Page 8 of Take My Kiss
The most shocking thing is that no one banged on the walls or called the front desk about the excessive volume.
By the time we collapsed next to each other, trying to catch our breaths, my heart was damn near pounding out of my chest.
Typically, sex was sex. It felt good, but I didn’t feelmorethe way most people did. Or supposed to, at least. That once-in-a-lifetime connection. The desperate need to be near them twenty-four-seven. That desire for more thanjustsex.
I wanted that, of course, but it hadn’t happened.
I never felt that rush of feelings before, and I never,everexpected to feel it after one night.
Amelia was different. Nothing as I predicted.
And that was both thrilling and scary as hell.
Especially because she felt it too.
Except when I glance over to her side of the bed, it’s empty.
Not even messy. It’s been made—comforter tightly pulled up, pillow freshly fluffed.
Still naked, I stand and search the room. Only my clothes from last night are scattered on the floor, and there’s no sign she was here.
Fuck, maybe I dreamed it.
Is it normal to still have wet dreams at twenty-eight?
A small, shiny earring next to my wallet and phone on the nightstand captures my attention, and I know with certainty that last night was real.
And she left without a word or note on how to contact her.
chapter one
Amelia
PRESENT DAY
The front wheelof the buggy shakes wildly as I push it down the cereal aisle, but I’m in too much of a hurry to get a different one. I already got a late start because I couldn’t find my keys, then my three-year-old daughter decided she had to use the potty the moment I buckled her into her booster seat.
If that wasn’t frustrating enough, the child seat lock is busted, so Lily’s bouncing around nonstop.
It’s been one ofthosedays.
My eight-year-old son hasn’t been sleeping well—nightmares constantly waking him up—which means I’m not sleeping well either. Wilder’s teenage cousin Mallory babysat him a few months ago and let him watch a scary movie, and it’s haunted him in his dreams ever since. And tanked my sleep quality. He tends to hog the bed and?—
I quickly look to my right, then my left, but his hand isn’t on the side of the buggy like it’s supposed to be. Looking behind me, the aisle’s empty.
“Sam!”
He knows he’s not supposed to run off in stores, especially when we’re rushing.
I have my online class tonight, so I need to feed them dinner before Raven comes over to help watch them. Her daughter is one and plays with my two while I try to focus for three hours at my computer.
“Sam, where are you?” My voice cracks as I turn the buggy around and sprint toward the front of the store. It’s not a huge one, but big enough for me to lose sight of him. “Sam!”
My heart beats erratically, thinking the worst, but trying not to go down that path. My anxiety’s always been high, but with two kids and a past I’m trying desperately to keep in the past, my nervous system doesn’t always know the difference between a knock at my door and a bomb going off.
“Is everythin’ alright?” one of the employees asks as I scan the next aisle.
“My son. I can’t find him. He’s eight. Brown hair. Small for his age. Have you seen him?”
