Mom, Don't Cry! Here comes a new Daddy! novel Chapter 25

Chapter 20

(Sabrina’s POV)

That makes me blush.

Thankfully, the waiter appears to clear our plates and offer dessert, saving me from the awkward embarrassment that had been sure to follow.

This is definitely my cue to call it a night.

But Jason orders us something to share-a chocolate thing with the word ‘decadent’ in the description-and I don’t protest.

When the dessert arrives, it’s gorgeous. Rich and dark and topped with gold leaf that seems completely unnecessary and completely perfect.

“This is too fancy,” I say, picking up my spoon.

“You deserve fancy.”

“I deserve yoga pants and leftover pizza.”

“You deserve both.” He takes a bite, and his eyes close briefly. “Oh, that’s good.”

I try it, and he’s right. It’s possibly the best thing I’ve ever tasted. Rich and smooth and just sweet enough.

“Okay, you win,” I admit. “I deserve fancy chocolate sometimes.”

We share the dessert in comfortable silence, and I realize I’m actually enjoying myself. Not forcing myself to enjoy myself or telling myself I should be enjoying myself. Actually, genuinely having a good time.

When did that happen?

The restaurant has live music-a small jazz band in the corner that I barely noticed when we arrived. But now they’re playing something slow and romantic, and couples are moving to the small dance floor near the windows.

Jason notices me watching them. “Do you dance?”

“Not really. I mean, I used to. Before-” I stop myself. “Before I forgot how.”

“I don’t believe that.” He stands, offering his hand. “Dance with me.”

Chaplet 20

“I’ll probably step on your feet.”

“I’m willing to take the risk.”

I should be sensible and go back to my cabin and sleep off this wine. I’ve already shared more with this stranger in a day, then I would’ve liked to in my right mind. But the music is lovely and Jason is looking at me with those dark eyes.

I can’t find it in myself to turn him down.

So I take his hand.

Claim

He leads me to the dance floor, and suddenly his hand is on my waist and my hand is in his, and we’re moving together like we’ve done this a thousand times.

“You’re a good dancer,” I say, surprised.

“Mandatory lessons as a kid. My mother insisted.” There’s something in his voice when he mentions his mother-affection mixed with old grief.

“Is she…?”

“Gone. Passed when I was young.” His hand tightens slightly on my waist. “She would have liked you, though.”

“You don’t know that. We just met.”

“I know it.” He pulls me slightly closer, and I don’t resist. “You would have gotten along.”

I smile at the comment, and right then, sense something. “Why do I feel like someone’s watching us?”

Jason’s eyes flick around the room briefly. “Maybe because we’re on a dance floor? People tend to watch dancers.”

“No, I mean… I’ve had this feeling all night. Like there’s a camera pointed at me.” I laugh, but it sounds nervous even to me. “Forget it. I’ve probably had too much wine.”

“Or maybe you have good instincts.” He spins me gently, and when I come back to him, I’m closer than before. Close enough to smell his cologne-that same clean and expensive fragrance mixed with his manly scent. It makes my mouth dry. “But even if someone is watching, does it matter? You’re not doing anything wrong.”

That’s right.

What does it matter if someone is watching?

Clem

I’m not married anymore. I have no reason to maintain a distance with other men when Dustin already filed our divorce papers.

The music shifts to something slower, dreamier. Other couples are pressed close together, swaying more than dancing. Jason doesn’t pull me closer, but he doesn’t step back either. He’s giving me space and that makes me feel more comfortable than I’ve ever felt with

Dustin before.

I step closer.

His hand slides around my waist more fully, and my free hand moves from his shoulder to the back of his neck. We’re not quite embracing, but we’re close enough that I can feel the heat of him, the solid strength of his body against mine.

“Is this okay?” I whisper.

“What?”

“This. You. Me. All of it.” I look up at him, and his face is closer than I expected. “I don’t do things like this. I don’t drink wine and spill my life story to a random person. I don’t—”

“Don’t what?”

“Get attracted to the first handsome man that crosses my path.” The words are out before I can stop them. But Jason doesn’t pull back, and that emboldens me. “I haven’t felt like this in… I don’t even know how long.”

“Like what?” His voice is rough, and his eyes have dropped to my mouth.

“Like I’m alive again.”

And then he’s kissing me.

Or I’m kissing him. I’m not sure who moved first, but suddenly his mouth is on mine and his hand is in my hair and I’m pressed against him like I’m trying to climb inside his skin.

The kiss is nothing like the polite, perfunctory kisses Dustin and I shared in the last years of our marriage. This is heat and want and something that feels dangerously close to desperation.

His tongue traces my lower lip, and I open for him without thinking. The taste of him-wine and chocolate and something uniquely him-makes my knees weak.

His hand tightens in my hair, angling my head for better access, and I make a sound I’ve never made before. A whimper. A plea.

bapter 20

Claim

When we break apart, we are both gasping, and I realize the music has stopped. The other couples have left the dance floor. We’re alone in the middle of the room, and the band is packing up, and I just made out with a stranger in front of God and everyone.

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