Page 85 of Don't Call Me Sweetheart

She grinned. “Pretty good. How about you?”

“Cautiously optimistic.”

She laughed. “When are you ever not cautious?”

I thought of the ring hidden in my nightstand drawer. I had bought it a month ago but hadn’t done anything about it—yet. Not because I was cautious. For once, I was taking my time, not rushing to the next thing. I knew exactly where I was going, but I was also enjoying being right where I was. This was, in a lot of ways, the first real adult relationship for both of us. I wanted us both to savor every second of every stage of it.

I shot Jessica an easy grin. “That’s fair.”

“Hmm.” She eyed me speculatively. “You’re in a good mood.”

Of course I was. It was a fourth Friday of the month. Not that I didn’t love and enjoy every second with Jessica—nearly, anyway, because teenage hormones and sarcasm were fearsome things—but the one night a month I had Kate all to myself was something I treasured.

I waved hello to Juan and Maria before Jessica disappeared into their house. George’s parents had approached me cautiously at first. I suspected Kate having a man in her life made them worry they might lose the special time they had with Jessica. But that hadn’t happened, of course. Kate would never keep Jessica away from them.

The rest of Hart’s Ridge was slowly adapting to our relationship as well. Some folks still blanched at seeing Kate as someone’s girlfriend rather than George’s widow, but they were coming around. Good thing, because someday soon, she was going to be someone’s wife. Mine.

But not yet. I knew she needed time to just be. Not someone’s widow. Not someone’s wife. Just Kate.

I could wait.

She was waiting for me at home, a pizza baking in the oven and a plate of carrot sticks, cucumbers, and hummus laid out as an appetizer.

“I signed the contract today,” I said, right after kissing her hello. “Three years, like we talked about.” The board of directors, particularly Theodore Locklear, had pushed for five, but I had held firm. I enjoyed working at Piedmont, but public school was where I was most needed. I had heard rumblings that the Hart Middle School principal would be retiring three years from now.

“Fantastic!” Kate kissed me again. “We should celebrate.”

“I agree.” I lifted her by the waist onto the counter, making her squeal with laughter. “How much time do we have?”

She swatted my shoulder. “Six minutes. I meant with the bottle of champagne I put in the refrigerator for this exact occasion, not this.”

But I was already pushing her skirt up and yanking down her underwear.

“Max!” she protested as I knelt between her thighs. “We don’t have time. I can’t—not in six minutes!”

I lifted my gaze from the sweet view right at mouth level to meet her eyes. “We won’t know unless we try, will we?” I leaned forward, swiping my tongue through her damp heat, humming with approval. “Anyway, you know what they say.”

“What’s that?” she panted.

I grinned. “Practice makes perfect.”

And so, we practiced again and again and again, all night long.

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TRUST ME.

He’s my best friend’s older brother. I might be a walking disaster, but I know how to keep my hands to myself. Right?

It was a typical Friday night for me. Lock myself out of my house after having too much to drink? Check. Steal a police horse? Sure, why not. Spend the night with my best friend’s older brother? Um…

Nothing happened. This time.

I’ve made some pretty bad choices in my life. My ex-husband being the worst of them. Hart’s Ridge is a chance to start over. Do better. I’m determined to get it right this time.

Michael says I can trust him. He’s not a liar and he doesn’t cheat. But he doesn’t understand.

It’s not him I can’t trust.

I can’t trust myself.

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