Angelo was just going to run in and check on the kids, but I asked him if I could come in, being more forward than I ever have been.

I wasn’t ready to call it a night. Spending time with him was no hardship. He made me feel good about myself and more like the old me. The one before Mitchell died.

His house is charming and warm. Everything I’d expect inside a house filled with little kids. Toys are everywhere. But walking across wood floors covered in Legos isn’t easy in five-inch heels. I sit on the edge of the couch, watching him as he pays the babysitter before she rushes out of the house.

“You’re really okay with this?” Angelo asks as he sits next to me.

“How could I not be? This is perfect.” I ease back into the most comfortable couch I’ve ever sat on. “I’ll grab a taxi later. That’s the best part of living in the city.”

“At least the kids are asleep. Take off your shoes and put your feet up. Relax a little.” Angelo stares at my feet and grimaces. “I don’t know how you wear those things.”

I pry the leather shoes from my feet and drop them between the table and the couch. “I’m ridiculously short without them.”

Even with me wearing the heels, Angelo towers over me. Most people do. The extra height makes me more confident. They’re like my battle armor. I feel invincible as soon as I gain a few inches. It’s weird. I know. But you’d have to walk a mile with my short-ass legs to understand.

“How short?” He raises one eyebrow.

“I probably wouldn’t even come up to your chin.” I giggle.

He stands and holds out his hands, wiggling his fingers. “Let me see.”

I slide my fingers across his, gripping his hands tightly. I almost squeal when he pulls me to my feet like I weigh nothing. The power in his arms is so freaking hot, but somehow, I maintain my dignity. “See.” I peer up at him as we stand only a few inches apart.

He tightens his grip, and the air shifts. “I like you shorter.”

My stomach flips. “Well, I…” I go suddenly stupid because the man’s looking at me like I’m one of those cupcakes I have in my display. “I feel so small compared to you.”

Angelo’s not only tall, he’s built like a beast. Wide shoulders and bulging muscles everywhere. “You are.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear that has fallen free from my updo.

The gesture’s so sweet, I practically melt into a pile of goo right before his eyes. When his fingers slide down and he cups my face in his hand, I damn near lose it.

“Do you feel that?” he asks in a sexy, deep voice that would make any lady weak in the knees.

“Yeah,” I whisper, unable to take my eyes off his.

He doesn’t have to explain what he’s talking about. I feel everything, and there’s no denying the attraction. Maybe our souls are drawn to each other. Kindred spirits bound by our grief, and they can only find reprieve and comfort in the other. Kismet built of misery.

We stare at each other with one hand still locked together and his other hand still on my face. My skin breaks out in goose bumps, loving the feel of his thumb grazing my cheek.

I want to kiss him so badly. More than I’ve wanted to kiss someone in years. My body craves his touch.

“I want to kiss you,” he says like he’s unsure and maybe asking permission.

“I want you to kiss me too.”

He leans forward, gazing at me with nothing short of pure fire. His eyes search my face, and I feel the full heat of his stare. He moves his hand, releasing his grip on my fingers, and slides it around my back. There’s a moment that passes between us as our breathing picks up and I swear I can hear the pounding of his heart. It matches my own.

The closer he gets, the faster my heart beats. It’s been so long since I’ve kissed anyone on the lips. I almost wonder if I even know how to kiss properly anymore or if I’ll fail miserably. All the doubt I felt as an awkward teenager comes rushing back, and my body shakes.

“Are you okay?” he asks with his lips only inches from mine.

“Do it,” I reply, unable to take my eyes off him. “Kiss me.”

I need his lips against mine more than I need the air in my lungs. The past doesn’t exist. The future is unknown. All we have is this moment. This kiss.

His fingers tighten behind my neck, pulling my face to his. The heat I saw earlier in his eyes has turned into a raging inferno.

I lean into him, waiting for his mouth, and close my eyes. I’m practically begging for the kiss, and my body’s vibrating with anticipation. A kiss shouldn’t be this monumental, but this one is.

At first, he kisses me so gently, I almost don’t feel his lips against mine. My skin tingles, and my heart’s beating wildly out of control because I know there’s no turning back now. I wouldn’t want to either. In five years, no man has even turned my head, but Angelo’s not only hot, he understands me.

My front presses against his chest, loving the hardness of him as he wraps one arm around my back and eliminates all the space between us. We stand there, kissing softly, bodies pressed together, and nothing else seems to matter.

Live in the present. I remind myself of the mantra I promised to follow for the last two years. There is nothing more present than Angelo and the way he’s holding me in his arms. His smell, spicy and full man, surrounds me and roots me in the moment.

He pulls away and stares down at me. “Do you want to stop?” he whispers.

“No.” I slide my hands up his arms and lock my fingers behind his neck. “Kiss me like we only have tonight.”

His eyes search mine for a moment, then his mouth is on mine. This time, a little harder than before, but he’s still holding back. I slide my fingers up the back of his neck, tethering myself to him and pulling his face closer.

He has me weak in the knees the moment he turns his head and his teeth tug at my bottom lip. I moan my appreciation, wanting more, needing to taste him. I could stay like this forever. The rest of the world be damned.

I haven’t felt this much pure joy and sheer pleasure in five long years. There’s nothing like the touch of another person or the lips of a hot man, reminding me I’m alive and there’s more than just sadness left in my body.

I want him. I want his kiss. I want his arms. I want everything he has to give.

He walks me backward, easing me onto the couch and covering me with his body. But his hands stay at my sides, careful not to go further. I can appreciate that. I could lose myself in this man, but I’m not sure either of us is ready for more than the way we’re kissing each other.

His weight is delicious on top of me. I feel so small underneath his massive frame. Protected and cocooned. My body’s on fire, getting ahead of my mind.

Then it happens. Angelo sweeps his tongue inside my mouth, giving me the first taste of his sweetness. My hands roam his back as our tongues tangle together, speaking to each other without saying a word. I dig my fingernails into his shoulders, wanting more—and needing it just as much too.