“Join the club,” she laughed. “At least you don’t have to spend time with him.”
“You don’t either,” I reminded.
“I do it for Linc,” she admitted, her voice dipping. “He loves his grandpa.”
“That’s a lot to put up with, but it’s admirable,” I said. “Make sure he doesn’t see him treat you the way I heard him talking to you the other night. That sticks with them more than all the love in the world.”
I wanted to knock Ed’s teeth down his throat, but that was a different story. I’d always be protective of her when it came to him, no matter how much she’d hurt me. It was the only reason I hid the disgusting truth about him from the world.
“I do what’s best for him.”
“I know, and I respect that,” I sighed. “But remember to be a happy mom — not a perfect mom. Sometimes you need to take yourself into consideration.”
I saw myself in Linc, at one time living as the child of a single mom, vaguely recalling a time when mine was sober. I remembered how we struggled, and I could remember how she cried at night, too proud to ask for help. It all went out the window when she fell in love with Jack, carrying the bottle around like a shield.
“Try raising a kid and let me know how that balance works for you,” she grumbled.
“I just want you to be happy. I can tell you aren’t.”
“We’re all dealing with something, Luke,” she sighed.
“Clearly. We’re sitting on a dock in the middle of the night instead of in bed.” It wasn’t really something that normal people did.
“Our own beds,” she corrected.
“Obviously.”
“It’s hard sometimes,” she sighed, a slight pull to her voice. “I get so tired and need a break, but feel guilty because I’m here, and Scott isn’t.”
I cleared my throat, positive that she was crying. “You take it a day at a time, that’s all. Everyone needs downtime. You can’t run on fumes. Refueling for Linc isn’t a crime.”
“It feels like it is. I’m so busy being mom and dad, and then everyone has their opinions about what I’m doing, and it gets old. I moved home for it to be easier, not harder. Sometimes I wish I stayed in San Diego.”
I almost wished she had too but couldn’t. “You’d be just as unhappy there. At least you have family here,” I argued. “And you’re doing a great job. Linc is a testament to that. He’s the only kid his age I’ve met that shakes hands, always says please and thank you, and doesn’t whine.”
She laughed. “You haven’t spent enough time with him. That boy can whine.”
“He’s going to whine despite your best efforts. He’s your kid. You’re the queen of whining.”
“Am not!” she barked.
“Luke! My legs hurt!” I mimicked, remembering all too well the time she complained all the way to the top of Flying Mountain. I put on my best Josie voice, trying to nail the high-pitch shrill of a whine. “Luke! I’m tired! Luke, I’m cold! Luke! I’m-”
I was silenced with her lips on mine, a gentle touch with devastating consequences.
I made a lot of mistakes, but none worse than kissing Josie again. It was a horrible idea, betraying every bit of pain I’d harbored over the years, but I couldn’t help it.
Everyone loved Josie fucking Roberts, and I was no exception.
She was as intoxicating as I remembered, moaning as our mouths revived the past and relearned one another with each sweep of a tongue or brush of lips.
She leaned over, hands resting on my chest as we kissed. It truly was heaven, reminding me why I loved her in the first place. Josie was home. She was from the moment we became friends, a scared girl who didn’t know a thing about life, love, or any of its ups and downs and a boy mad as hell at the world.
I didn’t want the moment to end, so I pulled her body on top of mine, kissing the woman I loved, hated, and everything in between while she straddled my hips, those legs feeling better than I imagined around me.
The salt from her tears was obvious on her lips, but I didn’t care. I’d waited eleven excruciating years for the chance to taste her again. To taste the lips I’d tried to forget. The lips I’d never forget.
I longed for her touch since I watched her walk away with Ed; her face bright red from his hand, wanting to rip him from limb to limb, restrained by the cuffs around my wrist. I made a promise to myself I’d get back to her, to rescue her, but she never gave me a chance. She left me, instead.
Despite the tears, passion didn’t fade, her demands just as frantic as mine, kissing me with a fire I hadn’t expected. It wasn’t merely two adults fooling around. It was years of history exploding. Love. Hate. Anguish. All pouring out like lava from a volcano.
Before I knew it, we were moving as I scooted backward, sitting up to rest against a post. A hand on her slender waist and another in that hair I loved so much, kissing the woman who’d always have me ensnared in one way or another.
Her hands clutched at my shirt desperately, her body trembling with each brush of lips as tears continued to fall.
Was it guilt? Shame? Embarrassment? I didn’t know, but I didn’t want to think about it. I just wanted to enjoy the moment, to enjoy us.
My cock was rock hard, and I knew there was no hiding it. Her body was positioned perfectly atop it, the mass pressing against her with everything it had.
I gripped her hip and ground up for a taste, earning a husky moan into my mouth, a noise I hadn’t heard her make in so long, a sound that drove me
