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  She laughed a little, low and deep at the back of her throat. “You might change your mind when you see what I’m wearing under this dress.”

  I groaned, moving her hair aside so I could kiss her neck, and she tilted her head. Her skin was warm and satin smooth under my tongue. My hands moved over her breasts, down her stomach and up the sides of her thighs before undoing the little belt at her waist. Then I worked my way up the buttons on her chest. When they were undone, she turned to face me, raising her arms. I lifted the dress from the hem up over her head and tossed it onto a chair near the window.

  When I saw what she was wearing, my eyes nearly popped out of my head. My dick, already hard, twitched excitedly in my pants. “Oh my God. You’re so fucking hot. Don’t move, I need to turn a light on.”

  “I’ve got it.” She went over to the lamp by the chair and switched it on, turning her skin from ivory to gold, her lingerie from black to red, and my desire from hot to molten. She walked toward me again in her heels. “Like it?”

  All I could do was nod. She took my breath away.

  She smiled as she reached me and twined her arms around my neck, pressing close. “Good. Now let’s not waste any more time.”

  Fuck, it was hard not to rush—knowing we only had a couple hours made us anxious to take advantage of every minute. I swear to God she wanted me inside her for every one of them, she begged and pleaded, teased and tempted. She used her hands, her mouth, her voice, her breasts, her hips, her hair, even her little red-painted toes to drive me wild. I held off as long as I could, because I knew once I was buried within her, there would be no holding back. And as desperate as I was to give her what she wanted—what we both wanted—I was just as determined to savor every single moment. I wanted to slow down, commit everything to memory. The sight of her lying back against snow-white sheets. The feel of that lace against my lips. The sound of her uninhibited cry of abandon as I brought her to orgasm, first with my fingers, then with my tongue.

  She protested the second one. “No, stop,” she panted, trying to pull me up. “I want to come together. I feel so close to you when that happens.”

  “We will,” I promised, kissing a path up her inner thigh.

  “Not if you do it with your mouth next. I can’t come three times.”

  “Want to bet?” I’d settled between her legs, ready to test her limits with my skill. For good measure, I’d used my hand again too, and she’d come within minutes, bucking wildly beneath me on the bed, her fingers clenching the sheets.

  “Nate,” she whimpered afterward, her skin warm and damp, her breath short and quick. “Please. Please. I need to be that close to you.”

  I lifted my head from between her thighs, her taste lingering on my tongue, and moved up her body. I needed it too. Emotionally, maybe I couldn’t give her all of me, but physically I’d give her everything and beyond. I wanted to do things for her and with her I’d never done before, and maybe it was because I felt guilty about closing off other parts of myself, but maybe, maybe this was the only language I spoke fluently. The only way I could convince her of what she meant to me.

  I knew I should get up and get a condom, but I didn’t. I paused right before entering her, and we locked eyes. She knew what I was asking.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s what I want, too. And we’re safe.”

  As insane as it sounds, I felt safe. Safe and strong and powerful. Protective and protected. And I realized, as I began to move inside her, our hands clasped above her head, her legs wrapped around me, what it truly meant to trust someone. After my childhood, I’d lost the ability to trust, and she’d brought it back.

  Feelings for her overwhelmed me. With my eyes pinned on hers, I watched her spiral upward once more, watched her surrender to everything she felt and all the passion she evoked in me. I saw agony and pleasure intertwine on her face, felt her body tense beneath me, listened to her say my name, softly at first and then louder, louder, louder, until she was shouting and gasping and wrenching her hands free to pull me in deeper and deeper as she came and I held nothing back, gave her everything, everything, everything I had, felt it flowing from me into her, my body, my heart, my soul, my trust.

  I fell on top of her, and rolled to my side, taking her with me. We kissed and clung to one another, my mind a mad jumble of unspoken thoughts I wanted to give voice to but couldn’t. There were so many things I needed to tell her. But my head—it was spinning. Or was that the room? The world? The universe?

  I needed something to anchor me in the chaos that had become my life. I needed to feel like I was going to be okay. Because this room, this private little corner of heaven, wasn’t ours to keep. We had to turn the key in when we left, and we had to leave soon. And out there, nothing was certain. I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t know who to become.

  I didn’t know how to let myself love someone.

  But maybe it was time to try.

  “What time is it?” she whispered. We were lying on our sides, facing each other on the bed, our legs still twined.

  I picked up my head and looked at the digital clock on the nightstand behind her. “Almost eleven.”

  She sighed. “I don’t want to go.”

  “I don’t either.”

  “But we should.”

  “Yes.”

  She started to get up and I put a hand on her shoulder. “Wait one minute. There’s something I want to tell you.”

  She stretched out again with her head on the pillow, her hands tucked beneath her cheek. “Okay.”

  For a moment, I panicked. How did you tell a girl you were falling in love with her? That she was part of what was changing your world—and you—for the better? That you might be an emotionally stunted, jaded divorce lawyer and completely inept as a dad and boyfriend, but there was a good reason for that and you were going to try harder to deserve her faith and trust?

  No. That was no good.

  I had to go back to the beginning.

  I reached for one of her hands and took it in mine between us, just like she’d done to me the first night she’d slept over. My first night with Paisley. She hadn’t abandoned me then, and I hoped she wouldn’t now.

  “I lied to you,” I said.

  She blinked, her expression blank. “What?”

  “I lied to you. About not having any siblings. I had a brother.”

  “You did?”

  I nodded, my throat closing. “His name was Adam.”

  “What happened?”

  “He died when he was seven. Leukemia. I was twelve.”

  Her eyes grew shiny. “Oh, Nate.”

  “It pretty much destroyed me. It destroyed all of us.” I wiped at my eyes with a thumb and forefinger.

  “Of course it did. I don’t know how you get over something like that.”

  “You don’t.”

  “Were you close?” she asked softly.

  I nodded, unable to speak.

  “Best friends, probably. Like my sisters and me.”

  After a moment, I found my voice by thinking about pain other than mine. “We’d been a perfectly normal, happy family before that. And then afterward…my mother developed her obsessive fears about germs and crowds and touching things. She blamed them for Adam’s death—of course, that wasn’t the truth. What she really blamed was herself. But she couldn’t handle that. She tried to externalize it. It was the only way to deal with her grief and guilt. Eventually she disappeared into her fears. The mother I’d known was gone.”

  Emme nodded and wiped her eyes. “What about your dad?”

  “He drank his sorrow. Abandoned us emotionally if not physically. He died of heart disease three years ago but the man I remember as Dad was gone long before that.”

  “And you?” she asked, another tear slipping from the corner of her eye. “How did you cope? You lost everyone, didn’t you?”

  My throat seized up again. I focused on our joined hands. “I promised myself I w
ould never love anyone that much again.”

  “Of course you did.”

  “I wanted to protect myself. I thought if I never loved anyone like that, I couldn’t get hurt again. I wouldn’t have to be afraid.”

  A few more tears trickled from her eyes.

  “It’s why I’ve never wanted to have a relationship. Why I’ve never wanted to get married. Why I never even considered being a father.”

  She nodded. “And now?”

  “Now there’s Paisley.” I took a breath. “And I love her more every day. It’s like my love for Adam was—pure and simple and effortless. Unconditional. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing as a father, but I love her and I’m trying.”

  “It’s enough, Nate.” She brushed my hair off my forehead. “You’re doing more than a lot of guys would in your shoes.”

  “It’s not enough. It’ll never feel like enough. Because it will never make up for the fact that I didn’t want her.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “I feel so fucking guilty about that.”

  “Stop.” She propped her head up on her hand. “You don’t have to feel guilty about that. You would have wanted her if you’d known.”

  I opened my eyes and stared at her.

  “Okay, maybe not right away, but…” She grabbed my hand again. “You would have been excited eventually. Look at you now, after only two weeks. Can you imagine your life without her?”

  “Frankly, yes. It’s my old life. I fucking miss it. I mean, I don’t want to give her up, but I miss it. I miss me, who I was—I wasn’t afraid of anything. I was on top of the world. Now it’s spinning out of control around me, and I’m a fucking mess.”

  “You aren’t,” she said fiercely. “Not to me, you aren’t.”

  It made me smile a little. “No?”

  “No.” She sat all the way up. “You’re brave. And strong. And sexy. Hearing you admit the truth and talk about your fears tonight makes me want you even more. You’re a good man, Nate Pearson. Paisley is damn lucky to have you. And so am I.”

  I looked up at her. “You do have me.”

  A pause. “Do I?”

  I sat up and took her face in my hands, praying to God—if there was one—she’d understand what I was saying to her. “You have me, Emme.”

  She turned her head so one cheek rested in my palm. “You have me, too.”

  I glanced at the clock, hoping against all odds the numbers hadn’t changed, or even better, had gone backward. No luck—but… “Hey,” I said. “Look what time it is.”

  She turned her head and gasped. “Eleven eleven!”

  “Go ahead. Make your wish.”

  She looked at me again for a moment, squeezed her eyes shut like she was concentrating hard, then exhaled and opened them. “Your turn.”

  I sighed exaggeratedly. “Do I have to?”

  “Yes. You know my rule!”

  “Fine.” I remembered the first wish I’d made at 11:11 PM, when we’d been in my kitchen exactly two weeks ago. That night I’d wished that the next person Emme fell in love with would love her back like she deserved and make her happy.

  Now I looked at her hopeful, smiling, beautiful face and made it different.

  I wish I could be the one.

  Fifteen

  Emme

  “Did you have a good time?” Stella looked up from her phone from where she sat on the couch. Maren sat on the opposite end reading a magazine.

  “Yes.” I smiled blissfully. “Thank you so much.”

  “How was she?” Nate went over to the monitor on the kitchen counter and peered at the screen.

  “An angel,” said Maren, tucking the magazine into the shoulder bag at her feet. “She got a little fussy after you left and she found herself with two strangers, but she quieted down eventually and she took her bottle with no problem. We got her to sleep around ten or so.”

  “I can’t thank you enough,” Nate said as my sisters stood up and gathered up their things. He went into the kitchen for a moment and came out with two bottles of wine in his hands. “These are for you.”

  “That’s so nice of you, but it’s totally not necessary.” Stella smiled at him as she slipped her sweater on.

  “Please take them.” Nate held the bottles out. “You have no idea how much I appreciate the favor.”

  It took a little more cajoling, but eventually each of my sisters left with a bottle of wine tucked under her arm. When the door was closed behind them, he turned to me and pulled me into his arms. “Thank you so much for arranging for them to be here. I had such a good time tonight.”

  “Me too. Thank you for the perfect date.” I wrapped my arms around his waist and lay my head on his shoulder.

  “Your sisters are great.”

  “They are. I mean, they can drive me crazy, but I adore them.”

  “How do they drive you crazy?”

  “Oh, the usual stuff. Stella is the oldest so she can be a bit of a know-it-all. Add to that she’s a therapist, so she sometimes treats me like one of her patients and tries to analyze my behavior. It’s so annoying. And Maren can drive me nuts with all her organic foods and meditation techniques and spiritual wellness. I get that clean living is good, but there are some things I like dirty.” I giggled. “Like martinis and sex.”

  “Thank God for that.” He kissed the top of my head. “Which one has the bee man for a boyfriend?”

  “Stella. But I don’t know that she’d actually call Walter her boyfriend. They don’t even have sex.”

  “They don’t?”

  “No, it’s totally weird to Maren and me, but they don’t. And she says she’s fine with that.”

  “What about him?”

  I shrugged. “I assume he’s fine with it too.”

  “I cannot imagine any guy being fine with a relationship where there is no sex. But maybe that’s just me.”

  “Stella always goes for more intellectual types because she likes guys who are smart, but then there never seems to be that physical thing between them.”

  “I’m intellectual,” said Nate. “I like sex.”

  I laughed. “But you don’t like relationships.”

  “Well, I never have before.”

  I leaned back a little and looked up at him. “And now?”

  “Now there’s you.” He touched his lips to mine. “Want to stay over tonight? At the risk of sounding like Walter, we don’t have to have sex. I only want to be close to you.”

  My entire body warmed. “How am I supposed to say no to that? Just let me run home and get ready for bed. I’ll come back over.”

  “Okay. You’ve got the key?”

  I smiled. “I’ve got the key.”

  After one more kiss, I went to my apartment, changed out of my dress and into a little white camisole and some pajama pants, over which I threw a big fluffy pink robe. I took off my jewelry, washed my face, and brushed my teeth. My hair was mussed and considerably less voluminous than when I’d left home earlier, but I left it alone. We were only going to sleep, anyway. I hurried down the stairs and across the hall in my bare feet and let myself back into Nate’s apartment, where I found him feeding Paisley on the couch. He still wore his dress pants, but only his undershirt on top and his feet were bare.

  “She woke up, huh?” I dropped down beside him, cuddling close to his side and tucking my legs beneath me.

  “Yeah, when I went up there to change. But it’s good timing—maybe she’ll give us a solid four or five hour stretch after this.”

  I kissed his shoulder. “I can do the next feeding so you can sleep through the night for a change.”

  “That’s okay. I didn’t invite you over to help me with her. And I don’t mind doing it—kind of helps me feel like I’m making up for missing the first two months of her life.”

  Smiling, I looked at the baby in his arms. “You have certainly come a long way since the night you fainted at the sight of her.”

  “I didn’t faint,” he said stubbornly. “I…fell over in surprise.”


  “I think that’s called fainting, babe.”

  “Not at all. There’s a clear difference.”

  Laughing a little, I patted his leg. “Okay. Anyway, you’ve made lots of progress.”

  He was quiet for a minute as he watched her take the bottle. “Sometimes it still doesn’t seem real. That I have a child. A daughter.”

  “It was quite a shock.”

  “I didn’t think I could do this. Be a father.”

  “I know.”

  “And it wasn’t just that I didn’t know how to take care of her. I didn’t think I could love her the way a father should love his child.”

  Chills ran down my arms, despite the fact that I was wrapped in my giant fleece robe. “And now?”

  “Now I’m blown away by how quickly and completely I fell in love with her. I didn’t think it was possible for me to feel that way at all, let alone so fast. It shocks me.” He swallowed. “And scares me.”

  “I’m sure it does. Given what you told me earlier, it can’t be easy to allow yourself to love like that without fear. You’ve been protecting yourself for so long. But Nate, all that time, you were also denying yourself the joy of loving someone. Yes, love makes you vulnerable to hurt, but it also makes you happy. Don’t you think?”

  “I guess.”

  It troubled me to think love was still something he feared. “Aren’t you happy?”

  He looked at me and gave me a little smile. “When I’m with you, I am.”

  My heart quickened. “Good. I like making you happy.”

  He gave me a kiss before looking down at Paisley again. “Life is just so different now, you know? What makes me happy has changed so much. I hardly recognize myself.”

  I put my arm around him and laid my head on his shoulder. “Well, I like the changes in you. I know you probably feel like a stranger to yourself, but I think this person who’s capable of so much love was always there inside you. Waiting to be set free.”