by Megan Green
He fucks me slowly at first, letting me adjust and stretch around him before picking up speed. With each thrust of his hips, each push and slide of his body, he hits a spot so deep inside I see stars on the other side of my closed lids.
My fingers claw at his back, shoving the fabric of his shirt up and over his head so that I can feel more of him, feel every inch of his body against my own.
My orgasm builds quickly, heat pooling in my belly as my walls start to pulsate around him. My head falls back as the ecstasy starts to rush through me, but Shane’s hand comes up and tangles itself in my hair.
“Open your eyes, Kate. Look at me when you come,” he groans.
My eyes pop open, and I’m met with the most breathtaking sight I’ve ever seen.
Shane Dempsey, muscles thick and corded as he works his fantastic body over mine, his neck straining as he stares down at me, his eyes so full of an emotion I can’t quite name.
The sight of him is all it takes to send me straight over the edge.
“That’s it, baby. Come for me, come all over my cock,” he says as his eyes squeeze shut, his body jerking wildly as he thrusts into me, finding his own release.
He collapses on top of me as we both come down from our highs, and I relish the feel of his weight for the second he gives it to me until he props himself up on an elbow so he doesn’t crush me.
“You’re incredible, Kate Mitchell,” he whispers as he presses a kiss to the tip of my nose.
And as amazing as that was. As glorious as this entire evening has been, I can’t help the flash of guilt that passes through me as I look up into his eyes.
What have I done?
Chapter Thirteen
Shane
“How was Riverfest?”
My mother’s voice startles me out of my thoughts, and I look up just in time to see her strolling straight into my office before taking a seat.
“Hi, Mom. Nice to see you, too. I’m doing great. Thanks for asking,” I respond dryly, dropping my eyes back down so they can continue their perusal of my newest contract.
Not that I’d been able to make heads or tails of it. I’ve been attempting to read this damn thing for nearly an hour, and so far, haven’t made it past the first sentence.
She reaches over and plucks the sheet of paper from my hand. “Don’t you give me that. Tell me how your weekend with Kate was.”
I quirk an eyebrow at her in response, surprise rolling through me at how she’s seemingly read my mind. Kate had been dominating my thoughts since I’d woken this morning. “How do you know I spent the weekend with Kate?”
She shrugs. “I knew you were going to see her Friday night. It only seemed fitting that you’d invite her to the fireworks with you and the girls Saturday. Which of course leads into Sunday…”
I pin her with a look and she chuckles. “Oh, alright. I called yesterday and Gracie answered. She said you were outside with Kate, getting the grill started for burgers. She had quite a lot to say about all the time you three had spent with her new favorite aunt. You better watch out, by the way. Your sister is going to start feeling neglected,” she adds with a wink.
I think back to the hours I’d spent with Kate this weekend. Both with the girls and…
Yeah, something told me my sister would be just fine with not getting the same attention Kate is receiving.
My mother clucks her tongue, once again yanking me from my thoughts of Kate and back into my office. She gives me a cheeky grin.
“What?” I ask, trying to play dumb.
“Don’t you what me, mister. I know that look.”
My brows shoot up. My mother most certainly does not know my I’mthinkingaboutsex look.
“You like her,” she says, pointing a finger at me and twirling it in a circle.
I laugh. Judging from the hours I spent between her thighs Saturday night—and again Sunday morning—
“Yeah, Mom. I like her.”
If possible, my mother looks even more delighted than she did when she first walked in here. And considering she’d just had lunch with my father at their favorite restaurant, that was saying something.
“Oh, Shane. I’m so happy for you.”
I lean forward and prop my elbows on my desk, running a hand through my hair.
“I don’t know what to do, Mom.”
“What do you mean?” she asks, her voice dropping an octave in concern.
“I mean, isn’t this all happening too fast? Shouldn’t I still be in mourning or something? Isn’t it too damn soon to even be entertaining the idea of another woman?”
My mother’s nose scrunches as she considers my words, her lips twisting into a pensive line. I sit in silence as I wait for her to say something—to impart some sort of motherly wisdom on me that will solve all my problems. It worked all the time when I was a kid. What I wouldn’t give for life to be that simple again.
When a full minute passes and she still hasn’t spoken, I drop my hands down to my desk.
“Say something, Ma. You’re killing me here.”
A slight smile pulls at that thoughtful expression and I groan. This elicits a full-on laugh from her lips, and I stare at her incredulously.
“I’m glad to see my crisis is amusing you. Please, continue laughing at my expense.”
My smartass remark cuts her laughter off short, this time her eyes settling on me in that hard mom look I hadn’t been on the receiving end of in years.
Somehow it’s just as intimidating today as it was when I was six.
“You watch your tone, Shane Dempsey. You may be nearly a foot taller than me, but I’m still your mother.”
“Sorry, Mom,” I say sheepishly, regret rushing through me at upsetting her. “I’m just so confused. It’s driving me crazy and I took it out on you. Forgive me?”
She waves away my apology. “Well, of course. Like I just said. You may be a foot taller than me… but you’re still my baby boy. I never have been able to stay angry with you for long.”
I give her a sideways smile. “You’re the best. Now, wanna tell me why you were laughing at me?” I ask, making sure to keep any trace of an edge out of my tone.
“I wasn’t laughing at you, Shane. More just the fact that you’ve somehow found yourself in much the same situation as me when I was right around your age.”
It hadn’t occurred to me that my mom had once found herself young and widowed. Mostly because my “uncle” Aaron—Aarabelle’s father and my mother’s first husband—hadn’t actually been dead. He’d been taken captive while on a mission in Afghanistan, but everyone thought he’d been killed after an explosion. One of Aaron’s fingers had been found amongst the rubble, and everyone had assumed the worst.
Turned out, he was very much alive, if not exactly well. He spent many months imprisoned by terrorists until a CIA operative—Mark’s wife, as a matter of fact—found him while she was trying to infiltrate the organization. My father, Jackson, and Mark had all gone over to rescue him, but unfortunately, his homecoming hadn’t been quite as welcoming as he’d anticipated.
During his absence, my mother had found out about an affair he’d been having with a woman named Brittany. But even prior to that, she’d found herself falling in love with someone else.
My father.
I’d heard the story at least a dozen times over the years. My father had been Aaron’s best friend prior to his disappearance. And my mother had been a loving, devoted wife. They’d tried to deny it. Tried to fight it. But in the end…
True love had won.
It’s impossible for me to imagine a world in which my parents weren’t together—and not just because I wouldn’t exist if they weren’t. They were perfect for each other in every sense. I’d never seen two people more in love than Natalie and Liam Dempsey.
But how had my mother done it? How had she grieved for one man, while falling in love with another? Had it eaten her up inside like it was me? Had she lain awake at night, feeling like she was betraying Aaron
while my father slept peacefully beside her?
I voice the question, needing to know how she got through it, desperate for something to hold onto, some sort of light at the end of this long, lonely tunnel.
She gives me a sad smile. “Oh, honey. You have no idea how many hours I spent, how many sleepless nights I lived through, all in the name of guilt. Even after finding out about his affair, there was a part of me that still felt like I was betraying Aaron. Surely it was too soon, I told myself over and over. Sound familiar?” she asks, her eyes full of sorrow and love.
I nod, my throat bobbing as I try to swallow my emotions. If only she knew the details of mine and Felicity’s relationship. It was crazy how similar our stories truly were.
Infidelity.
Loss.
Being left to raise children on our own.
My mother and I had so much more in common than our DNA. She knew exactly what I was going through right now, because she’d lived it.
I’m so lost in my own head that I don’t even realize she’s moved until a hand settles over mine. I look up, my eyes leaving the mark on my desk I’d been staring at for the past God knows how long while I drew the parallels between my mother’s life and my own. When my gaze finally meets hers, she squeezes my hand tightly, and I can practically feel the strength pouring out of her fingertips and into me.
“You’re a good man, Shane Dempsey. The very best I’ve ever met, save maybe for your father. I know you’d never do anything to hurt someone you love. But that doesn’t mean you have to live the rest of your life alone.”
“I just feel like the timing is wrong. You fell in love with Dad, but it was six months after Aaron supposedly died. Felicity has been gone less than four weeks, and…”
She shushes me. “You have no reason to feel guilty. You can’t put a timeline on something like love. Nobody wakes up one day, expecting to meet the person they’re going to spend the rest of their lives with. But sometimes it happens. And sometimes it happens when it’s the last thing you think you want. But I can tell you one thing…” She trails off, and I give her an expectant look. “Your heart doesn’t give a shit what you want. It only cares about what you need.”
I lean back in my chair, her words flowing through me like a much-needed balm. A satisfied smile graces her lips as she quirks an eyebrow at me.
“Damn, Mom,” I say, blowing out a slow breath. “When did you get so smart?”
“About the same time your father strolled into my life and made me open my eyes.”
I stand, coming around the desk and tugging her up into my arms.
“Thank you,” I say as I squeeze her tight. “Thank you for always knowing the right thing to say.”
“I’m always here for you, Shane. Don’t ever forget that.” She pulls back, lifting a hand to smooth a lock of hair from my forehead. “I love you so much, baby. You and your sister are the greatest things I ever did in this life.”
I lean in and kiss her on the cheek. “Love you, too, Mom. Now if you’ll excuse me…”
She laughs as she steps out of my embrace. “You go home and give those girls of yours a hug from me. All three of them,” she adds with a wink.
And forty minutes later, when I stride through the front door, finding Gracie and Ellie sitting on the floor, Kate stretched out beside them on her stomach, her knees bent and ankles crossed behind her, the Candyland board game sprawled out before them, I do exactly that.
I sit down beside them, pull my daughters into my lap and Kate into my side, and I hug the shit out of all three of them.
Because my mother was right.
Kate might not have been what my head thought I wanted.
But my heart knows she is exactly what I need.
Chapter Fourteen
Kate
I switch off the hairdryer, tousling my fingers through my slightly damp hair. My face is flushed red from the heat, and I put a steadying hand against the vanity as a wave of dizziness rolls through me.
Stupid long ass hair.
I adore my long locks and would never dream of cutting them, but even I have to admit blow-drying them is a bitch. Normally, I’d just brush it out after my shower and leave it to air dry, but Shane and the girls are on their way to pick me up. I don’t really feel like wandering around a pumpkin patch with a wet head.
A small swarm of butterflies flit through my tummy at the thought of the three people I’m about to see. It’s been a week since the night we spent on the hill—the night Shane and I had first made love—and I can’t remember a time in my life when I’ve been happier.
I wake up every morning with a smile on my face, my dreams having been filled with visions of Shane, with memories of moments spent with the girls. I lounge in bed for a while, waiting for the phone call I know is coming. Shane calls every day while he gets the girls ready for school and daycare. He says he likes to start the day by hearing my voice, but I know he also appreciates the way the girls jump into action when they hear me. Shane can beg and plead with them until he’s blue in the face, and they’ll continue to drag their feet and procrastinate getting dressed. But as soon as I tell them the quicker they get to school, the quicker the day will be over and I can pick them up, it’s like a fire gets lit under their little behinds and makes Shane’s life a million times easier.
I spend the rest of my morning trying to work, but most of that time is spent staring at the clock, counting down the hours and minutes until it’s time to go get the girls. After that, we spend the afternoons at Shane’s, playing and getting dinner ready.
And after he comes home… well, that’s my favorite time of all. He always greets the girls first, as any father should. He’ll ask them about their days, kneel down beside them and get them to talk about whatever it is they’re playing with or coloring or watching… and then once he’s sure they’re completely engrossed in their activities, he whisks me away to the kitchen.
We spend the next five minutes making out like teenagers, trying to keep our giggles and whispers quiet so the girls don’t overhear us. We both agreed it was a good idea to keep our new… relationship… from them for a while. The last thing either of us wanted was to upset or confuse them, and with the death of their mother still so fresh…
Another wave of guilt tears through me as Felicity’s face flashes through my mind. I still don’t understand how this happened. How I had allowed this to happen.
The day after Shane and I had slept together, I’d told him it couldn’t happen again. His brows had pulled tight and his shoulders had slumped, but he agreed it was probably for the best. We agreed we’d go back to the way things were, with me being around for the girls for the remainder of my time in town.
I’d been relieved that he hadn’t tried to fight me. That he seemed just as aware of how impossible this whole situation is as I was. But deep down, there had been a part of me that had been a little…disappointed. I knew we couldn’t be together, but that didn’t mean it still didn’t sting that he’d been able to give up so easily.
But Monday afternoon had changed everything. I had no clue what had happened to change his mind, but as he followed me to the kitchen to help get dinner on the table, he’d pinned me to the kitchen counter. When I tried to push him away, to tell him we couldn’t do this, he’d shut me up with a hard kiss.
I’d been a little dazed when he finally pulled back, my lips swollen and bruised, my heart racing in my chest. When I’d finally gotten my wits about me and asked him what that was about, he’d said, “I’m sick of fighting the way I feel about you. You’re what my heart needs, and who am I to deny my heart?”
Since that night, we’d been stealing kisses and touches whenever we could. I hadn’t been this giddy about a guy since… well, ever. I’d never dated much in high school, back when every new relationship made you feel like it was the end-all, be all of your existence. And college… well, I’d been far too focused on my degree to worry about boys. I’d had a few relationships since my move to
Chicago. But they’d been… underwhelming, to say the least.
I’m not sure what it is about Shane that makes him so different. But I know I’m having a hell of a good time trying to find out.
Once my head feels like it’s cooled down enough for round two of the drying process, I grab the hairdryer and bend at the waist, flipping my head upside down. Just as I’m about to switch it back on, my phone rings from its place on the hotel bed.
My heart skips a beat, knowing it must be Shane. Gracie is probably dawdling, unable to make up her mind on which sweater she wants to wear today. I swear that little girl could give even the best-dressed fashionista a run for her money in the wardrobe department.
I hustle across the room and dive onto the bed, grabbing my phone in the process. Rolling over onto my back, I hold the phone up, my face falling when I see it’s not Shane calling. It’s my boss, Izzy.
I quickly shake off my disappointment, answering the phone with a cheery “hello.” It’s been far too long since I talked to Izzy. I know she has to be concerned about my lack of communication.
“Kate? Is that you?” Her voice comes across the other line, her uncertainty clear in her tone.
I chuckle lightly. “It’s me, Iz. Why? Were you expecting someone else?”
She humphs. “No. I just don’t think I’ve ever heard you sound quite so… peppy, before.”
Another laugh rolls through me. “And I don’t think anybody has ever used that word to describe me in my life. Outside of those two weeks in grade school where I attempted to join All-Star Cheerleading.”
“You were a cheerleader?” she deadpans.
“Very, very briefly. Would you believe they told me I didn’t have enough spirit?” I ask, pretending to be shocked.
“You? Never.”
We share a laugh, and I hear the shift in hers before she pulls in a breath. I start in on my apology before she can even speak.
“Look, Izzy, I’m sorry about my productivity lately. I know I’m behind, and I know I’ve been terrible at providing updates. The last thing I want is to put my job in jeopardy—”
