Chapter 10

Ten

J ane

After I put the baby to bed, I come out of the back bedroom and Henry is standing by the door.

“Hi,” I say.

“I didn’t want to leave without saying goodnight,” he says, one hand resting on the doorknob.

Some hidden muscles tremble in between my legs in response to his voice. Why does “goodnight” sound so much more intimate than saying goodbye?

This is it , I decide. I’m saying thank you properly. I wrap my arms around his middle before I second-guess myself.

“Thank you, Henry.”

His arms settle around me. When he speaks, I can feel the vibrations in his chest against mine. “You won’t be thanking me when this grease monkey gets your clean clothes all dirty.”

I turn my face and catch his lips in a soft kiss—soft, but less tentative than earlier in the barn. His mouth tastes salty, his lips feel warm and responsive. His body answers by squeezing me closer to him and pressing his lips firmly against mine.

We break from the kiss; he smiles with his eyes and rubs the side of his thumb against his lip. “I’m so glad you did that,” he says.

“Me too,” I say. “And thank you for everything.”

I kiss him again, this time with more pressure. As my eyes drift closed, I feel his rough hand against my cheek.

When we break apart again, he says, “It was my pleasure. Now, it’s really my pleasure.”

I smile as my eyes travel over his face. “You have no idea what these little things mean to me. The simple kindness of letting me enjoy a hot meal without having to fuss over and clean up after Sarah—you have no idea how huge that is.”

He strokes my cheek with his rough thumb, and it lights up my skin. “You don’t need to thank me, but I’m glad you did.”

This time, I wait for him to kiss me. Henry angles his face and presses his lips against mine with a hunger that was only in his eyes before. He swipes my lip with the tip of his tongue, trying, testing to see if I will open to him. I do and let our tongues do what they do. It’s two perfectly matched parts coming together, wrestling, tasting, enjoying, and playing. His playful, slow kisses both thrill me and comfort me. He’s the kind of kisser who wants to make sure I enjoy every moment. My world has become soft and still and warm and wonderful. All I can see, taste, hear and smell is Henry. The saltiness of his sweat from hard work and the soft bristles on his chin combine to give me the ultimate tingles.

The kissing goes on for I don’t know how long, but a long time.

I want to grab him and take him back to my bed, but I also remember telling myself I need to take it slow for my own good. For Sarah’s good. If we rush this thing, she’ll get too attached, and then if things end, she’ll be devastated. I’ll be crushed if I ruin things with a guy like this.

He somehow senses my inner conflict. I don’t know how he does it.

“I should probably go,” he says. “I’ll be honest, I don’t want to. I could stay and kiss you all night.”

“I could too. But this place is so small, and I don’t want to wake up Sarah.”

He lifts one cocky eyebrow. “Oh, what are we gonna do that might wake her up?”

I stifle a snort. “Ass.”

He smiles and plays with my hair. I’m so tired I could fall asleep standing up while he does that.

“We have a big day tomorrow,” I say with a grin. “And you need a shower.”

“Can I call you later tonight? I kind of like the idea of talking to you while I get ready for bed.”

I bite my lip. “I’d like to hear your voice too.”

Henry plants one more soft kiss on my lips, then on my cheeks and then on my forehead, and he’s out the door.

I usually listen to podcasts to entertain me while I clean up the kitchen, but this time, I completely forget about them. Instead, I pad around the kitchen, cleaning up dishes, wiping down surfaces, and packing up leftovers from the living room, all with a stupid, dopey grin on my face.