Blow(67)

“No, Logan.” Elle shook her head and without taking Clementine, took a step back.

My hand grabbed her wrist and tugged her closer. Clementine was oblivious as she stared out the window with both hands on the glass now. With a need I couldn’t explain, I kissed her.

Maybe sensing it was coming, Elle didn’t open her mouth for me. It didn’t stop me from kissing her. My lips parted and I gusted hot breaths over her mouth. I urged her closer with the hand that held her in place. She didn’t struggle to get away. With the tip of my wet tongue, I probed between her lips until she couldn’t fight it and opened her mouth to let me in.

The kiss was harder than it should have been, and when my tongue swept inside her mouth she moved even closer.

I almost felt as if she was shaking.

Elle suddenly jerked her wrist from my grip but didn’t move away. “No, Logan, we can’t,” she said softly, our mouths still so close they almost touched with each word she spoke.

I pulled my head back a little so I could see her. “Why not?”

I knew why I shouldn’t be with her, but not why she thought she shouldn’t be with me—that’s what I needed to know.

Her eyes closed for half a heartbeat. “Because I can’t think straight when we’re this close.”

I wanted to respond with something witty like I can think for the both of us, but I knew humor wasn’t the answer. I reached inside myself to figure out what was, but before I could determine that, I was interrupted.

Little hands reached out. “Momma.”

With a proud look, Elle took Clementine.

I stared open-mouthed at what she’d just called Elle.

Elle fidgeted a little and said, “She was with her cousins yesterday and is in a phase where she repeats everything she hears. They called for their mother all day, so now she’s doing it. It will pass.”

I nodded, not so sure about that. Not that I knew anything about kids, but Clementine looked at Elle like she was her mother and Elle looked at Clementine as though she liked it. I felt a sharp pang of hurt when I thought about what would happen when Elle’s sister returned.

“Ready to go?” Elle asked, strapping Clementine into the stroller.

She’d put as much distance between us as she could as fast as she could.

I zipped up my sweatshirt, pulled my hat on, and slid on my sunglasses. “Yeah, let me push that,” I said, indicating the folding contraption she had set Clementine in.

Every muscle in my body flexed as soon as we hit the sidewalk. It was one thing to be alone with Elle; it was entirely another to be out in public. I could feel the thudding in my chest. My fingers were white knuckled wrapped around the handles of the stroller. When a gust of wind blew across my neck, I stiffened even more. With a glance from side to side, I quickly pushed across the street and toward the entrance to the Garden. Making sure Elle could keep up, I stopped and took her hand, placing it with mine on the stroller handle, and she didn’t pull away.

I liked the warmth of her skin near mine.

As soon as we hit one of the entrances and entered the Public Garden, I felt a wave of relief. We looked like every other couple out for a Sunday morning walk to enjoy the breaking weather and admire the early buds of the magnolia trees.

Slowing the pace, I stopped at the first monument we came across.

“William Ellery Channing,” Elle read and glanced at me.

“He was one of our country’s foremost Unitarian ministers.”

She raised a quizzical brow.

I pushed forward. “Hey, I had to come here every year on school field trips. Whether I cared to know or not, I had to learn the name of every monument and why they’re here.”

She laughed.

I liked the sound.

We strolled a bit and stopped at the 9/11 memorial. Knowing that needed no explanation, I let her glance at it for a moment and I looked too. When she was ready, she urged me forward.

I noticed something about Elle: if we pretended to be two people getting to know one another and let go of all the shit that was really going on, she was relaxed. Sure, the sexual tension was still there, but I knew that wasn’t going anywhere no matter what we did unless what we were doing was f*cking, which we weren’t. Even now, the way my skin felt heated where her hand was touching mine, I knew she felt it as much as I did.

She leaned in closer when I veered toward the footbridge.

I pointed. “Look, Clementine, the ducks.”

The excitement in my voice had Elle’s head snapping toward me in surprise.

I shrugged. “What? I can’t be excited about ducks?”

She laughed. “I like this side of you.”

I looked at her with an eyebrow slightly tilted. Quizzical. “There’s no other side of me.”

She let her thumb slip around mine, and I felt the intimacy of this minor connection almost as if she’d wrapped her arms around me. “If you say so, but just so you know, I think it’s cute.”

Just yards from the base of the bridge, I stopped and gave her a chaste kiss. It was as if I was compelled. I couldn’t help myself. When we started walking again, I watched the rise and fall of her shoulders as she tried to catch her breath. We affected each other in the most intense way. I, too, had to intentionally relax my breathing.

The three of us stood in the middle of the footbridge and gazed over the railing for the longest time. The joy Clementine radiated at seeing the ducks was contagious, and something inside me had me pulling Elle closer as the little girl stood between us.