Page 20 of A Way Out
“Wait. You just got divorced? You aren’t running from something?”
She blew a raspberry. “Yes, my own stupidity.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’ve spent my entire marriage trying to emulate my parents’ relationship, which is so stupid because they aren’t happy. For goodness’ sake, I accepted when my ex-husband asked me out because I thought my mother would approve of him. It had nothing to do with physical attraction, which I know isn’t supposed to be the basis for a happy relationship, but, God, my mouth never watered when I saw him naked, and my mouth is watering right now. Still. And Lord, I just said that out loud. This is so embarrassing.”
Why was he reeling so hard over this? He should be relieved that she was not running from an abusive relationship.
Except that meant one of the barriers to taking this attraction to the next level was now gone, and that was the real problem.
He forced his feet forward, eating up the distance between them, cupping her biceps. Her skin was soft under his calloused hands, and it was only by a sheer act of will that he was able to keep himself from stroking her arms. Instead, he gave her a little squeeze.
“It’s fine. I appreciate your honesty. Now, may I take a shower?”
Her eyes widened as her gaze darted to the bathtub, and if she even remotely hinted that she might want to join him, he did not think he’d have the strength to say no. Not after the way she looked at him. And told him that her mouth was watering. And that he looked like a Greek god.
Damn.
Her head bobbed, and she took a half step back. He released his hold on her arms. “Yes, right, of course.” Another step. “Um…”
“We’re good,” he assured her. Or was he assuring himself? “I’ll be down for dinner in a few minutes.”
More nodding. “Okay.”
“I’m going to close the door now.”
“Right. Uh, I’ll go find another bathroom. Um…”
“We’re good, Maria,” he said one more time, and then he gently closed the door and stood there, still grasping the knob, trying really fucking hard not to open it again and ask if she wanted to join him.
Instead, he did the smart thing and climbed into a ridiculously cold shower that, unfortunately, didn’t do much to tamp down desire for the endearing and incredibly beautiful woman who had just seen him naked—and told him how much she liked it.
Maria’s face reddened when Oz went downstairs for dinner, but other than that, there was no indication that their run-in in the bathroom had affected her.
He should be relieved, except he wanted to affect her. Yes, that was pretty fucked up of him, but there it was.
Elana had made chicken enchiladas for dinner. Riley turned her nose up at first—Maria quickly explained that she’d never had them before—but as soon as Izzie took her first bite, the toddler wanted to try them too. And then she ate two, much to her mother’s surprise.
Was it odd that he felt an odd surge of pride that his little family was helping to expand the toddler’s palate? Seriously, it didn’t even make sense that he’d feel this way.
After dinner, he received a text from Travis.
* * *
Be there in ten.
* * *
Oh shit. “Mama, I forgot I invited the band over to practice tonight,” he said in Spanish. “We have to work out our playlist for Holly and Sam’s reception.”
She nodded. “I will corral the children,” she replied in Spanish. “All four of them. Take Maria with you. I think she will enjoy the experience.”
“I don’t think?—”
“Go,” his mother commanded, in that this is final tone she’d been using for his entire life.
Maria darted her gaze over her shoulder like a cornered animal when he placed his hand on her back and gently nudged her out of the kitchen. “What just happened?” she asked.
