Until Then (Cornerstone Book 2) (31 page)

His fingertips trailed along either side of her neck, his thumbs gently brushing her cheeks, as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

She was surprised at how familiar his kisses felt, yet so new at the same time. It seemed so strange to be kissing this man, whom she had kissed so long ago, when he was just a boy, and she just a girl. But they weren’t eighteen any more, and he was no longer a boy. He was a man — a strong, mature, passionate man. A man who knew how to kiss a woman.

He pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since that night at the basketball game.”

She couldn’t contain her smile.

He leaned in and kissed her again, softly caressing the back of her neck, playing with the wispy hairs that had fallen from her messy bun. His kisses were as tender and perfect as she remembered. Goosebumps spread over her entire body, as he led them into a wonderful fog of sensation and longing. She never wanted it to stop.

She slowly slid her hands up his back, relishing in the feel of his skin beneath her fingertips. His mouth left hers and moved along her jaw, his breath hot against her neck. When his lower lip brushed her earlobe, she buried her fingers in his hair and tilted his head, kissing him deeply.

A little moan sounded in the back of his throat, and he swiftly turned them, until she was pinned between him and the kitchen island. With one hand flat against her back, one behind her neck, he leaned into the kiss. She snaked her arms around his neck and arched her back, wanting to be closer.

“Dad?” a small voice came from the stairway behind them.

Sean stepped away immediately.

Aaron stood bleary-eyed, staring at the two of them. “I can’t sleep.”

“Maybe some warm milk will help, bud,” Sean stuttered.

“OK,” Aaron replied.

Sean went about preparing the milk for his son.

Michelle stepped out of the way and crossed her arms. Her hands were shaking, both from being caught and from the blood pounding through her veins.

Sean looked over at her and mouthed, “Wow!”

She grinned and held in a giggle.

Once Aaron had finished his milk, he gave Sean a hug goodnight, then shuffled over to Michelle and hugged her, too.

“Goodnight, Michelle.”

“Goodnight.” She placed a hand over her heart and looked over at Sean, who was wearing the biggest smile on his face.

They watched Aaron walk back up the stairs to his room, and their eyes met.

“Should we talk about what just happened?” She wanted it to happen again. Right now.

He walked slowly toward her with a look that said he, too, wanted to pick up where they left off.

She took a step backwards, flirting with her eyes.

He caught her and slid his arms around her waist, resting his forehead against hers. “I really wanna take you down that little hallway right there.” He nodded toward his bedroom.

She swallowed hard, and that old familiar tingling took over her body. “Sean.”

His lips pressed feathery soft kisses on her cheek, her neck, her ear. He spoke in a whisper. “I never wanna stop kissing you.”

Butterflies. So many butterflies. She needed to gather what little control she had left, before this went too far. She didn’t trust herself with Sean, because she wanted him more than she’d ever wanted another man — even Simon.

“Why did you stop writing me?” she blurted out. It was the only thing she could think of to stop his advances.

He pulled back and looked at her.

“I sent you letter after letter, and you just stopped.”

“I don’t know,” he answered sheepishly. “It was a long time ago.”

She looked down sadly.

“Life happened, I guess.”

Her eyes met his again. She was disappointed in that answer. “Life happened? That’s it?”

“I don’t know what else to say.”

What she wanted was for him to admit that Lindsay was the real reason he had stopped writing her.

He shrugged. “I’m not much of a letter writer.”

“I’m not either, but I wrote you every week, even when your letters weren’t coming.”

“I know.” His eyes fell away from hers.

“And you wouldn’t return my calls.”

“I’m sorry.” He hugged her comfortingly. “You have no idea how sorry I am for all of it.”

The old pain resurfaced without warning, and she fought back tears. “You broke my heart, Sean.”

His shoulders slumped. “I never meant to hurt you, but I had to do the right thing.”

She leaned back, her brow furrowed, and looked into his eyes.

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. “I got Lindsay pregnant,” he admitted hesitantly.

“Oh.” It was all she could think to say. This was not what she had expected. If she had done the math, she probably could have figured out that Ashley was born less than nine months after Sean’s wedding, but it never crossed her mind. She didn’t know what to say. She stepped out of his arms and moved toward the window, staring at her own reflection against the darkness of night.

“When I came home from Cornerstone, I was feeling really down. My parents tried to be supportive, but I could feel how disappointed they were in me. I tried to throw myself into classes and basketball and not think about how much I wanted to just drop out and move back to Michigan to be with you.”

She looked over at him then.

“Lindsay was in my study group. She was nice to me, and she encouraged me when I was at my lowest. And one night, it just happened.”

She chewed the inside of her lip to keep from crying. It hurt to hear the truth, even after fourteen years. She was overcome with sadness. If not for Sean’s one night with Lindsay, they might have stayed together. And if not for her one night with Sean, none of it would have happened in the first place.

“Please say something.” His voice held an edge of panic. “What are you thinking?”

“Thank you for telling me the truth.” The war she was waging against her tears was becoming a losing battle. Her chin began to quiver. Her throat ached. She closed her eyes to fight them off.

He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. His lips met the back of her neck and pressed softly over and over. “I need you to forgive me, Michelle.” He spoke in between kisses. “Please.” One of his hands slid slowly back and forth across her stomach. “I need you.”

She turned into him, a few tears escaping, and fierce lips met hers. These kisses were different, desperate. His hands held her firmly to him, like he was afraid she might slip away. The intensity scared her, and she tore her lips from his.

He let go and took her hands, leading her out of the kitchen toward his bedroom hallway.

Her feet stopped moving, and she froze. “Wait, Sean. We can’t.”

He stopped her protests with another deep kiss and walked backwards, pulling her with him along the hallway.

Something about his sudden desperation felt wrong. She got a nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach, and that little voice in her head told her this was going way too fast. She stepped away to catch her breath, but he reached for her again and pressed her against the nearest wall, kissing her neck, his hands wandering.

Being close to him felt amazing, but the reality of the situation began to sink in. The way he was clinging to her felt like now or never, like everything had to be settled tonight or it never would, and she realized this wasn’t as simple as Sean just wanting her. This had much more to do with losing his wife than needing her forgiveness, much more than he probably realized. This was about grief and loss and loneliness, and it was so much bigger than the two of them.

She wiggled from his grip and walked quickly back to the kitchen. He followed close behind, and she spun around to face him.

“Is this why you asked me to come here?” She nodded toward his bedroom.

“What? No.” His eyes widened.

She pressed her lips together and shook her head sadly. “You’re lonely. You’re lonely, and you miss your wife.”

“Michelle.” He moved toward her again, but she held up her hands to stop him.

“You’re not ready for this.” She took a deep breath in and released it shakily. “You’re still grieving, and I refuse to be just a warm body to fill the empty place she left behind.”

His mouth dropped open.

“The truth is, we don’t know each other all that well. We barely dated fourteen years ago, and we’ve had some nice phone conversations.”

“It’s more than that, and you know it.”

The tears threatened to fall again. “We never said we were a couple. We’re just friends.”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Maybe it’s best for both of us if we keep it that way.” She walked toward the stairs.

“Michelle.” He grabbed her arm, his expression pained. “I don’t wanna be just your friend.”

Her heart ached. How many times had she longed for someone to say those exact words? “I think I should go.”

“No, please. Please don’t leave like this,” he begged. “Please. Let’s talk about this.”

She bit her lip to hold back the tears. “I’m really tired. Let’s just talk in the morning.” Her feet moved quickly up the stairs to her room. She closed the door and threw herself onto the bed, burying her sobs in the pillow.

22

The sun shining through the window and the sound of birds chirping roused her. The pillowcase beneath her head was tear-stained, and her arms hurt from squeezing it so tightly. She sat up and stretched her arms above her head. Memories of the night before came rushing back. She was more than a little disappointed — especially in herself for hinging all of her happiness on a lonely widower.

She climbed out of bed and quickly dressed, brushed her hair up into her usual messy bun, and went to work packing her things. This was not how she thought the weekend would go.

The smell of coffee and sizzling sausage wafted under the door and made her stomach growl. She took a deep breath, blew it out, and hesitantly headed down to the kitchen.

Aaron met her at the foot of the stairs. “We made you breakfast.” He led her to the head of the table, where there was a pretty place setting, a linen napkin, and a tall vase filled with red and yellow tulips and purple hyacinths. She took her seat and admired the flowers, while Aaron brought her a plate of pancakes, sausage, and scrambled eggs, and a glass of orange juice.

“Thank you, Aaron. This is so sweet of you.”

“Dad helped,” he replied.

She glanced over at Sean, who was standing over a griddle, flipping pancakes. He smiled sweetly at her, which caused her heart to flutter.

Aaron got a plate of food for himself, sat down next to her, and bowed his head to give thanks for his food before he dug in.

She couldn’t help but love this kid already. He seemed incredibly mature for his age.

“Where’s Ashley?” Michelle asked.

“She sleeps ’til noon,” Aaron replied.

Michelle nodded and took a bite of pancake.

Sean finished in the kitchen and brought his plate over to sit on the other side of the table next to Michelle. “Morning.”

She noticed his eyes were bloodshot, and she wondered if he had lost sleep, too.

“Morning.” She was embarrassed and unsure what to say to him. “Looks like a nice day.” It was all she could think of.

“Perfect for some soccer,” Aaron announced.

Sean looked at Michelle. “He’s got a soccer tournament today.”

“Oh.” She smiled at Aaron. “Good luck. I hope you have fun and your team wins.”

“Wait, you’re not coming?”

“Oh, no, Aaron. I’m going home today.”

The sad look on his face broke her heart.

“Aw, I thought you were staying ’til tomorrow.”

She glanced over at Sean, then back at Aaron. “I don’t think I can.”

Sean looked down at his plate.

“Pleeease,” Aaron begged. “After the game, we’re going out for pizza.”

That face. That sweet little face. How could she refuse him?

She sighed. “Maybe just until tonight.”

“Yeah!” Aaron threw his hands in the air in celebration.

Sean smiled at her. His blue eyes lit up.

And how could she refuse Aaron’s dad?

So this is what it’s like to be a soccer mom.
Sean drove his minivan from house to house, picking up Aaron’s teammates for the game. The vehicle was bursting at the seams with soccer players, their gear, and a cooler loaded with water and Gatorade. Michelle glanced over her shoulder at the boys, who were talking incessantly about how they were going to kick the other team’s butts and how good their victory pizza was going to taste.