Page 81 of Forsaken Hearts
Helen turned toward her, studying her face before a knowing smile spread slowly across her own. “So.” She crossed her arms with an attitude Summer could only call smug. “Tell me about that man.”
Heat crept into her cheeks before she could stop it. “Oh my god.”
Granny chuckled. “There it is at last—the reaction of a flesh and blood woman. I’d say ifthatgorgeous man can’t rouse something inside you, he’s either doing it all wrong or you’re dead.”
She laughed at her own joke, and Summer joined her, moving quickly away from her own front door in case Vander was still nearby.
“You’ve got the look, dearie.”
“What look?”
She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “The one that says you’re completely head over heels for him.”
She opened her mouth to deny it, but what was the point? It didn’t make her weaker to love Vander—totally the opposite.
Helen squeezed her hand. “I’m so happy for you. He seems like a good one.”
Her dear friend’s words struck a chord inside her. For years, she’d convinced herself nobody decent would willingly step into the complicated mess of her life.
The single mom schedule, unpaid bills, fear of what would hit next and exhaustion. So much exhaustion.
Her own parents tried to help her find balance by giving her time without Ben, but it was Vander who changed the rhythm of her life.
She squeezed Helen’s tough, thin fingers. “I think you’re right, Helen.”
The woman’s eyes creased more with her smile. “Of course I’m right.” She released her hand. “Go enjoy your man.”
Laughing under her breath, she headed back inside, feeling wound too tight with happiness to sit still. Sun streamed through the kitchen window, bathing the space in a warm glow. Vander stood at the counter, still staring down at his phone. His shoulders were hard boulders of strain.
Concern nudged the edges of her happiness. “Everything okay?”
He glanced up and locked the screen. “Yeah.”
The way he answered told her it probably wasn’t entirely true, but before she could register what that could be—and before she could talk herself out of it—she crossed the room in quick strides.
Grabbing his shirt in both fists, she surged onto tiptoe and kissed him.
He issued a rough noise low in his throat, and his hands landed on her waist.
Summer kissed him harder in response, pouring every ounce of joy and relief and terrifying love straight into the caress.
Sliding her hands under his shirt, she touched the velvet steel of his muscled body. She needed him close, needed him touching her.
Needed to show him how much she loved him without saying a word.
Vander backed her against the counter, mouth moving against hers, hot and demanding enough to make her knees sag.
When she skimmed her fingers lower to work his belt open, he growled against her lips. “Summer.”
She smiled against his. “We only have so much time together before Ben’s home and we can’t have sex in the kitch—”
Her words ended in a squeal as he claimed her mouth. The hot, demanding flip of his tongue sent electric shockwaves through her core, but the way his eyes darkened with a look she could only call possessive sent her over the edge.
She shoved his shirt up, and he broke the kiss long enough to yank it over his head. Her breath caught at the sight of him. The man took every last brain cell just by standing in her kitchen shirtless in the warm yellow light.
With a moan, she grabbed him again. Their lips collided, urgency building with every heartbeat that passed.
He tore off her shirt, casting it aside. Then her bra loosened around her torso and fell away too.
