Chapter 5
Terry found himself checking his phone obsessively throughout the day, waiting for Sandra's lunch break text or the brief call that had become part of their routine.
Weeks of stolen moments over coffee meetings that turned into lingering conversations and heated kisses in her kitchen had only made him hungrier for more time with her.
The woman was driving him crazy in the best possible way.
"Captain, you're distracted," Jeremy observed during their afternoon briefing, not bothering to hide his amusement. "Everything okay?"
"Fine," Terry replied, perhaps too quickly. Pete and Jeremy exchanged knowing looks that Terry chose to ignore.
At the end of the workday, his phone buzzed with a text from Sandra. Court wrapped early. Coffee?
Terry typed back. Your place? More private.
The three dots appeared immediately, followed by Yes!
"I need to follow up on a lead," Terry announced, grabbing his jacket. "See you both tomorrow."
"Must be some lead," Pete muttered while shutting down his computer.
Terry was already out the door and just tossed a chin lift over his shoulder.
Sandra's house had become his favorite destination besides his own.
Hers was a haven of warmth and quiet that contrasted sharply with the controlled chaos of his own home.
When she opened the door, still wearing her court attire but with her hair falling loose around her shoulders, a familiar desire swept through him.
"How did the hearing go?" he asked, following her into the kitchen and immediately moving into her space, his hands finding her waist.
"Victory!" She leaned into him with a satisfied smile. "Mr. Henderson gets to keep his disability benefits, and his caseworker gets a formal reprimand for trying to intimidate him."
"That's my brilliant lawyer." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "Fighting the good fight."
"I give it my best." She laughed, turning in his arms.
The reminder of their conversation from when she offered assurance that she was staying on the Shore still made Terry's chest tight with relief and something deeper he wasn't quite ready to name.
"Good," he said before lowering his head to capture her mouth in a kiss that started gentle and quickly became something more urgent.
Sandra melted against him, her hands fisting in his shirt as she kissed him back with the kind of enthusiasm that made his pulse race. Weeks of careful restraint, of limiting themselves to brief encounters that couldn't go too far, had left them both hungry for more.
Her breath whispered against his mouth. "We should probably—"
"Talk," he finished, though he made no move to step away from her. "I know. But first..."
Kissing her again, deeper this time, he backed her against the kitchen counter until she was trapped between his body and the cool granite. Sandra's legs parted instinctively, allowing him to step closer, and when her hands slid up to tangle in his hair, he felt his control starting to fray.
"This is dangerous." She moaned, but her actions contradicted her words as she pulled him down for another kiss.
"Why?"
"Because I don't want to stop."
Terry's hands tightened on her waist, desire flooding through him at her honest admission. "Then don't."
They moved to her living room as one, both falling onto her couch with urgency.
Terry had been careful to keep their physical relationship from moving too fast, aware that he came with complications most women weren't prepared for.
But with Sandra's hands roaming over his chest and her mouth hot against his neck, careful restraint felt increasingly impossible.
"I've been thinking about this," she confessed, her fingers working at the buttons of his shirt. "About you. Constantly."
He groaned, capturing her mouth again as his hands explored the curves hidden beneath her professional attire. "Sandra, if we're going to slow down, we need to do it now."
"What if I don't want to slow down?"
The question hung between them, loaded with implication. Terry pulled back to study her face, seeing desire and certainty in her eyes.
"Are you sure?" His voice was rougher than he'd intended.
A soft smile graced her lips. "I'm sure about you. About this."
They lost track of the rushed minutes on her couch as hands and mouths explored with increasing desperation. His shirt was unbuttoned, and her fingers danced along his bare torso. She was now naked from the waist up, his mouth and hands covering her breasts.
Suddenly, his phone rang with the harsh reminder that he had other responsibilities.
Toby's ringtone cut through the haze of desire like a bucket of cold water.
"Shit," Terry muttered as he reluctantly disentangled from Sandra's arms. "I have to take this.
" Answering, he tried to slow his breathing, “Toby, you okay?”
"Dad? I forgot my cleats for soccer practice after school!"
He closed his eyes, inwardly chuckling at his son’s impeccable timing. "I’ll run home and get them to you. Okay?"
"Thanks, Dad!"
"But Toby…" Terry began, catching Sandra's understanding smile from across the couch. "We need to work on your organization before school."
After disconnecting, he turned to find Sandra back in her bra and already buttoning her blouse, her expression amused rather than offended.
"Rain check?" she asked, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
"Definitely," Terry replied, meaning it. "Sandra, I need to ask you something."
"Okay."
Terry ran his hand through his hair, suddenly nervous despite everything they'd just shared. "How do you feel about meeting Emma and Toby?"
Her eyes widened slightly. "I'd love to meet them. Whenever you're ready to take that step."
"That's just it. I don't know when I'll be ready," Terry admitted. "I've never introduced them to anyone I've dated. Hell, I haven't really dated anyone seriously enough for introductions."
"What's different now?" Her question came out soft and gentle.
Studying her face, he spied patience and understanding where he'd feared pressure or judgment. "You are. This is. I've never felt like this about anyone, Sandra, and that terrifies me because if this doesn't work out..."
"Hey." She moved closer, her hands framing his face. "We don't have to figure everything out today. When you're ready, we'll figure it out together."
Her simple acceptance made his chest tight with emotion he couldn’t name. "I haven't told them about you yet," he confessed.
"I didn't expect you had. This is all new, Terry. We're still finding our way."
"I know what we are," he said quietly. "The question is whether you're ready for what that means."
Sandra's smile was radiant. "Try me."
A week later, Terry called her from his office, anticipation making his pulse race. "The kids are going to Patricia's this weekend. Friday night through Sunday afternoon."
"That's nice," she murmured, though he could hear the question in her voice. "I'm sure they're excited to see their mom."
"They are. But Sandra..." He paused, suddenly feeling like a teenager asking for his first sleepover. "I was hoping you might want to spend the weekend with me. The whole weekend."
The silence stretched long enough to make him wonder if he'd overstepped or pushed too hard, too fast.
"Terry," Sandra said finally, her voice soft with something that might have been relief. "I thought you'd never ask."
"Is that a yes?"
"That's absolutely a yes. Your place or mine?"
"Mine," he answered immediately. "I want you in my bed. I want to wake up next to you and not have to worry about leaving early or keeping quiet or any of the other complications we've been dancing around."
Sandra's breath caught audibly. "You're very direct when you want something, Captain."
"I want you," he said simply. "More than I've wanted anything in a very long time."
"Then you'll have me." Her voice carried a promise that made his pulse race. "The whole weekend."
As he hung up, he felt excitement building in his chest that had nothing to do with just the physical aspect of their relationship.
For the first time since his divorce, he was going to wake up next to a woman he was falling in love with, in his own bed, without the carefully managed complications of his daily life intruding.
The weekend couldn't come fast enough.