Page 51 of The Love Dose
“Hungry,” I groan, not referring to the pup . . . or to food.
“I’ll grab him a slice of bread.”
“I'll get it.” It takes all my energy to move my legs.
“Your room, if that’s okay,” Caroline says, answering the previous question.
Like a magnet, I return to the same spot and drop a few pieces of bread several feet away. Rezy goes after them, leaving nothing between me and Caroline. I keep my gaze downward, fearing what I'll do if our eyes meet.
“Sure,” I say, my voice gruff with desire.
“Cal.”
I hold my breath. She tilts her head up.
And she pecks me on the cheek.
I’m shaken, disappointed. Wanting more.
We’ve crossed the friend line not once but twice. She must see the storm in my eyes. Her lips are a hair away.
Finally, our eyes lock. Time slows down. Caroline's pupils are dilated, her breath quick.
One word escapes my lips. “Please.”
Her hands reach up, her fingers digging into my hair. And then?—
Caroline's mouth is on mine.Devouringmine. My arms wrap around her waist and I’m lost once again, completely consumed by the warmth of her body, the taste of her lips, and the undeniable force that is this incredible woman.
The woman I love.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Caroline
Ilie in bed, staring at the ceiling. After the socks-blowing kiss in the kitchen, I forced myself upstairs and into my room, knowing if we went any further, I’d surely regret it.
My body is ready for sleep, but my mind has other ideas.
What was I thinking, making the first move to kiss him after getting back on track as Scrabble-playing buddies?
When Calvin asked, “Your room or mine,” I was sure I suffered an actual heart attack. But when our lips met, the passion was all encompassing. And yet it was more than that. Kissing Calvin feels less like lust and more like— that other L word.
How is this happening?
I’m no less confused than I was after our first kiss at the gazebo but I am resigning myself to the fact that somethingischanging, rapidly. Whether it’s good or not is yet to be determined.
I pull the comforter up to my chin. In the cool room, burrowed beneath the covers, I ponder what Calvin is doing right now. Is he also wide awake or sleeping like a baby, Rezy cuddling next to him?
If only it were me.
Icicles shimmer out my window. I can’t see far in the dark but what is visible is pristine and peaceful but not lonely. Calvin is in the next room.
I close my eyes in search of answers. Bernard is there, behind my lids. He’s not angry or hurt. He’s happy for me. Maybe my mind is simply conjuring up what I want to see. But Bernard was a good man, a generous soul, and to my great fortune, my husband, even if it was only for a short while.
I wait for the guilt to take over but it doesn’t come. I’m proud of my subconscious. I was a good wife to Bernard. I mourned him. But I’m still here and deserve happiness.
Still, my life is a mess with so many things still unsure. The lawsuit, my health. There’s no way I’m thinking clearly now. It may not feel like it, but my attraction to Calvin may be a human result of grief and loneliness.
