“Can we quit holding back and just do this already?” he asked.
I stared into his eyes. “Shut up and take me to bed.”
He caught the bottom of my sweater and tugged it over my head, barely losing a beat before releasing my bra and attacking my neck with a fervour that made me weak in the knees.
The only thing I managed was to moan and yank at the buttons on his shirt, anxious for skin on skin. “Mmm, Jake.” My entire body quaked.
Jake scooped me up and carried me to the bedroom, peeling his shirt and jeans off seconds after depositing me on the bed.
Damn. This man was beautiful. All lean toned muscle and smooth tanned skin, and not in the least bit shy as his jeans joined the rest of his clothes on the floor.
I squirmed and wiggled to free myself from my pants, Jake joining the tussle of pulling the dark-washed denim over my feet and discarding it in a heap.
His mouth engulfed my breast, hot hands skimming across my skin, then lifting my hips. Now there was nothing between us. Nothing to keep us apart.
Taking the second day off in a row made me a touch guilty, but how could I resist spending this precious day with Jake? Tomorrow he’d be on a plane to Halifax so many thousands of kilometres away, and we’d be relegated to days of text and phone calls.
Jake entwined our fingers as we walked down the hill, enjoying the warm and sunny afternoon. “Where are we going?”
“A cute little café that serves the most amazing comfort food. Like homemade mac and cheese, and …” I wrinkled my nose, laughing as he smirked. “What?”
“You always did love to eat, but that’s a great thing.” His arm slid around me. “Remember that place down the street from our apartment?”
“Of course.” As university students with heavy course loads, we often ate at the locally owned café. The food was amazing, and those forays doubled as a way to eat out and stay on budget. Our local haunt became our secondary study hall, where we’d quiz each other and pore over notes as we shovelled in their weekly special. Then we would rush back to our cozy apartment and make love, spending countless hours in each other’s arms. “Having you here doesn’t feel real,” I said.
“Mmm, but I am.” He rubbed my back. “What’s the best dish on the menu?”
“That’s a tough one. I love the—” My eyes widened as I spotted a familiar figure crossing the street in front of the Polygon Gallery.
“Amara,” Kyle said as he halted several feet from us. His lips flattened, and he stared at our entwined hands, approaching slowly. “I’m Kyle Weston,” he said, extending a hand to Jake.
“Jake Cavallaro,” he said as the two men eyed each other.
I plastered on a smile. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m meeting the guys at the pub,” Kyle said.
I nodded.
“Speaking of which, I’d better get moving. We’re planning to watch the game.” Kyle rubbed the back of his neck. “Can you call me tomorrow, if you’re not too busy?” He dodged around us, practically loping up the steep slope.
“Kyle, huh?” Jake squeezed my hand.
I lifted a shoulder, nibbling at my lip as we entered the café and requested a table for two.
Once we were seated, Jake said, “It seemed at touch awkward for you.”
“No …”
His raised eyebrows had me shifting on the bench. “No?”
“Okay! It was weird for the two of you to meet like that. I was unprepared. It’s been at least two months since I’ve seen him.”
He set his menu aside and took my hand, stroking it with his thumb. “Was it a rough separation? He looked pissed about us holding hands.”
“Like he’d give a crap about what I do in my personal life. He’s just grouchy about the divorce papers.”
Jake squinted.
“He texted me last week to hurry up and get to the lawyer to sign them, but I’ve been busy. They’ll get done when they get done.”
The man across from me rubbed his temples. “You aren’t divorced yet?”
“It’s not that big of a deal. He’s been so indifferent, so emotionless, so …” Stiff and unyielding.
“That look didn’t say indifferent or emotionless. It said the man wanted to lay me out on that sidewalk. Just put the guy out of his misery and sign the damn divorce papers so he knows it’s over. Or, if not for him, do it for yourself. For us.”
“Bossy.” I crossed my arms and sat back. “It’ll get done.”
Jake leaned back and mimicked me, crossing his own arms. “Why haven’t you signed?”
Crap, crap. Now both Kyle and Jake were on my case. Jake practically with steam rising.
“It’s not really your business,” I said, narrowing my eyes.
“Refusing to divorce your husband when you and I are sleeping together isn’t my business? Silly me, acting like we’re in a relationship.”
I shrank a little.
“You don’t want to divorce him? Or are you running away, like always?”
“I’m not running.”
“It’s what you do. Avoid the real issues and then cut and run when it gets tough.”
“I don’t.”
“Huh. Why did you sneak out of my room that first night at the wedding?”
“At least I didn’t wait until after we had sex and then sneak out like you were some stray I’d picked up at the bar.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Back to that, huh.”
“If the truth fits.”
Jake cupped his hands over his face, a long groan accompanying the tiny shake of his head. “This shit is getting us nowhere.” He thumped a fist on the table, but his expression softened as our eyes locked. “I’m sorry for taking advantage of that situation. I’m sorry you thought it was less than it was. I’m sorry for being such a fucking mess. The woman I’ve loved for almost ten years showed up, all single, available, and desirable, acting so sweet and caring, and looking better than ever. I just … wanted you in a way I hadn’t wanted anyone
