Unbreakable (Cloverleigh Farms, #4)(58)

“Okay.”

I leaned over and kissed his head. “See you in the morning.”

“Night.”

Inside my room, I shut my door and flopped face down on my bed, wanting to believe I’d earned at least a B+ in parenting tonight, but feeling like shit for lying so blatantly to Whitney. It’s not like I didn’t understand her fears.

But being with Henry was the one thing I was doing for myself. Was it too much to ask to start the new year with something I was excited about? A little promise of hope that maybe I wouldn’t be so fucking lonely all the time?

Hope is something you can’t afford, scoffed that bitchy inner voice. Just where do you think this thing with Henry can go, anyway? How long do you think you’ll be able to hold his interest? You should put the brakes on now while you still can. For your sake, and for the kids’.

“Shut up,” I said into my pillow. “Just shut up.”

Maybe the voice was right and I should put the brakes on, but like a child, I didn’t wanna.

I just didn’t fucking wanna.





Sixteen





Henry





Believe it or not, I’d planned to keep my hands off her on New Year’s Eve.

Not because I felt any less attracted to her—if anything, I wanted her more every day—but because her entire family was going to be there, I still felt anxious about what her daughter suspected, and I didn’t want Sylvia to think all I wanted from her was physical gratification.

The first night she’d come to my house, it had been a lot about the sex, but over the last few days, things had shifted somewhat, at least for me. I wanted to know her more deeply. I wanted to spend time with her doing everyday things and making her laugh. I wanted to learn her expressions and smiles and sighs. And as ridiculous and juvenile as it sounded, I wanted to take her somewhere and hold her hand. Buy her dinner. Be the guy who got to put his arm around the back of her chair.

Be the guy who made her happy.

I knew that would take time, and it surprised me that I even believed myself capable of it after my marriage had disintegrated so spectacularly, but something about her wouldn’t let me be.

I was ready to move on, and I wanted it to be with her. But what if she wasn’t?

If we got a chance to talk quietly during the party, I was hoping to tell her how I felt—that I wanted more than just no-strings sex on the side. And I wanted to deliver the message while we were fully clothed and—at least mostly—sober, so that there wouldn’t be any confusion. I could keep my hands to myself for the night, couldn’t I?

Of course I could. If I was the kind of guy who was worthy of her, I could be a respectable gentleman for one night.

And then I saw her in that skirt.

It was short. And tight. And mesmerizing.

It was the color of champagne and sparkled as she moved, almost like a disco ball. Sylvia wasn’t tall, but her bare legs looked endless beneath that glittering little skirt. On top she wore a loose-fitting white blouse with long sleeves that draped into a V at her chest, barely hinting at the curves I knew were underneath. I saw her standing near the appetizer table, sipping a glass of something bubbly and talking with Chloe, and the sight of her stopped me in my tracks. My confidence in my ability to behave respectably wavered.

She saw me, and her lips curved into that slow, secret smile that made my ears feel like they were burning and my neck feel like the knot in my tie was too tight. Eventually someone bumped into me, and I realized I hadn’t started walking again yet. Trying not to tug at my shirt collar, I moved toward her.

“Hi, Henry. Happy New Year!” she said, opening her arm as if to embrace me. She wasn’t wearing the bright red lipstick tonight, but her lips shimmered with something that made them look like sugar-coated peaches.

Respectable gentleman. Respectable gentleman. Respectable gentleman.

“Happy New Year.” I leaned forward and kissed her cheek, then did the same to Chloe. “Where’s Oliver?”

“Around here somewhere.” Chloe waved a hand in the air. “He’s trying to convince my dad to let him shoot off fireworks at midnight. I told him it’s never going to happen. Sparklers are about as crazy as my father has ever let us get.”

“Oh, shoot!” Sylvia snapped her fingers. “I forgot the bag with the sparklers in it for the kids! I left it on the counter at home. Think I have time to go get them?”

“Dinner is about to be served,” said Chloe, “but you’ll have time before midnight for sure.”

“Okay. Don’t let me forget.”

Her ass in that skirt sort of reminded me of sparklers. Dazzling. Fiery hot. Slightly dangerous. I glanced at the bar. “I’m going to grab something to drink. Can I get either of you anything?”

“I’m good.” Chloe touched Sylvia’s arm. “I’m going to find April and make sure everything is running smoothly.”

“Sounds good,” Sylvia said. “Let me know if she needs anything.” Once Chloe had wandered into the crowd, she turned to me. “I’ll come with you. I could use a refill.”

“Okay.” I wished I could take her arm as we walked toward the bar at the back of the room, but even though the party was in full swing and the room was packed with guests of the inn who had no idea who we were, I still didn’t feel right about it.