Chapter Sixteen

Kayla surveyed the park, admiring the fluttering aspens and the red-and-blue playground equipment anchored in an ocean of fragrant cedar chips. Gripping Fireball’s leash in one hand, she touched Tony’s arm with the other.

“Is that her?” She nodded toward the picnic table a few feet from the restrooms. “The dead ringer for Rihanna?”

Damn, the woman was gorgeous. Thick braids and flawless brown skin set off by a row of bright red bracelets on her left wrist. And smart as hell, from what Tony had told her. Jaylin had a PhD in psychology and flew all over the world offering workshops for smokejumpers and medics and other first responders. Though she’d met Tony in New Zealand, they hadn’t dated until years later in Montana.

“That’s her,” Tony said. “Nose in a book, perpetually early. I always dug that about her.”

Kayla nodded, shoving against another swell of jealousy. “You sure you’re okay with this? It’s not taking a toll, hearing all this feedback from exes?”

He hesitated. “I’m good with it. I needed to hear the not-so-flattering stuff.”

Don’t we all. Kayla bit back the words, curious which things had struck the most chords with Tony.

She’d sure as hell learned a lot about herself over the course of this trip. Her self-awareness was at an all-time high, though she still had plenty to learn.

Her awareness of Tony, on the other hand…well, that was the thing. How had she never noticed before how quick he was to acknowledge his own faults? To apologize for missteps and pledge to do better? When they’d dated, she’d always admired his kindness, but had she ever noticed his earnestness? His desire to be a good guy, even if he didn’t get it right 100 percent of the time?

He kept trying, and God, she admired him for it.

As Jaylin looked up and waved them over, Kayla pushed aside her own questions to focus on Tony’s. “Showtime,” she said. “You didn’t tell her we’re together, did you?”

“I didn’t say one way or the other. What do you think would be best?”

Kayla considered that. “Just friends,” she said, despite the overpowering urge to lace her fingers through his. “I think we’ll get straighter answers that way.”

“Good thinking.” They started toward Jaylin, still well out of earshot, but Tony lowered his voice anyway. “Have I thanked you lately for pushing me to do this?”

“You’re welcome.” She smiled and bumped him with her elbow. “Which of us is closest to winning the bet?”

“I have no idea at this point.”

Neither did she, and honestly, she kept forgetting they’d made one. It seemed like a lifetime ago they’d sat in her guest room debating whether Tony was just a bad boyfriend or a guy with serious commitment issues. Right now, he was just Tony—kind, sensitive, funny, too-hard-on-himself Tony—the man she knew on a whole different level than the one who’d left with her on this road trip.

They were almost to the table, and Jaylin folded her book and stood to greet them. “What a cute little dog!” She stooped down to pet Fireball, who pranced and wagged before hopping up on his hind legs to lick his new best friend’s face. “Aren’t you just the sweetest? Yes, you are! What a good boy.”

Kayla laughed, charmed by anyone so happy to meet her dog. He really was a good boy. The best, when he wasn’t running off into the woods and scaring them half to death.

Jaylin straightened and smiled, wiping her hands on her designer jeans. “Tony, I’m sure you’re a good boy, too.” Her smile was wide and warm, with no trace of salaciousness topping the words she’d just said. Just the teasing openness of old friendship, and she shook his hand firmly before turning to Kayla. “It’s great to meet you, too. Kayla, right?”

“Right.” She shook Jaylin’s hand and returned the smile. “And this is Fireball.”

“He lives up to his name,” Tony added as they arranged themselves at the picnic table. Kayla and Tony took a seat on one side, while Jaylin returned to her spot on the other.

Fireball danced under the table between them, leash tangling on the bar supporting Jaylin’s bench.

“So.” She smiled at Kayla, then Tony. “I have to admit, I didn’t expect to hear from you. It’s been, what? Four years?”

“Something like that.” Tony folded his hands on the table. “I know we haven’t really kept in touch, but things ended well enough between us. I thought maybe you’d have some insights to share. Especially since you’re a shrink and all.”

Jaylin laughed, but it seemed a bit forced to Kayla. The flash of uncertainty in the woman’s eyes told her there was more to the story than Tony assumed.

She took her time responding, glancing at Kayla again before directing her attention to Tony. “Look, you’re a great guy.”

Uh-oh, Kayla thought, knowing damn well how women tended to cushion negative feedback that way.

But Tony kept smiling, either unaware or trying to stay positive. “Thanks,” he said, nodding at her. “You’re pretty awesome, too.”

“Thank you.” Jaylin tilted her head to one side. “Do you remember how you broke up with me?”

Tony flinched. Just a little, but enough for Kayla to notice. “You dumped me, didn’t you?”

He sounded unsure, and Kayla folded her hands in her lap to keep from reaching out to soothe him. Under the table, Fireball stretched up to lick her hand, then trotted over to Jaylin.

The woman smiled down at Fireball as he hopped up on the bench beside her oversize purse. A shearling bucket bag from Mansur Gavriel—Kayla had admired one like it online. At least until she saw the six-hundred-dollar price tag.

Kayla tugged the leash to pull her little dog back. “Fireball, no.”

“It’s okay. He’s fine here.” Jaylin stroked the pup’s smooth head and looked back at Tony. “I suppose, technically, I was the one to call it quits. But you already had one foot out the door. You’re not remembering our conversation the night before?”

His brow furrowed, and Kayla could see the effort it was taking for him to remember.

She could also see Fireball clambering aboard the handbag, taking way too much interest in the faux fur. “No,” she whispered, tugging the leash again.

But Jaylin reached down and caught the end closest to Fireball’s collar, tugging the loop out of Kayla’s hand. “It’s okay. He’s just tangled around the bench.” She unwound the leash from the bar and smiled at the dog, offering another ear scratch. “I’ve got you now, buddy. Yes, I do. Who’s a good boy?”

Fireball wagged again, and Kayla ordered herself to relax. The park was fenced, so he couldn’t go far if Jaylin lost her grip on the leash.

“What was I saying?” Jaylin looked from Tony to Kayla and back again. “Oh! I was talking about our conversation the night before you left. You remember me asking you what you were looking for?”

Tony’s expression grew leery, and he glanced at Kayla. “Not really. I’m sorry. I’m such a dick.”

“You’re not a dick.” Jaylin sounded convincing, and her expression held ample sympathy and zero bitterness. “I asked what it was you were looking for, and you made a crack about a ball-peen hammer you’d lost two years before.”

That definitely sounded like Tony. “Using humor to deflect a serious question,” Kayla said, quirking a brow at him. “There’s a pattern there.”

“Certainly,” Jaylin agreed.

Recognition flickered in Tony’s eyes, even as his brow furrowed. “I never did find that damn hammer.”

Jaylin laughed, but there was an edge to it. “You knew that wasn’t what I meant.”

Kayla glanced at Fireball to see him arranging himself atop Jaylin’s bag, ready to hitch a ride. Or ready to—oh, shit.

Jaylin was still talking, but Kayla wasn’t hearing her anymore. She clapped her hand on the table, doing her best to startle Fireball from his lovefest.

No response. She tried again, palm cracking against the peeling green paint. It didn’t get the dog’s attention, but it did get Jaylin’s.

“Everything okay?”

Kayla opened her mouth to answer, then heard the words play out in her mind.

Sorry to interrupt your meaningful conversation, but my dog is having sex with your purse.

“Mosquito,” she fibbed, wiping her palm on her jeans. “I’m sorry—you were saying? Something about how Tony deflected your question with a dumb joke.”

“Hey—” Tony heaved a sigh. “It wasn’t that dumb.”

Jaylin smiled and patted his hand. “It was, but that’s okay. I tried again, more seriously. I asked what you were looking for in a romantic relationship.”

Tony had the good sense to look embarrassed. “Did I say something shitty like ‘blow jobs’ or ‘a really great ass’?”

Jaylin shook her head a little sadly. “I almost wish you had. Instead, you told me you weren’t sure you saw any point in setting an intention for relationships. That people lose sight of what they want as soon as they’re in one, so what does it matter anyway?”

“I said that?” Tony frowned. “I mean, I’m sure I said it. It does sound like me.”

“It does,” Kayla agreed, still struggling to get Fireball’s attention. She didn’t want to derail things with another loud noise, so she focused on shooting her fiercest dog-mom look at Fireball while she kept her attention on Tony. “Do you remember what you meant by that?”

Jaylin jumped in before Tony had a chance. “I don’t know Tony’s intention, but I’ll tell you how I heard it. It sounded hopeless. Definitely not a guy who saw a future with me.”

The furrow between Tony’s brows deepened. “That wasn’t how I meant it, exactly.”

Jaylin cocked her head. “You did see a future?”

“No. I mean—” He sighed and laid his hands flat on the table, palms down. “I don’t know if I see a future with anyone. That’s the problem, maybe. I think I want that, but when I try to imagine it really happening, I just—I can’t.” He shook his head, sounding every bit as hopeless as she’d said.

The words—his expression—hit Kayla like a gut punch. Stupid, since she’d had zero indication she and Tony were meant for anything long-term. Still, she couldn’t fight the wave of disappointment washing through her.

Or her concern that Fireball seemed to be picking up the tempo.

Christ, she should just say something about the dog. A couple seconds and an awkward titter of laughter was all it would take.

But Tony started talking again. “I guess my point was that relationships are always bound to go off the rails. Making plans just ensures disappointment.”

“Pretty sure I saw that on a Hallmark card,” Jaylin said drily, and Kayla adored her even more.

Not as much as Fireball adored the purse. Should she just let him finish?

“I’m sorry,” Tony said, and Kayla pulled her attention off the dog. “I don’t blame you a bit for hearing what I said exactly the way you did. It was an asshole thing to say.”

“But you meant it,” Jaylin said. “Don’t apologize for saying what you mean, unless your ultimate goal is to change your own intentions.”

“It is,” Tony said softly. “At least, I think it is. That’s why I’m here.”

“I’m not sure I have the answers you want.” Jaylin reached across the table to put a hand on Tony’s again.

The movement startled Fireball, who halted his humping and glanced at Kayla. Narrowing her eyes, Kayla gave him the sternest look she could muster and telepathically channeled stop that right now.

Remarkably, he did.

Maybe she was getting the knack of this pet-parent thing.

“You’re doing great,” Jaylin said, and Kayla took a second to realize she meant Tony. “The guy I knew years ago wouldn’t have had the self-awareness to even get this far, so you’ve come a long way.”

“Maybe not far enough.” He glanced at Kayla. “Not enough to make a difference.”

“Baby steps,” she said, praying her dog hadn’t done any damage to the expensive handbag. “It’s like that saying about elephants.”

Tony flicked his gaze to Fireball so fast that Kayla wasn’t sure it really happened. “You mean ignoring the elephant in the room for the sake of the greater good?”

“What? No.” Kayla shook her head, not sure where she’d gone off track. “The expression about how you eat an elephant—one bite at a time.”

“That makes so much sense.” Jaylin turned to scratch Fireball’s ears. “Who’s a good doggie?” she cooed as the dog lapped up her affection, the purse all but forgotten now. “You are! Can I get into my purse for a second? There’s a book I want to show them.”

With Jaylin’s attention diverted, Kayla ducked under the table to snatch her dog’s leash back. “Let me just grab this from you.”

“What? Oh, sure.” Jaylin pulled out a tattered hardback, flipping it to show them the cover. “Have you heard of this? Go Get It! The Life You Want, the Love You Need. It’s been life-changing for me.”

Tony grabbed Kayla’s hand—the one not engaged in dragging Fireball back by the leash. “Yeah, that sounds familiar.”

“I’ve admired Dr. O’Toole’s work for years,” Jaylin said, flipping it open. “There’s this wonderful section on self-affirmation. You should give it a try sometime.”

“Good idea.” Tony turned to Kayla, eyes flashing with amusement as he squeezed her hand under the table. “We’ve actually been reading it. Well, Kayla’s reading it. She’s read some stuff out loud to me.”

“No kidding?” Jaylin flattened her hand on a page and gave Kayla a conspiratorial look. “Have you tried the mirror trick yet?”

“Mirror trick?” She glanced at the page. “Oh, that’s in chapter eighteen. I haven’t made it that far.”

“It was really eye-opening for me,” Jaylin said. “It sounds a little hokey, but you should definitely give it a shot.”

“Thanks. I will.” She glanced at Tony, who was holding Fireball on his lap and well out of trouble. “Did you have any other questions?”

He stroked his hand down Fireball’s back, considering it. “Why the hell did you put up with me for as long as you did?”

Kayla expected Jaylin to laugh, to reach for Tony’s hand again. Instead, Jaylin studied him for a few beats. Her gaze shifted to Kayla.

“Because when you find a guy who’s kind and smart and funny, you’re willing to overlook the less-than-perfect stuff to make it work,” she said. “And if you’re both willing to do that, you’ve got a relationship.” Her gaze swung back to Tony, and she gave a shrug. “If not, you’ve got a goodbye.”

Jaylin turned back to her, and Kayla held her breath. “You know what I mean, don’t you?”

Kayla swallowed hard. Had she seen right through her? Did she know how Kayla really felt about Tony?

She nodded, gripping her dog’s leash tighter. “I do. I really do.”

…

Kayla seemed quiet on the drive back to the hotel. Or maybe she was just tired. Tony sure as hell felt it, though it was more from last night’s activities than the ones at the park.

“You’re smiling.” Kayla turned from the window to look at him. “That went pretty well, you think?”

“Yeah.” He scrubbed a hand over his chin. “It’s interesting, I guess. Learning someone else has such a different memory of how things went down. How it all ended.”

“That’s not how you remember it?”

He shrugged. “She’s not wrong. It’s just not the version of the story that gelled in my head.”

“That makes sense. Willa and I were talking last year about the first time we met. I have this vivid memory of reaching for the same anatomy text in the campus bookstore, but she’s convinced it happened at the café when we got stuck in line together behind a pack of frat boys who reeked of pot.”

Tony took his eyes off the road to glance at her. “So, who’s right?”

“That’s the thing—we don’t know. Our memories are different, and we can both concede that our version might not be accurate. It’s just interesting how two people can remember things so differently.”

“Yeah.” He glanced back at the road, hitting his blinker to turn into the hotel parking lot. “Why did you and I split up?”

“What?”

She sounded so startled that he waited until he’d parked and killed the engine to turn and face her. Their motel room was right outside, but Tony stayed put. “All these breakups we’ve been revisiting… We haven’t really talked about ours.”

“I—uh—guess you’re right.” Her brow furrowed. “I didn’t think it was that significant.”

“It is.” A helluva lot, he was beginning to realize.

Kayla took a deep breath and looked out the window again. “Well, things seemed like they were going great at first. We loved the same music. We had fun at Willa’s game nights. The sex was amazing.” She paused, cheeks pinkening a little. “It’s even better now, but it was pretty fantastic then.”

“Yeah,” he said, struggling not to let his brain derail on the sex stuff. “So what went wrong?”

“I guess I just started thinking those were more surface things,” she said. “The concerts, the dates, the hikes—we had a great time together, but we just weren’t connecting on the same level. Not like I saw Willa and Grady doing. Not on that bone-deep, feel-it-in-your-soul kinda way.”

Tony took a shaky breath and reached for her hand. “That was my fault,” he said. “I recognize that now, and I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t just that.” She hesitated.

“What? Lay it on me; my ego can take it.”

Kayla bit her lip. “Look, I want marriage and kids. I just do, and no matter how much I try to convince myself I’m happy just dating and having this great career and amazing friends, they don’t fill that void. I knew you’d never get there, so it made sense to move on.”

The words shouldn’t surprise him. They didn’t—not exactly. But they sure as hell stung.

What if I could get there?

He wanted to ask. Wanted desperately to know the answer.

But he was too fucking afraid.

“I’m sorry.” That was the best he could manage. “If I could go back and change things, I would.”

“I wouldn’t,” she said softly.

He tried not to feel that like a junk punch. Of course they had different experiences. Of course she didn’t want to be stuck in a relationship with him. He reached for the door handle, combing his brain for a smart-ass joke to lighten the mood.

“No, Tony, that’s not what I meant.” She squeezed his hand, and he stopped moving. “I just meant that you and I have changed and grown so much in the past year.” She laughed, and he felt his heart breathe a sigh. “Hell, in the last couple weeks. The people we were back then weren’t really compatible, were they?”

He shook his head, understanding now. “Yeah. You’re right.”

A new thought formed in his head. What if the people they’d come to be were more compatible? What if they really could try again?

What if he had the balls to ask?

“I need to run.” Kayla reached for the door handle and smiled at him.

Tony frowned. “Where?”

“No, I mean I need to run—for exercise. It’s been a few days, and I can practically feel my muscles atrophying.”

Her muscles looked pretty perfect to him, but he nodded. “I’ve got some stuff I want to do.”

“Yeah?”

He laughed. “Okay, I’m lying. I want a nap. You wore me out last night.”

She grinned and hopped out of the Jeep. “How about we meet up again around four to head out to the forest. That’s if you’re still game for some sunset shots.”

“Definitely,” he said. “And dinner afterward. There’s this great diner I want you to see.”

“The one with waffles you told me about? I can’t wait.”

“It’s a date.” He flinched at his own words, but Kayla didn’t. She just strode ahead of him, dark hair trailing behind, leaving him in her wake.

What if?

His brain asked the question he couldn’t bring himself to say out loud. But maybe he could. Maybe tonight.

…

He woke from his nap to the sound of Kayla’s voice. Blinking in the semi-darkness, it took him a minute to realize where he was.

Alone in the hotel bed, yes. Apparently, he’d fallen asleep in his clothes. But what time was it? And who was Kayla talking to?

“You are brave and capable.”

Silence. Which would be an asshole response for an in-person conversation, so she must be on the phone. Light seeped through the cracks at the edges of the bathroom door, which wasn’t fully closed. Tony lay still, wondering if he should make a quiet exit to give her some privacy.

“You can do anything you set your mind to.”

Tony frowned, picturing who might be on the other end of the line. Willa, maybe? But no, she and Grady left just hours ago for Australia and would be out of phone range all day. Maybe one of her sisters?

“You are beautiful both inside and out.” A pause, then the sound of something clattering on the counter. “Except the gross mascara rings under your eyes because you never stop rubbing them or smashing them against a camera. And seriously, what the hell is happening with your hair? It’s like you’ve been electrocuted.”

Realization dawned as he propped himself up on one elbow to rub the sleep from his eyes. She was doing the self-affirmation thing. Shit, he really shouldn’t be here. He didn’t know much about how the whole mirror exercise was supposed to work, but wasn’t it meant to be private?

He sat up silently, hoping to slip out without detection. He could go grab a snack at the gas station across the street, or maybe walk Fireball.

Kayla’s voice halted him in his tracks. “You’re such a dumbass. First you suck at meditation, and now you can’t get this right? How hard can it be?”

He sat frozen on the edge of the bed, wondering if he should say something. If he should still flee the room. It didn’t appear to be going well, but that didn’t mean she needed his interjection.

“You spend all this time yammering about self-improvement and the damn books you’re reading,” she continued. “But you can’t even get it together to face your own family. To face the fact that you’re alone and they’re not. You’re just talking to hear yourself talk, and no one really gives a shit if—”

“I give a shit.”

The words slipped out, and he wanted to kick himself. He held his breath, waiting for her to snap at him. He deserved it, interrupting her ritual like this. Eavesdropping like some kind of creeper.

On the other side of the door, he heard her take a breath. “Thank you. These affirmations aren’t as easy as I thought.”

He hesitated, waiting for her to tell him to get lost. Or maybe he should offer to go.

“Can I help?”

A fluttery laugh echoed from the other side of the door. “Help with my self-affirmation? Doesn’t that defeat the purpose?”

Her words tipped up at the end, tinged with hope and uncertainty. Tony slid off the bed, his bare feet shuffling across the carpet. He made his way to the door of the bathroom, telling himself this was dumb. She didn’t need him. She didn’t need anyone.

But as his hand touched the edge of the door, it creaked open two more inches. He still couldn’t see her—not fully. But her left arm flashed in a sliver of mirror, so that’s where he put his focus.

“You have strong arms,” he said. “Which is weird, since I know you don’t lift weights. But you lug that heavy camera bag everywhere, and I know you do yoga, and I’ve always dug the hell out of how sexy your arms are.”

He closed his eyes, annoyed with himself for focusing on something physical. She was so much more than that, and wasn’t this exercise meant to be about what was on the inside?

“Thank you.” Her response from the other side of the door was almost a whisper. “Am I supposed to repeat that?”

“Maybe. What does the book say?”

“Yeah. Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I have strong arms. I can carry heavy camera bags or do an hour of power vinyasa without breaking a sweat. My arms are powerful and capable and part of who I am as a woman.”

That sounded a lot better than whatever the fuck he’d said. “Perfect.”

She fell silent again, which seemed like Tony’s cue to go. He started to back up, then stopped. “You’re also funny as hell.”

No response from the other side of the door, but the sliver of her body he could see had gone motionless. As he watched, her hand lifted, stopping somewhere near her heart to rest. Did that mean he should keep going?

“I don’t think you realize it sometimes, but you have the best sense of humor. You can slay me with just a tiny little half smile or the way you lift one eyebrow to say ‘what the actual fuck?’ even if you’re not saying a word. And at game night, when we’re at Willa’s—I’ve never seen anyone who can have the whole room rolling on the floor during charades.”

Silence. Then movement inside. Her hand reached out to pull the door open, revealing her standing there in a black bra and panties.

“Holy shit.” His jaw fell open, and he had to physically force his mouth closed. “I mean—sorry. I didn’t know you were—uh—”

“It’s okay.” She smiled a bit sheepishly. “Not like it’s anything you haven’t seen before.”

“Right.” But he hadn’t—not like this. The bright lights of the bathroom cast her in a golden glow, and she stood with her shoulders back and hair loose and wild. So different from how he usually saw her spread back against the sheets, her head propped on a pillow. “You are so fucking stunning.”

She laughed, hair falling over one eye. “Thank you.”

He hesitated, then stepped into the bathroom behind her. He gave her a chance to say no, to tell him this was her sacred space. A solitary ritual. Instead, she met his eyes in the mirror and smiled. “I’m not very good at this.”

“I think you’re amazing.” He traced a hand down her rib cage, making her shudder. “I love the way you laugh. I love how your left eye is just a little bit bluer than the other. I love how you always know exactly what you want when you order at restaurants and how you see things in nature that I’d never in a million years spot without you.”

He moved his other hand over her hip, earning a soft little moan. That sound was all he needed to keep going. “I love how soft your skin is. And your hair.” He skimmed his hand up over her shoulder, sliding his fingers into the strands of silk. “I love that you’re a good friend, a good sister, a good daughter. You’re such a good person, and you don’t even realize it, which kills me.”

She laughed, but her breath caught in her throat as his hand moved over her breast. “I love that you’re so sensitive. Not just this.” He swirled a thumb over her nipple and watched her arch against him in the mirror. “But here.” He placed a hand over her heart, the swell of her breast soft beneath his palm. “I love how fiercely you love your dog. I love how deeply you care about your friends. I love how passionate you are about your art.”

Watching their reflections in the mirror, Tony traced both palms down her sides, taking his time to memorize her curves. The dip of her waist, the flare of her hips, the curve of her backside. Kayla moaned and pressed back against him, letting her head fall to his chest. He held her up, cushioning her body with his.

He hadn’t meant for this to turn sexual. Hadn’t meant to be here at all. But here they both were, eyes locked in the mirror, breath coming faster.

“Tony,” she breathed, shifting against him.

“Yeah?”

“I want you.”

The words speared straight through him. He breathed in and out, timing his breaths with hers. Eyes still locked with hers in the mirror, he nodded once. “Let me go get a c—”

“Let’s skip the condom.”

He blinked. “What?”

“You had your end-of-season physical before we left, right?”

He nodded, hardly daring to breathe. “All clear.”

“Same,” she murmured. “And I’m on the pill.”

“I’ve never—” He shook his head, not wanting to say anything dumb. “My whole life, I’ve—I’ve been safe. I haven’t ever—”

“I want to,” she murmured. “With nothing between us. Please.”

He nodded, palms still cupping her hips.

Kayla smiled in the mirror, then turned in his arms and reached for his fly. “Let me.” Tugging his shirt from his jeans, she drew it up and pulled it over his head. He lifted his arms to make it easier, tossing the shirt aside as she worked on his jeans. “There,” she breathed, drawing them down and off in a display of fancy footwork that left both of them unstable.

Then she turned again, pressing her spine to his belly so they both faced the mirror. “I want to watch,” she murmured, smiling as she met his eyes. “I don’t want to miss anything.”

“Jesus Christ.” His brain went dizzy as he struggled to decide whether to leave on her bra and panties.

But he wanted to see her, wanted nothing between them in this moment. Slowly, he peeled the black lace down her hips, kissing the curve of her backside as he drew her panties to the floor. When he rose again, he took his time unhooking her bra, letting the lace fall from her breasts so she stood naked before him.

“You’re unreal,” he murmured. “So stunning.”

She laughed and pressed her backside into him, moving against his hard shaft. Her eyes never left his. “I’ve never done this before.”

He wasn’t sure what she meant but couldn’t speak to ask.

“The mirror,” she supplied, grazing him again with her tailbone. “All the lights blazing. I’ve never been this—exposed.”

“Same,” he said, though he wasn’t talking about the same thing. He’d never felt this open, this vulnerable, this seen by a woman whose body he was about to enter. “This was number one, by the way.”

She blinked at him in the mirror. “What?”

“My fantasy list. The number-one thing.”

“Oh.” She smiled. “Without the condom? Or you mean the mirror?”

He nodded because he’d lost his train of thought, groaning as she pressed back against him. Also, that wasn’t it. The mirror, the lack of a condom, sure—those were on his fantasy list. But his real number one?

Making love to a woman he loved deeply, truly, madly.

This. This was his number-one fantasy.

Eyes flickering with heat, Kayla leaned forward on her elbows, tipping her ass back against him. “Tease me with it.” She didn’t wait for him to figure out what she meant. Reaching back, she grabbed his shaft and guided the head to her slippery cleft.

He groaned as she dragged him through the wetness, hissing out a breath as she teased him. “Like that,” she whispered, holding his gaze with hers. “Just the tip.”

He’d never felt anything like this in his life. The slick heat, the teetering on the edge of something so big, so raw. Shifting his hips, he drew himself along the liquid line of her center, taking his time.

Kayla moaned and closed her eyes as he released one of her hips and slid his hand between her legs. She gasped as he dipped a finger inside her, then traced a slick path to her clit. As he rolled it under his thumb, her eyes flew wide and met his again.

“Oh, fuck,” she breathed. “Just like that.”

She was moving against him, squirming so he slid deeper into her. Not all of him, just another half inch or so. He gritted his teeth, using every ounce of restraint to keep from plunging all the way in. This moment was for savoring. He wanted her to set the pace, to call the shots.

Still teasing her with his fingers, he let one hand slide up to cup her breast. “You’re perfect,” he rumbled, teasing her nipple with his thumb. “So perfect.”

“Tony.” She moaned and drew him in deeper, gasping as he slid into her. “Please,” she panted. “No more teasing. Take me hard.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. Releasing her breast, he palmed her hip and pulled her back against him. Burying himself to the hilt, he quickened his touch on her clit, circling the way he knew she loved it.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned. “So wet. I never knew it could be like this.”

But he wasn’t talking about condom-less sex. It was all of this. The heat in her eyes, the fusion of their bodies, the certainty that something big had shifted between them. That it would never be the same again.

“Kayla,” he groaned, closing his eyes to buy himself more time. If he couldn’t see her perfect body, maybe he wouldn’t come so fast. “Have to slow down. Make it las—”

“Tony!” The sharpness of her voice, the clench of her body told him she’d hit the edge already.

Her eyes went wide, locking with his as she slammed back against him. “Don’t stop. Please, oh God.”

She gripped the edge of the counter, words trailing off into a jumble of nonsense syllables as she slammed back against him. He tried to hold back, to make it last, to keep himself from tumbling over the edge.

But as her body squeezed around him, a guttural sound bubbled up his throat in a primal growl. “Baby, yes.”

She didn’t blink, didn’t break eye contact as she slammed back and he pushed forward, and somewhere in the middle they exploded together, joined by breath and flesh and something he still couldn’t identify but knew he’d been missing his whole life.

At last, her cries subsided. She kept moving, absorbing the aftershocks of his orgasm with her own soft pulses. In the mirror, she smiled into his eyes. “That was intense.”

“That was—” He didn’t have the words.

Or maybe he did.

He had one word, only one. He’d said it to her already, just moments before.

I love your kindness.

I love your passion.

I love your laugh.

But he hadn’t said what he really meant.

“I love you.” His voice came out raspy and quiet, so he said it again. “I love you, Kayla.”

She blinked at him in the mirror, then gave a nervous little laugh. “As a friend, you mean.”

He shook his head. “Not as a friend. As a guy who wants more than friendship. Who wants this—all of this—all of you—for as long as humanly possible.”

The words sounded jumbled and a little awkward, but he meant them with everything he had. She stared at him, not saying a word. What was she thinking?

“Tony.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I love you, too, but—” Her throat moved as she swallowed. “We want different things out of life.”

He let silence wash between them for a few beats. “We really don’t.” He took a deep breath. “I meant what I said that night. In your car? It wasn’t the booze talking.”

Slowly, she turned in his arms. She tilted her head back to look up at him, disbelief shimmering in those blue eyes. “Marriage,” she said, spelling it out with perfect bluntness. “Children. That’s what you’re saying?”

He nodded, slowly at first, then with more conviction. “I’m not proposing or suggesting you toss the pills or anything like that. I just—I want you to know I could get there. I mean, I’m almost there already. With you, I mean.”

In the other room, his phone began to ring.

“I’m right there with you.” Kayla shifted in his arms, glancing toward the room, where the phone continued to blare. “Do you need to get that?”

“Are you kidding?” He shook his head, drawing his palms down her bare back. “No. No way.”

She laughed and moved against him, her body soft and warm against his. “Do you mean that? What you just said—are you serious?”

“Positive.” He circled his palms over her back, memorizing the curve of her spine. “I’ve been thinking about it for days. Maybe longer. Maybe—God, I’m not good at this.”

She laughed and reached up to cup his face. “You’re better than you think,” she said. “For the record, I feel the same. I’ve probably been there a while, actually.”

He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. How unbelievable to hear those words. To say them himself. To know he had the balls to put them out there in the universe and hope for the best.

He’d come so fucking far.

The phone rang again. Kayla’s brow furrowed. “You sure you don’t need to get that?”

He shook his head, then paused.

Wait. That ringtone. It wasn’t his mother’s. It wasn’t his brother’s or Grady’s or anyone else he could just ignore.

In an instant, Tony’s blood ran cold. Every last drop drained to the tips of his toes.

“Tony?”

He barely heard her as the phone rang again. It was the ringtone he’d programmed years ago—the one reserved for emergencies only.

“Leo.”

Kayla’s brow furrowed. “Your friend from high school?”

Tony closed his eyes as the phone fell silent, then rang again. He wasn’t sure where to begin. Wasn’t sure how to tell her.

But he knew right then that everything was about to change.