Her hand ran through the hair at the back of my neck, and she gathered me close for a closed-mouth, yet sensual kiss. It felt like a promise, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up.
I’d made a lot of promises at one time too.
Bexley
Aston and I lay there together on my couch like his world wasn’t potentially crumbling. This was Nevada, and I’d read drug trafficking convictions came with a stiff sentence here. But in this moment, that harsh reality didn’t touch us.
Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I knew he could be taken away from me all over again, and this time I wouldn’t survive. Yet I shoved it way down, ignoring that possibility.
We were playing a dangerous game, or maybe only I was? In my mind, for this one fleeting moment, we were back together as if we’d never been separated, and all was good and right.
I knew none of it was reality, but I couldn’t let that permeate my brain. My heart was the stronger of the two organs.
Longing glances, gentle caresses, our fingers exploring, our lips tasting . . . our passion was still there, hanging heavily in the air.
Finally, we both stilled, taking in our surroundings, and I spoke first.
“This is surreal.”
Aston rested on his side, cramped in next to me on the couch. “Yes.”
“I’m not sure what’s happening, if there’s something even happening. It may not be such a good idea . . .”
He brought his lips to my neck, sliding my shirt away and kissing the top of my shoulder. The heat from his lips prickled against my chilled skin.
“It’s—” was all he said before his phone rang. “I’ve got to grab this.”
He rolled over me and stood up, swiping his finger across the phone. “What’s up, boo?”
His gaze glued to the carpet, his expression was serious as he walked back toward the front door. In a matter of seconds, his demeanor changed and his voice turned gruff.
“What? Put your mom on the phone.” A few seconds later, he stepped into the adjoining room, sputtering, “You’re kidding, Cass? You can’t be serious.”
I wasn’t sure what I should do. Should I stand and go to him, or hang back? Instinct begged me to wrap my arms around him, but experience told me to stay away. These were his kids and wife, his ex-wife, matters I wasn’t involved in.
“I have to go.”
Aston walked back into the family room, looking his usual nonplussed self in his dark-wash jeans and white oxford rolled up at the sleeves. He didn’t look rumpled or shocked or overwhelmed like me, didn’t appear to be stressed like I was.
“I’d like to come back, but I’m not sure how long this will take.”
I swallowed a cocktail of confusion and regret. I’d let him back into my life and my heart like nothing had ever happened, as if he hadn’t rocked my world in the worst way possible years ago. If we’d gone on a few more minutes, I probably would have been on the floor, carpet burn on my back. Crass but true.
Cass, his wife, ex or not, needed him, and he was going.
Cass, who came with all the trappings and the right family name.
Cass, who wasn’t me.
“I don’t think you should,” I told him. Protecting myself came first. “Come back, I mean.”
“Don’t do this, Bex. I have to go. This isn’t a choice. Someone pulled Mara’s hair at school and told her that her dad was a criminal. Cass is freaking out, and when she does that, she hits the bottle hard. I gotta go get my kids and make sure they’re okay.”
Shame washed over me. I didn’t even occur to me that the phone call could have been about his kids.
“I can’t leave Mara and Little A there.”
Mara and Aston Junior were his kids. I knew that much from Milly, one of the small morsels she’d fed me over the years. All this time, they’d seemed imaginary, but now when he said their names aloud, they felt real.
They were innocent souls, like my own kids, caught in a nasty web of bullshit and years of deceit. I couldn’t fault them or hold them accountable for ruining this moment.
“Is that okay, Bexley? Say it’s okay. I don’t want to leave, but I have to. Say you understand. I have to get my kids and see if Denise, the nanny, is at my dad’s house and can go watch them.” His expression softened, and he pleaded with me while his fingers lightly ran down my forearm. “Then I’ll come back.”
“Okay,” I mumbled. “But we can’t fall back into bed with each other like the last fourteen years haven’t happened. Like there isn’t this huge divide between us, and we didn’t both move on. There are a whole lot of other people involved now.”
He kissed my forehead, his lips lingering one second, then two. “Of course. I’m on your pace, your terms, whatever you want. And all those people are important, but none are as important as you. I know I haven’t shown you that in all these years, but give me a chance to prove it?”
I nodded, unable to form a response, and Aston hurried out.
Sliding down to the floor, my back against the couch, I whispered to myself, “I’m not even sure what I just agreed to.”
I was still in the same place, the seam of the sofa digging into my back as I stared down at my wrinkled tank and bare feet, when my phone rang. For the second time in twenty-four hours, I answered without looking at the screen. This wasn’t my real life.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Miller?”
“It’s Ms. Rivers now. Who’s this?”
“This is Doug Pyle. I work for Peter Prescott’s attorney. We’ve been keeping an eye on Aston for Mr. Prescott,
