Page 75 of The Best of Us

“A pump of hazelnut?” She licked the froth clinging to her bottom lip while opening her eyes.

I may have made it extra foamy for that exact reason. So shoot me. I liked this woman’s mouth a hell of a lot, right along with every other part of her.

“There is,” I finally answered. “I took a chance you’d like it.”

“More than like it.” She rested her back to the counter, crossing one ankle over the other while quietly observing me as I cleaned up.

Everything back in its spot, I settled into a similar position, doing my best not to anxiously skip to asking for the photo album session she’d promised before heading upstairs.

“How’d it go with Colin?”

“He told me the bare minimum about Lennon. I was lucky to get even that, but he promises he’s not . . . you know, active like that with her. Should I believe him?”

“I don’t know,” was all I could give her, not wanting to stress her out even more. I found myself constantly wanting to do anything and everything to protect this woman on every level. Physically and mentally.

“How old were you when you lost it?”

Talking about sex was only going to remind me of how much I wanted to have it with her.

“Freshman in college. I made a promise to my mother I wouldn’t have sex as long as I lived under her roof.” I met her eyes. “And I keep my promises.”

“Ohh.” She rolled her lips together, making them disappear for a second. “I asked Colin to do the same.” She shook her head. “But I don’t know if he’ll keep his word like you did.”

I had a feeling he already broke his word. “He tell you anything else while up there? Let you, at least, hug him?” Hopefully, she was able to do what I wished I could.

She took another sip, and for the first time since Bianca died, I didn’t experience an overwhelming feeling of grief just looking at that cup and the chip in the handle. Bianca had named the cup Chip, too. Something to do with a Disney movie. Well, so I remembered her saying, at least.

“I didn’t give him a choice on the hug.” She gave me a small smile, and I’d take it. I’d take anything I could get from this woman. “He didn’t say much or talk about his feelings about you. He switched back to denial mode, focusing on the PlayStation that he said will be miraculously delivered later.”

Miraculous, all right. My name on a credit card could make just about anything happen. Except for the most important thing: give me back the time we all lost.

She quietly drank her latte, staring at me as if unsure what to say next. Understandable, given how heavy things had turned when we’d tried talking last time in this very spot. I didn’t blame her. I was apprehensive as fuck myself.

I didn’t want to tell her about the rest of my skeletons or why they existed in the first place just as much as I wasn’t ready to explain why I had my interior designer recreate an Aruba-like theme for one of my guest rooms.

“So, are you ready to look at some photos?” she asked, smiling.

ThatI could do. “Absolutely.”

I gestured to the living room and followed after her, unable to stop myself from checking her out. She’d changed into jeans somewhere in between hugging our son and returning to the kitchen. They were a tight fit, and if I stared at her ass in them any longer, the front of my shorts would also become tight as my dick grew.

Juliette set Chip down on the table before removing her phone from her back pocket. She sat on my gray U-shaped couch, a nervous expression crossing her face.

“Where would you like to start?” she asked as I sat beside her.

I reached for her leg, resting my hand on her thigh as if that were the most natural thing for me to do. She didn’t flinch or push me away. She did the opposite and scooted closer.

“From the beginning,” I requested.

I clocked her swallowing as she swiped to her photo app. “Newborn photos first?”

“No.” I gently squeezed her leg. “Pregnancy photos. I want to see everything, and I want to know everything.”

She glanced at me, her eyes shimmering with emotion. She could so easily show what had always been easy for me to hide. Well, until her. Until Colin. Until they flipped my world around and made itrightagain.

“I want to know if you had morning sickness and if he kept you awake at night.” I grinned. “He was a kicker, wasn’t he?”

Her lips parted, and a single tear stretched the length of her cheek. I shifted on the couch, so our legs touched, catching that tear with the pad of my thumb.

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