The Do-Over(51)

“T, open your eyes,” Wes demanded.

Complying, I looked up at him, panting and moaning and fighting for my breath. With a smirk, the pressure he was applying to my clit intensified.

“Fuck,” I yelled out, my breath ragged. “Oh my God, Wes.”

At the sound of his name, he pulled me flush against him, groaning as his orgasm released in waves and he collapsed onto the bed next to me. Pulling me to him, Wes buried his face in my neck as he regained his breathing rhythm.

Like with everything else, the man who seemed to be totally in sync with me was also thoroughly sexually compatible. This hadn’t seemed like a first time, trying to figure out how to please your new lover, and sometimes failing miserably, but rather like making love to someone whose cravings and body you were already attuned to, bringing them to the heights of pleasure with the ease of a duet singing impeccable harmonies.

“Wes,” I whispered, holding onto him tightly, “Thank God we got a do-over.”





Chapter 17


“Taste this.”

Wes held up a wooden spoon of his Special Sunday sauce to my lips. Blowing on it to cool down the molten delicacy, I opened my mouth, accepting his offering.

“Oh my God, Wes. Where did you learn to cook Marinara sauce like this?” The complex depth of flavors had me wanting more. I didn’t need meatballs, pasta or garlic bread. I could eat this sauce like a bowl of soup or just pull my hair back and lower my face into the steaming pot – it was that good.

“From our next-door neighbors growing up, the Colucci’s. Their grandmother was from Sorrento and she lived with them. Every Sunday, Grandma Colucci made “gravy.” So, not only did I eat there on a lot of Sunday evenings, but I would hang out in the kitchen and watch her cook.”

Sticking a spoon in to steal another taste, I had it in my mouth before Wes could shoo me away. “This should be illegal. Too addicting.”

Leaning over to place a kiss on my lips, “You should be illegal.”

Laughing, “Why is that?”

“Because you’re intoxicating and addictive and I crave you.”

We’d been together for six straight nights and I couldn’t get enough of him either. I needed a constant fix. We’d made love throughout my apartment: bed, couch, rugs, shower, chairs. Texts throughout the work day had me hungering for his touch, yearning to touch him. I was riding a high so powerful that I was lost in my own fairytale. And that scared me. After two years of heartache, it was difficult to relax and to let go of the specter of the other shoe dropping. But then he’d touch me or I’d hear his voice and I was lost to the dream that I could possibly have a happily ever after with this loving, charismatic man.

“Chill out and enjoy it,” Laynie had yelled at me earlier in the week. “You’re too uptight, Tara, and you’re going to make this a self-fulfilling prophesy.”

I knew she was right.

“Hey, this might sound a little odd, and please feel free to say no. In two weeks, Scarlett’s camp does this combination end-of-the-season Parent’s Weekend along with camper pick-up, would you like to come with me for the weekend?”

Wes turned from stirring his pot. “Damn, I would love to and I’d love to see Scarlett, too. But I’ve got Julien returning that weekend and I’ve got to get him from the airport. Can’t wait to see Scarlett again after that, though.”

Julien returning. Crap. It had been so pleasant without the man, that I’d let myself forget he even existed in the last few days. Life without Julien in the picture was so much simpler.

“Bummer,” was all I said, trying not to give away anything. Two more weeks. I had two more weeks with Wes before that albatross showed up. Having no idea how he’d react to our coupling, I feared the worst. The man was a vindictive son of a bitch. And he hated me.

My gut told me he wasn’t going to play nice.



“Do you have summer allergies?” Stacy’s dry cough seemed to be getting the best of her the next time I picked her up for chemo.

“I do and I think the mold count is high today from all the rain last week. I have this stupid itch in my throat.”

“Ugh. I hate when that happens. I always feel like I want to take a metal coat hanger and get in there to scratch my throat,” I laughed.

“Well, that might be excessive.” Stacy coughed and looked out the window. “So what’s with you and my brother?”

Shrugging my shoulders, “I guess you could categorize it as we’re seeing each other.”

“Good,” Stacy nodded, coughing.

“Good?” I was shocked. Did Stacy Bergman just approve of me dating her brother? Did I hear that right?

She turned in her seat to look at me. “Yeah, good. You make him happy. You’ve always made him happy and I want Wes to be happy.”

“I want him to be happy too, Stace. He is truly a fine man and that is such a rarity in today’s world. He’s really very special.” And I meant that with all my heart. Just talking about him, I could feel the swelling in my chest. I knew I was in love with him. Deeply in love with him, although neither of us had yet uttered the words.

I also knew that my feelings for Wes were on a level so much deeper than what I’d felt for Frank. I had loved Frank, but not like this. With Wes, it was like he was intricately woven through my heart and soul in a way that could never be separated without irreparable damage being done. I knew, to my very core, that this was the person I was put on Earth to be a part of their life.