“Oh, smells great. What did you get us?”
“Pizza alla Siciliana and Pizza Miguel. Large for both, so you’ll have leftovers.”
“Excellent.” He poured two glasses of wine, handing one to me as he swirled the glass and took a long sniff followed by a small sip. “Dry, slightly fruity. Bet it’s awesome with pizza.”
“When did you become such an aficionado?”
“Have to keep up with my little wino.” He winked. “Dean and I took a course at the specialty boutique downtown.”
“I am impressed.” Damn. Damn! What was he doing to me? I raised my glass. “Cheers.”
Jake appraised me over the rim of his glass. “Did you drink an entire bottle already?”
“Can I not be in a good mood?”
“Sure.” But still, he kept looking at me as we ate, but finally relaxed as we sped through the first decanter, soon starting on a second, and then a third.
As we talked and laughed, memories of how it used to be assailed me. Our differences melted away, and all I could see was Jake. The old Jake, not the stressed-out single dad, even though reality would soon return with a resounding thump.
“I’m stuffed.” I flopped back on the couch, patting my belly.
“Still the same amazing food.” Jake combined the leftovers into one box and carried it off, soon returning with a fourth bottle of wine. He topped up my glass.
“Don’t think I’m getting back to Dar’s tonight, if you’re as drunk as I am.” I wobbled to my feet and stumbled down the hall with the glass in my hand, ducking through the second door on the left. “Oops. Missed the bathroom.”
“There’s one right there.” Jake lifted the goblet from my fingers and steered me through another doorway into the small but tidy bathroom. “Take your time.”
“So, so drunk.” I bent over the sink and splashed water over my face, soaking my sweater in the process. Without a second thought, I hauled it over my head and draped it over the glass shower stall. Clad only in my lacy bra and jeans, I stepped into his bedroom. “Uh, got my top wet.”
Jake looked up from his seat on the bed and groaned. “Fuck,” he muttered, scrubbing his jaw. “You wearing stuff like that makes it hard to behave.”
Swaying my hips, I stepped forward, tugging my ponytail free and shaking my head, sending my curls tumbling over my shoulders.
He tracked my path through half-closed eyes, his breath growing heavier as I stopped in front of him and ran my fingers through his silky hair. Reaching out, he spanned my waist with splayed hands and rubbed his stubbly cheek against my belly. “Mare,” he whispered, planting one, then another tender kiss on my bare flesh. “Gorgeous woman.”
My gentle push against his chest sent him backward onto the bed, leaving me room to work on removing his pants, now eager to have this man naked between the crisp cool sheets with my legs wrapped around him. I quivered as he discarded my scarlet bra.
Jake hauled me onto the bed and flipped me, rising up just enough to peel off my jeans and toss them aside. “You’re so, so”—his voice grew deeper, lower—“fucking beautiful.” His eyes darkened as he ran a warm hand down my body, starting between my breasts, caressing my belly, working lower and lower, hovering over me.
I slid a hand up his chest, staring up at this man who stirred me to the point it was almost unbearable. “Jake?” I rose up to meet him, nipping his bottom lip and pulling him down with me, one hand curled around the back of his neck. Ahh. This man was a feast to my senses, all sweet salty kisses, earthy masculine heat, and smooth hot skin. I pressed my face against his hair, sucking for air. “I love you.”
That fleeting second of stillness before he brushed his hand along my arm, entwining our fingers and squeezing ever-so-gently, was the only sign he’d heard.
The vague remembrance of Jake kissing me and leaving the bed while I floated somewhere in between the states of consciousness brought on a soft, contented smile. In the span of time between then and now, the light had brightened, but still, I snuggled deeper into my cocoon, loathe to leave the warm bedding that smelled deliciously of him.
The occasional clatter of dishes alerted me that it must be time for breakfast—or maybe even past. I crawled from bed and headed for his dresser, snagging a pair of his sweatpants and a t-shirt.
Still rubbing sleep from my eyes, I padded into the main room, taking in the scene; Sari at the coffee table scribbling on a colouring book page with a fat blue crayon, and Jake in the kitchen, stirring the hash browns sizzling in the frying pan.
“You look rough.”
“Gee, thanks, but I’ll admit I’m slightly parched.”
He tapped the wooden spoon on edge of the pan before setting it on the ceramic rest. “You’re just in time for my famous eggs benny, if you can stomach it.”
I shuffled directly into his welcoming arms, content to cuddle against his chest, my eyes closing as I soaked up his soothing warmth.
Jake kissed my temple and tipped my chin with a fingertip. “Okay?”
“You let me sleep.”
“There’s nowhere we need to be.” He rubbed my back. “It’s been a gruelling weekend.” His embrace tightened as he pressed his face into my hair. “You never said it before last night.”
“Hmmm?”
“On some level I knew, but it’s not the same as hearing it. Or being able to say it out loud.” He tucked a finger under my chin. “Tell me again.”
I stared at him. “What are you talking about?”
“What you said last night. Was that just in the moment? Those four bottles of wine speaking?”
Oh. Ohhhhh. Had I really never said those words out loud? I’d thought them plenty of times when we were together and even more often when we weren’t. They’d run through my head non-stop while I’d agonized over seeing him during this
