Chapter Thirty-six
Kenna
This entire night has been like living in a dream. We cooked and ate dinner together. Played games with Amelia. And then—and this is what really brought me to my knees—Carter read no less than five books to Amelia while we all snuggled in the blanket fort that we never broke down.
Not only didn’t we pack up the fort, Carter altered it so it’s open to the fireplace.
The unexpected bonus to setting it up that way is that the back of the fort faces the bedroom, which should give us a few extra moments to cover up should Amelia come out for a glass of water.
Not to mention the door to the bedroom squeaks—a built-in early warning system.
When I come out from settling Amelia into bed, I take in the room. In addition to starting a fire, he lit a dozen candles, arranged them on the mantle, and has a bottle of wine and a plate of dessert waiting.
It’s all so very romantic. Nobody has ever done anything like this for me.
I look down at my nothing-special shirt and jeans and sigh. “You’ve gone through so much trouble, and here I am looking like Plain Jane.”
He crosses the room, hunger in his eyes as if he’s been waiting all day… all week… for this very moment. He pulls me into his arms. “You look amazing.” He cups my chin. “You always look amazing.”
“Carter…”
“Shhh,” he whispers against my lips. “There will be time for that later.”
That.
Talking. Serious talking. About what Amelia said this morning. About my being here. About what’s going to happen tomorrow. Next week. The future.
Leading me to the new mouth of the fort over by the fireplace, he guides me down onto the air mattress just inside. He pours us each a glass of wine, then spoon-feeds me bites of cheesecake. When a piece of graham cracker crust sticks to my lips, he leans in and kisses it away.
Never has a man fed me before. I didn’t realize it could be so…
erotic. He looks into my eyes with each bite.
He teases the spoon against my lips. He watches my mouth as I chew.
He licks the spoon after it comes out of my mouth.
Everything he’s doing makes this a sensual whole-body experience that has me tingling from head to toe.
Yet I know this is just a precursor of things to come.
It’s been over a week since we’ve been together. With us being at the cabin and then Amelia and me getting sick, there just hasn’t been an opportunity. And I get the distinct idea he’s making up for lost time.
“God, you’re sexy,” he says as he pulls the spoon out of my mouth. “Do you know how hard I am right now just watching you eat?”
I grin, push the plate away, and climb on his lap, straddling him. “I don’t know.” I wiggle my hips. “Care to show me?”
His brows shoot up and his eyes sparkle, reflecting the light of the fire. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
I giggle as we start tearing at each other’s clothes.
It doesn’t take long until we’ve stripped each other naked.
I expect him to dive right in. Devour my mouth, my breasts.
Take what he’s been waiting for all week.
But he doesn’t. He motions to a pile of blankets to my right. “In case we need to cover up quickly.”
This man. He thinks of everything. He takes care of everything. He takes care of me.
I’ve thought about things a lot today. About my feelings for him. About Amelia’s. About the secrets I’ve kept and am still keeping. About how forthcoming he’s been with me. About how I should trust him. Because deep down, I know he’s different. I think I’ve known from the beginning.
Tell him.
I inhale deeply, my nerves prickling, and blow out a long breath. “Carter, there’s something I have to tell you.”
His fingers press against my lips and he shakes his head. “Nothing you tell me will change the way I feel about you.”
“But,” I say against his fingers.
He withdraws his hand and replaces it with his lips, kissing away any words that were to come.
I get lost in his kiss like it’s the very first one.
Like we haven’t already kissed a hundred times.
Like it’s not only our first kiss, but my first kiss.
As if no man has ever kissed me before. Because being with Carter isn’t like being with any other man.
Being with him brings a sense of euphoria.
Safety and completeness. Happiness and fulfillment.
Being with him is like discovering heaven.
“There’s something I have to tell you too,” he whispers against my mouth.
He pulls back and looks into my eyes, and I instantly know what he has to tell me.
He’s going to say he loves me. But unlike the others who’ve said it before, he’s going to mean it.
He’s going to mean it with every look. Every kiss.
Every delicate touch. And he’s not only going to say he loves me, he’s going to say he loves my daughter.
And I know with every fiber of my being that he’ll mean that too.
Because over the course of only four short weeks, he’s become more of a father to Amelia than any man has.
I wait for the words to come, but they don’t. Instead, he says, “But right now, all I want to do is make love to you.”
My body quivers underneath him. I’m relieved he didn’t say it.
Because I really want to make love with him too, and if he said those words to me right now, I fear I’d crumble into a ball of gooey emotions.
There’s already this powerful, magnetic, physical and emotional charge between us.
It deepens my desire. Heightens my senses.
The energy between us is practically a life force of its own.
And as his lips find mine once again, I know one thing to be true.
I don’t want to spend another minute away from him.
I don’t want there to be thirty miles between us, let alone a thousand.
I push aside the intrusive thought that warns me that staying here could endanger him.
Endanger Christian. There has to be a way to make it work.
There has to be. Because suddenly, I realize living my life without them would not be living at all.
I pull him harder against me, wanting nothing between us. No secrets. No ex-husbands. No air.
As if he understands the emotional turmoil I’m experiencing, he draws close to my ear. “It’s going to be okay, Kenna. Trust me.” He pulls back. “Do you? Trust me?”
I stare up into his eyes and nod. The sigh that escapes his lips tells me I’ve just given him the gift he’s wished for. His eyes become glassy. I grip the sides of his head with my hands and reaffirm with words, “With all my heart.”
His eyes close briefly. “Thank you,” he says, right before making love to me with such intensity I know neither of our lives will ever be the same.