A Lie for a Lie (All In, #1)(74)

“Are you sure? Kody can get fussy around seven, and sometimes he’ll cry for an hour.”

Elaine gives Lainey a look. “I raised eight children. I’m practically immune to the sound of crying. Go have fun, enjoy each other’s company.”

Since the get-together, Simon has lightened up a bit, so I feel a lot less like I’m walking on eggshells.

I make a reservation at one of my favorite exclusive restaurants where I won’t get mobbed by fans.

One of the biggest challenges so far is finding time to be adults without an interruption. So we take the opportunity that’s offered. I throw on a pair of black pants, a button-down, and a tie while Lainey gives her parents an outline of Kody’s every need and want—including a rundown of possible atypical scenarios—until Elaine holds up a hand and tells her that she’s pretty sure she can handle one night with her infant grandson and not to rush back.

And with that, she ushers us out the door.

We stop at Lainey’s apartment so she can change into dinner-appropriate attire, since she didn’t have anything formal to wear at my place. While I wait, she offers me a glass of white wine, the only alcohol she has, apologizing for the lack of options since breastfeeding and booze don’t really go well together.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I’m just happy to have time with you—I don’t care about your wine selection.”

She disappears down the hall into her bedroom. I’d like to follow. The time with her parents has been good, but I’ve felt a lot like I’m back in high school being monitored. Beyond that, there really haven’t been any opportunities for actual privacy, and by the time everyone is in bed, we’re both exhausted.

So when Lainey appears in the hallway in a slinky black dress, asking me if I can help her zip it up, all the blood in my head rushes to the one south of my navel. The prospect of having to sit through dinner with a raging, potentially embarrassing erection is rather unappealing. And peeling her out of that dress and worshiping every inch of her becomes the only thought I can entertain.

“Rook?” Lainey snaps her fingers a couple of times.

“Huh?” She never uses my given name, so I must have missed something.

“Never mind. I’ll change into something else.”

“Wait. What? No. I don’t want you to change. You look stunning.”

She scoffs and self-consciously runs her hands over her stomach. “My body is different.”

“The only difference I see is up here.” I pat my pecs. “And I’m sure as hell not going to complain about that.”

“You might when I’m not breastfeeding anymore and they resemble sad mud flaps.”

I push out of the glider—they’re ridiculously comfy and soothing to sit in—and cross over to where she’s standing. “Enough with the self-deprecation. You’re gorgeous. End of story. My body doesn’t lie.” I motion to where my pants are snug at the crotch.

Lainey’s eyes dart down, and that blush I’ve missed so much colors her cheeks. She ducks her head. “You haven’t seen me naked in a while. Nothing is the same under here.”

“Is that an invitation, a challenge, or a statement of fact?”

She settles her palms on my chest, and for a moment I think she’s keeping me at bay, until she says, “Can it be all three?”

“I’ll accept the invitation and the challenge, but I don’t think it’s a statement of fact. Maybe you see yourself differently than I do.” I brush her hair over her shoulders, appreciating the slight tremor and her sharp inhalation as I move into her personal space.

“You’re blinded by the boobs.”

“They’re pretty incredible.” I ease a hand up her side. “But then, so is the rest of you.”

She steps into me and tips her head up. I don’t need more encouragement than that. I’ve kissed her on the cheek countless times in the past few weeks, but this isn’t the same. This is the first time I get to kiss her—really kiss her—since we said goodbye in Alaska.

I caress the edge of her jaw and sweep my thumb along the contour of her bottom lip, enjoying the anticipation before I drop my head and touch my lips to hers. A million memories come flooding back at her soft whimper and the bite of her nails against the back of my neck. And just like every single other kiss that’s had the intention of becoming more—and even the ones that didn’t—it starts out sweet. She tastes the same, feels the same—but better. She feels like mine and home and love.

I’m acutely aware that Kody isn’t here to act as an adorable cockblocker—that we’re very, very much alone—and all the tension that’s been driving me crazy seems to funnel right down into my pants.

Lainey pushes her hips into mine and moans softly. Her fingers slide into my hair and latch on, and her tongue sweeps out to tangle with mine. Two or three velvety swirls quickly devolve into no-holds-barred making out. Like we’re teenagers who dropped Ecstasy and can’t get enough of each other.

Lainey pulls at my shirt, freeing it from my dress pants, and her hands slide up and under, roaming over my back. Then she tugs at my belt buckle, freeing the clasp.

I break the kiss, and she freezes, fingers dipping into the waistband of my pants, close to my insanely hard erection. We stare at each other for a few seconds, panting.