Page 31 of The Neighborly Thing To Do
Everything about this grates on my soul. Yes, I do know what she means. I do understand that she considers our marriage atemporary stop for us both while I’ve been falling more and more under her spell every single day. Cassidy doesn’t have magic, but she’s enchanted me nonetheless. I don’t want to leave her side. I want every single moment I can get with her, and I want to be the man that terrifies people who treat her wrong.
I can either back down, or I can go all in, and really make how I feel clear to her.
Fuck it.I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself if I let this end with her thinking it didn’t matter. This could blow up in my face, and I might be causing my marriage to end sooner than it needs to, but I need to try.
“Cassidy,” I say firmly, “you are my wife. Not just when they’re watching. Not just when it’s convenient. You. Are. My. Wife.”
And before she can respond, I lean in, cup her jaw, and kiss her.
Chapter 16
Cassidy
His kiss feels like fire.
It’s exactly the kind of fire I need after a night like tonight. It warms me, sustains me, helps me push past the broken rage into somethingmore.
Something like us. Something like whatever this kiss represents.
I can still hear him, so insistent that I’m his wife. That I’mhis.Has he been dancing around the question of how real this feels as much as I have?
I’m straddling his lap now, kissing him like I can’t possibly let go. I trail a hand across his chest, regretting the damned shirt. I practically never saw him wearing one when I’d glimpse him across the yard, but he seems to be under the impressionthat he needs to wear one at this house. I need to convince him otherwise.
I pull at the hem, bringing it up to expose his stomach, wanting, needing to touch skin. Finn breaks the kiss to murmur, “Wings,” and takes over removing his own shirt.
I study the movements, determined to know how to get the shirt around his wings for next time.
That thought is like a bucket of water over my head. If there is a next time. Will there be a next time? Or is this it?
I should ride it out, get the most of it, but I don’t like not knowing. “Finn,” I begin, unable to help myself from running a hand over his now-exposed chest. Fuck, he’s gorgeous. I want to study him for hours. “What are we doing?”
He goes still. “I guess that depends on what you want.”
“You started this,” I point out, hoping I don’t sound too childish. But I need him to say it first.
He exhales slowly, then nods. “I did. Cassidy, I’ll give you whatever you want. If this is an arrangement with benefits to you, then I’ll happily take it. But…” He trails off.
“But?” I prompt.
“But I want more. I want you, Cassidy.” He looks at me with wide, earnest eyes. “I don’t know if you feel it, but I do. We’re great together. Thisworks.I know it’s not what either of us expected, but it does. And I want to see where this goes, but for real this time. No more pretending, no more acting. I want to kiss you when I pick you up from work and when we makedinner at home. I want to make sure you’re treated right in public and watch rom-coms on the couch together in private. I want time with us, together.”
I swallow. That’s a lot all at once, but I can’t look away from him. “I don’t cramp your loner style?” I ask.
He snorts. “What loner style? All I remember is you, wife. You and I together until the end. Nothing else before that matters.”
His words and sincerity send a jolt of electricity through my core. Finn is serious. Finn wants me. “You want to date me?” I ask, although he just called mewife.
Like we’re on the same page, he says, “Dating sounds like a step back from marriage, but I guess we have to start somewhere.” He leans in again, watching my mouth. “Can I kiss you again, Cassidy?”
Fuck it. Yes, he can, because he’s right. This isn’t an act we’re putting on. If he went home tomorrow and we went back to barely speaking, I don’t know what I’d do with myself. Finn makes my world better, more full and alive. I want him.
I lean in and initiate the kiss myself this time, and he eagerly responds.
I thought our kisses before today were something. Acting had no right to be that hot. But this is a whole other level, a previously untapped scale of attractiveness. I might melt into a puddle of wetness right here on his lap, and I wouldn’t be able to stop it. That’s what he does to me.
I’m glad his shirt is gone as I explore his skin, taking in every inch of him. He gets the same idea, his hands pushing up under my shirt. I should take it off. I want him to touch me, want to feel his hands on my skin, want to know what he’s like as a lover—
I freeze, unable to convince myself to take that step. He notices right away, pulling back so he can look me in the eyes when he asks, “Cassidy? What is it?”
