She’s silent way too long, but my heart starts beating again when she smiles.
Hesitant at first, then brighter with a slight shake of her head. “No. I’m not ready to give up yet either.”
My smile breaks wide and with my hands now gripping onto her hips, I jerk her forward so she settles against the part of me that liked her first. It’s not the only part of me that likes her now, and maybe not even the greatest part at this point.
But now that talk is out of the way, and we have made a commitment of sorts to move this to a new level, I’d like to show her just how much I’m pleased by this turn of events.
“Let’s get you naked, okay?” My voice is husky, promising.
“Okay,” she whispers.
“Then I want to do things to you,” I murmur, my eyes holding hers. “With my mouth… between your legs.”
Emory lets out a tremulous breath and her eyelids flutter slightly.
“That okay with you?” I ask to make sure.
“Yeah,” she rasps with a nod of her head. “That’s okay with me.”
CHAPTER 14
Emory
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I mutter as I stir the spaghetti sauce and lift it to my lips to taste.
“You’re doing this,” Jenna says adamantly, taking the words not as an affirmation I’m actually doing this, but as a statement that I’d really like to cancel and not do this.
I invited Jett to eat dinner at my house.
I try to tell myself it’s no different than having him over for our Not-So-Thanksgiving Dinner but it’s different. That was a friend type of thing. Co-workers really.
But we’re carnal now, so this is different.
This is involved.
This is complicated.
“Why did I do this?” I ask her, a hint of panic in my voice. I cut her a glance and she rolls her eyes at me.
“You’re doing this because you like Jett and he likes you, and you’re dating.”
“We’re not—
“You’re dating,” she says knowingly. “And your time is limited. With his game schedule—half of which is on the road—and you being a mom with a demanding career, you have to try to spend time with each other when you can.
“I can’t believe he accepted.” The wonder in my voice is evident. I mean… Jett is a hot hockey player who could have any woman or puck bunny out there. Instead, he’s chosen to spend one of his rare evenings off with the woman he’s been sleeping with, her seven-year-old daughter, and her sister. It’s about as far from sexy times as you can get.
And yet he seemed enthused when I made the invitation last night. He’d texted me from the team plane as they were returning from Dallas. I was trying not to overthink things, and it seemed low pressure to invite him to a family dinner. If he wanted to accept, fine. If he thought it was too lame and would rather do something else, that was fine too.
We were cool. We were still casual. No expectations.
But God was I happy he accepted, despite all my second thoughts and nerves firing crazy right now. I can deny that these feelings have started to deepen all I want, but Jenna is at least keeping me honest.
“Is Jett here yet?” Felicity asks as she bops into the kitchen holding a purple piece of construction paper folded in half. “I made him a welcome card.”
“Not yet, honey,” I reply and taste the sauce again. I have no clue why. It’s from a jar and it’s going to taste the way it tastes.
The knock on the front door tells me I just gave the wrong answer. “I’ll get it,” Felicity yells with excitement. When I told her Jett was coming over for dinner tonight, she asked why. It was a legit question because Mummy doesn’t have men over for dinner. I told her the truth… that he had become a special friend to me, and well… that seemed to delight Felicity. She’s been in her room making him a welcome card while I made dinner.
“Can you check on the garlic bread?” I ask Jenna as I put the sauce spoon down in the holder. Without waiting for a response, I follow Felicity out of the kitchen and through the living room to the front door.
She’s opening it before I can get there, and I’m able to take in her and Jett at the same time.
As usual, Jett is a walking sin. He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans and a well-fit Henley that’s pulled tight across his perfectly formed chest as he has both hands behind his back.
Felicity has her head tipped back to look up at him, and while I can’t see her face, I can hear the smile in her tone. “Hi, Jett. Welcome to our house for dinner.”
I can’t help but grin. Formal little girl with her British genes seeping through with civility.
My heart skips a beat when Jett smiles back down at her and from behind his back pulls out a bouquet of flowers. It’s just the type you’d find in a grocery store in a plastic sleeve, but it’s a pretty spring mix, and Felicity gasps.
“I brought these for you,” he says as he hands them to her with flourish.
“You did?” she asks in awe, reaching out to take the flowers.
His gaze lifts slightly and I get a short wink before he looks back at her. “And what’s that you have?” he asks, nodding at the card.
“It’s a card I made for you when Mummy said you were coming for dinner,” she replies proudly and hands it over to him. I have no clue what she drew but as Jett studies it, his lips quirk in amusement.
He thanks her for the drawing and steps inside, closing the door behind him.
“Why don’t you take those into the kitchen,” I say to Felicity nodding at the flowers. “Have Aunt Jenna find a vase to put them in.”
Felicity doesn’t reply but pivots and races past me, yelling, “Aunt Jenna… look… I have flowers.”
I move a few steps toward Jett, a smile playing at my lips. “That was very nice of you to bring those for her.”
He winces slightly and admits, “They were actually for you but she looked so damn cute standing there, I made a split-second decision.”
I laugh and put my hand to his chest, twisting my fingers in the material to give a playful tug. “Good choice. You now have her officially wrapped around your finger.”
Jett takes the opening and leans in for a fast kiss while we are alone, and just as quickly, I return it. When I pull back, he’s grinning. “What’s it going to take to get you wrapped around my finger?”
Glancing over my shoulder, I see Jenna and Felicity searching the cabinets for a vase. I turn back to him, lean in close, and whisper. “More orgasms.”
Jett groans dramatically and gives me one more fast kiss, promising, “I can handle that.”
We break apart, realizing our alone time is probably going to be cut short at any moment as Felicity is going to want to be the center of attention. She’s seven years old, and that’s what they do at that age.
“Hungry?” I ask, turning to move into the kitchen.
“Starved,” he admits as he follows. “Smells delicious.”
“Homemade spaghetti,” I tell him. “Been slaving on it all day.”
“Really?” he asks incredulously.
I look over my shoulder at him, rolling my eyes with a snicker. “No, not really. I barely had time to throw a jar of sauce in the pan when I got home from work.”