he whispered. “You’ve had a heavy day.”

“I have,” she whispered back. “But I trust you; I feel safe. And I’ve wanted a lot more for a while now.”

Mo’s brain stuttered for a moment. She couldn’t mean…then she was kissing him again.

Chapter Seventeen

Jess

Jess felt warm for the first time since the previous afternoon. The soup had helped a little, but kissing Mo made things much better. The gentle scratch of his beard on her palm, the heat from his body drawing her closer and pushing away the chill that had settled in her bones. She knew he wouldn’t take the lead in deepening the kiss, so she did, nudging his lips open with her own. She shifted closer, nearly in his lap, and ran her hand into his wavy hair. He groaned, and she felt the sound moving through her, shuffling away the last traces of sadness. After a moment’s hesitation, she pulled back enough to look him in the eye.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Uh…”

She shifted quickly, straddling his lap. The shock on his face made her laugh.

“Mo,” she said. “You look a little scared.”

“I…” His cheeks reddened as he chuckled and tipped his chin down. “I’ve never been the most comfortable leading, the uh…dance,” he said. “It doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

“Ah,” she said, taking his hands and putting them on her thighs. “Well, leading doesn’t bother me one bit.” She slid one hand up his arm, savoring his impressive biceps, and well-muscled shoulder. She used the fingertips of the other to caress his chest.

He was completely still, searching her eyes. She flattened her hand on his chest; his heart was pounding. She leaned closer.

“Mo,” she whispered, smiling. “Why don’t—”

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