Page 24 of The Best of Us

“Colin, um. Go to the bakery around the corner and get us our usual breakfast, will you?” She tried to take her purse from me, but I set it down and went for my wallet.

“Make it for three.” I handed him a hundred.

“Go,” she whispered.

“Are you sure?” Colin’s gaze volleyed between us.

“Please.” She nodded, and he hesitantly left, but not without shoulder-checking me on his way out.

I tossed my wallet on my suit jacket, my heartbeat flying. My nerves stringing me the fuck up.

She sidestepped me, and I gently reached for her wrist, urging her to face me. “You know who I am?” she murmured, her long lashes fluttering. Her creamy skin became a soft pink as I nodded. “I didn’t realize it was you at first. I thought I was crazy. But then you said your name began with a C. And you look like how I remembered.” She swallowed. “I’m not crazy, then?”

No, you’re not.“I told you, name or not, I wouldn’t forget you. It just took me a minute to get there.”

“Then I suppose you have a question to ask me.”

I did, but not the one she was thinking.

“He’s mine. He looks like me. And even if he didn’t, I just . . . I know.” The truth was there. No more trying to deny it. That kid was my blood.

Her lower lip trembled as she parted her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

I let go of her wrist and cupped her face between my palms. My hands slid over her cheeks and to the sides of her head and into her hair. “I left you my number.” Pain tore through me, and chills struck my body as I kept hold of her. “Why didn’t you call me?” My voice betrayed me, a tremble there as I begged to know, “Why didn’t you let me know I had a son?”

Chapter6

Juliette

Seventeen Years Ago - That Night

With his darkeyes on me and that accent as he talked, he could stare at me and speak all day and all night for the rest of human history, and I’d submit without question.

My entire body shuddered at his every touch, and when he pushed my panties out of the way and his fingers made contact between my legs, he swallowed my cry with his mouth.

I held on to him tight, and he held me right back. He kissed me fervently, like he wanted to devour me.

“More,” I pleaded, and he walked me backward and to the wall.

He knelt before me, and I gasped in surprise at what he planned to do.

Panic set in, and I shoved at his hard shoulders before his tongue had a chance to slip across my heated skin. “No.” My voice wobbled from nerves. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t, do I?” A wolfish grin crossed his lips as he hooked the hem of my panties, urging the fabric to fall to my ankles. “Well, what if I want to? Desperately, in fact.”

My entire body was probably blushing at his husky words, and now I had to tell him something semi-embarrassing with him kneeling before me. “No one has ever . . .”

His brows shot up. Genuine shock on his face. He looked off to the side, saying something in another language, doubtfully Spanish based on the little I recalled from high school.

I wasn’t worldly or well-traveled enough to identify where he was from by his accent or words alone.

My dad was from Scotland, but he hadn’t even taken me there to visit. Aruba was my first time outside the United States. I was sheltered, to put it mildly.

I’m here with this man because I want different. I want to feel something. To feel alive.

“My ex wasn’t into it, so he never did it.” Great, keep killing the mood. “But um, if you really want to, then yes. But if you don’t, that’s okay, too.”

“I’m beginning to hate your ex.” His brows tightened, his gaze flying between my legs. “And I really, really want to taste you. But I don’t want to pressure you.”

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