Don't Forget Me Tomorrow(39)

Lifting that quivering chin, so brave and fierce and sweet.

The sight of her hit me like a landslide.

Quicksand.

No way to get out.

I leaned around her and set her glass on the table, and when I eased back, she was right there, so close I could scent the sugar and vanilla that radiated from her skin.

I had the urge to lean forward and press my nose to it.

Inhale.

Trace my fingers over every slope and every curve.

I settled on touching her cheek before I took a little and dragged my fingertip over that divot at the side of her chin. “Do I think you’re not desirable, Dakota? You’re the most desirable woman I’ve ever met. And yeah, I think you’re worthy of love. Worthy of it more than anyone I know. Don’t ever mistake that.”

I was just jealous that I wasn’t worthy of receiving it from her.

She gulped, her throat bobbing, and that tension took new form.

New shape.

Growing thick and dense between us.

A clawing need.

“Ryder,” she whispered.

Before I fumbled and let myself cross a line I couldn’t, I stepped back and canted her a wayward grin. “I’ll even watch Kayden for you.”

A frown twisted across her brow, and it took everything I had not to reach out and smooth it.

To keep from telling her I wanted it to be me.

But I couldn’t do that, could I?

“Now come on, let’s eat, your food is going to get cold. I didn’t work over the stove all afternoon to waste it.”

The tease came easy. The way it always did.

But stomaching the food was an entirely different story.





NINETEEN





DAKOTA





I pulled the blanket over Kayden’s little body. His breaths were even as he slept. Facedown and sprawled out the way he always did, his glowing bear hugged under his arm and his cheek pressed to it.

Snuggled up.

Safe.

Loved.

All the things I hoped for my son.

I ran my fingers through his soft brown hair, whispering, “Sleep well, sweet boy,” before I crept from his room, leaving the door open a fraction.

Muted light filtered into the hall, and the old wood groaned beneath my feet as I moved. I tried to keep my steps even quieter as I edged down the stairs to get a drink of water.

It was just past eleven o’clock, and the house was quiet. I’d finished reading a book in my room before I’d gone in to check on Kayden.

It wasn’t like I was going to be able to sleep.

Not after whatever had happened between me and Ryder earlier tonight.

The man so thoughtful and sweet.

Making dinner so I wouldn’t have to cook once I got home from the restaurant.

Taking care of me.

But then it’d gotten awkward, the air filling with a tension that had writhed between us.

I swore he’d been angry—jealous even—when I’d told him I was going on a date.

Then he’d just grinned and said he would babysit Kayden for me, then sat down at the table and joked with me throughout dinner like nothing had happened.

I thought I sustained whiplash every time we had a conversation.

This push and pull that tugged between us so fierce that I never could quite get my footing.

These were the times that made me think…maybe.

Maybe he did want me.

But then I remembered I needed to stop thinking of him that way. Let go of this fantasy that would never amount to anything.

It was pathetic, really, that I pined after him like he was the only man on Earth after he’d rejected me.

Paisley was right.

I did need to go on this date.

I needed to try.

I hit the bottom floor landing and crept across the living room and into the kitchen.

No question, I’d be paying for these rampant thoughts in the morning. Five o’clock would come early. But rather than tossing under the sheets, I’d decided to read to take my mind off things, and I’d allowed myself to get caught up in a love story that had pounded through my veins, the couple’s connection so fierce and hot it’d left me a panty, sweaty mess by the end.

I figured a glass of ice water would douse the lingering steam.

This distraction? It hadn’t helped. The only thing it’d done was make it disturbingly clear what I was missing.

What I needed.

My body throbbing and aching for something I’d gone without for so long.

I’d only gone and made it so much worse, unable to do anything but replace the hero’s face with Ryder’s, a masochist because my own kept slipping in, too.

And there went that dangerous fantasy.

Round and round.

A cycle I wasn’t sure I’d ever get free of.

But it made it extra difficult when he was in the room two doors away.

I kept moving, the planks cool on the soles of my feet. Only a faint glow illuminated the kitchen, and I went directly to the cabinet, pulled out a glass, and filled it with ice and water from the dispenser.

I guzzled it down like I was trying to put out a fire, then I took a couple clearing breaths before I started back through the living room.

Creeping slowly, I tried to keep the wood from creaking as I ascended the stairs, my hand gliding up the smooth railing as I went.