He read the question in her eyes. She’d want to know if he was ready to move on.
She put words to her thoughts, and he had to credit her courage as she asked, “Do you think you’ll ever marry again?”
She wanted to know if he was still in mourning. Was a person ever done mourning? The answer was complicated, but it was one his heart finally understood.
“I will marry again,” he said firmly. He’d thought those words before, but now, for the first time, he truly felt them. “It’s been over three years since her accident. She’d want me to move on. ” For the first time, he felt the truth of those words.
Sully had been right. Keri—tough, smart-as-a-whip Keri—would have kicked his ass from beyond if she’d caught him wasting one more night wallowing. “She’d want me to find love again. ”
“But do you…can you…” Sorrow was struggling for words.
“Let’s find out. ” Billy cupped the back of her head and leaned down. And then he kissed her.
Twenty-six
Billy’s strong arms were around her, and she felt herself pulled onto her toes, her heart soaring even higher than her body.
After spending so much time looking at him, it felt so good finally to feel him. She wrapped her arms around him, greedily touching the stubble of his jaw, stroking his hair, squeezing the thick muscles of arms and shoulders, savoring each texture, memorizing the size of him.
She felt his hardness straining against her already, pressing hot and insistent along her body, and a whimper escaped her throat. Her desire was immediate and consuming, an ache in her belly. She was mad with it.
For months, she’d been kissing Damien, and it was a shock to be kissing someone else. Even though they’d broken up, the newness, the revelation of this other man made her feel dirty and hot.
Because whatever she’d fantasized about Billy, it hadn’t been this. He was so gentle and kind in life, she’d expected a gentle, kind kiss. But this…this kiss was anything but hesitant. He was demanding. Confident.
And so big.
She felt his size as a visceral thing, his heat and strength imprinting along her body. She’d known Billy was a large man—he was broad and solid in his sheriff’s uniform—but when he’d opened the door shirtless, she’d had to force herself not to stare. The man was ripped, and her hands roved him, eagerly feeling what she’d seen with her eyes. He was so firm and sure, and she felt so small in his arms. She felt safe.
She felt taken.
They kissed with desperation, and still it wasn’t enough. She wanted Billy to take her, to take it all.
She’d had questions for him, but she no longer remembered them. All she knew was the throbbing between her thighs, the tightness in her breasts. All she wanted was to leap into his arms, wrap her legs around him, and quell this urgency.
A timer sounded in the kitchen.
No no no.
Sorrow wanted to ignore it, wanted it to go away. She couldn’t stop kissing him, not now. She did ignore it, and instead scraped her fingers along his scalp, twining his hair into her fists. Her heart pounded till she felt she might not catch her breath. She wanted him completely, wanted completion. She wanted Billy to kiss her forever.
But the timer continued to ring.
Finally, slowly, he parted from her and touched his forehead to hers. “Damn. ”
She shut her eyes, pained. Inhaling deeply, she pulled away. When their eyes met, they shared a slow smile—it began as something wicked and naughty, like a shared secret, but as the timer continued to blare in the background, the moment grew more conspiratorial, until they were laughing. Stepping back, she slapped a hand to her forehead. “Sorry. ”
“Don’t worry. The potatoes might be done, but we’re not. ” He wrapped an arm tight around her shoulders, walking her slowly into the kitchen. “You and I are far from done. ”
He didn’t ease away from her, wouldn’t let her go, and the feel of him, the sensation of being so coveted transformed something deep inside her. Sorrow wanted another kiss, and more than another kiss. She’d show him what she was really made of.
When she’d arrived and seen photos of his wife, it’d scared her. Losing a spouse so young—a person might never recover from a thing like that. Her first thought was, how could she ever compare to such a pretty, sophisticated, powerful woman?
But that kiss. He’d kissed her, and instead of doubt, all she’d tasted was hunger.
All through her dinner preparations, Sorrow’s skin buzzed, sensing his eyes on her, feeling his occasional touches grazing along her shoulders, down her back, leaving trails of fire along her body. Her whole being was attuned to him. Every look between them, every move, charged.
If she were being honest, it was something that’d started weeks ago, that night she’d cooked for him for the first time. Their bond had been instant, and the sparks, too. Meeting in the kitchen like this had felt like a secret courtship. Getting to know Billy over homemade food and loaded glances, till one morning she’d woken up to realize she was falling in love with him.