Page 37 of 40 and Flirting (with Disaster)
Long minutes later, they slumped to the bench together.
“Jamie.” Iris’s voice was husky, and damned if that didn’t make him a little proud. “This is…”
He waited for her to find her words.
“This is so much more than I expected.”
When she didn’t elaborate, he spoke over the thumping of his heartbeat. “Is that good or bad?”
A faint smile touched her lips. “Good.” She raised sated eyes to him. “I can’t say it doesn’t scare me, but I’m not going to run.”
He leaned in, unable to resist the need to take her mouth, take her promise direct from her lips. “Thank you.”
Her smile became a full-on grin. “You got it right this time.”
“Hey, I know who to thank.” He matched her grin. “Especially if you tell me we can do this again.”
“Yes, we definitely can.”
He slid from the bench onto his knees and positioned himself between her legs. “Then I’ll have to perform a proper thank-you.”
Her eyes went wide. Iris straightened on the bench. “Will you?”
“I definitely will.” He’d wanted to taste her, and he wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass. He licked the side of one knee. Her thigh. Higher. “Hold on tight.”
A long time later, Iris’s “you’re welcome” was barely audible, but it was the smile on her face that told him everything he wanted to know.
Eighteen
As she rushed through the rain into Wildwood Brew, Iris was especially thankful for Jamie’s firm massage this morning after their shower. She felt like her body was singing. Every muscle and joint that had been sore this morning now moved with a fluidity that only pleasure and Jamie’s touch could have given her. And she had a definite smile on her face. Jamie had made sure of that—last night and this morning.
A sigh of contentment left her as she made her way toward the counter, shaking off raindrops along the way. When had she last felt content? Before the divorce? A very, very long time. Things had gone from fine to strained to estranged over years, not days. She’d spent a lot of those years walking on eggshells without even realizing it. Looking back over the summer, though, she realized she’d felt contentment creeping in repeatedly. She liked her life. She liked Jamie. It wasn’t how she’d imagined the second half of her life would be, but she’d healed enough that she was no longer afraid to say this life was good.
She claimed a seat on the couch near the front window and tilted her head back against the cushions, closing her eyes to listen to the falling rain hitting the glass, savoring the moment and the feelings so newly awakened inside her. The sound of a throat clearing broke through her revery a few minutes later.
She opened her eyes to Maria, the owner of Wildwood Brew, standing before her, coffee in hand. “Sorry. I was lost in thought, I guess.”
“Don’t be.” Maria extended her drink with a wink, brown eyes twinkling. “Looked like they were good thoughts.”
Iris blushed. Maria chuckled her way back to the front counter.
A few blows of her breath cooled the coffee enough for a sip. She was savoring the first taste when Adam appeared outside, hurrying up the sidewalk. He was alone. Dread began to creep around the edges of her morning’s bliss.
He stopped just inside the door to shake off the raindrops like she had when she’d arrived, before crossing the room toward her. “Good morning, Mom.”
“Good morning.” She gratefully accepted his hug. “Where’s Chloe this morning?”
Adam shrugged. “She wanted to give us some mother-son time.”
She cocked her head, looking up at him. “Did Krista also want to give us some mother-son time?” He’d been tasked with picking his sister up, she knew.
Adam’s grin was wry. “No. She just wanted to make you sweat.”
Her palms could attest that the tactic was working. “And you?”
She thought she knew the answer, but she held her breath as Adam drew her in for a half hug, pulling her to his side. He winked. “I’m just here for the coffee.”
She laughed, relief relaxing her shoulders. At least she could have a pleasant few moments with her son before handling the problem of Krista. “Me too.”
