“Come to me instead.”

I heard his words in my head, and I felt how serious he was in the way he gripped my wrist.

But going to him meant not running off to the bathroom where I would cry into my hands, where I’d eventually put my face under the faucet and try to calm myself down so that I could return to my room. That was what my emotions were pushing me toward—tears and quietness and air that didn’t have Jack in it.

Because, even though I’d listened to his confession, I still couldn’t believe it.

He wanted my daughter.

He wanted me.

He wanted us.

I was getting everything I’d dreamed about, and I couldn’t hold it together. There were tears, spit, and even snot.

I was a mess.

But he looked at me like I was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

He squeezed me harder and said, “Samantha, come to me.”

I felt myself moving.

I saw the distance between us close.

I heard his breathing as his body was suddenly pressed against mine.

“It’s your turn to tell me what you want.”

Since I’d left his condo, I’d only thought the worst. My mind had returned to the pain I’d felt eight years ago, and I’d begun to go through it again until all of that changed a few minutes ago.

“You,” I whispered through tears, several of them falling over my mouth. “Just you and Lucy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

He lifted my chin, so I was now looking at him. “I want to kiss you.” He exhaled, and I smelled the spiciness of his cologne. “But, because Lucy is in this apartment, I’m asking for your permission.”

He’d kept every promise he’d made when he called me from downstairs.

My lids shut, and I felt more wetness on my face. I took a breath and opened my eyes again. “Kiss me, Jack. Please. Make all the pain go away.”

His lips didn’t smash against mine, nor did he grip me with the kind of power that he normally used. Instead, he was gentle, completely in tune with what I needed, giving me the softness I craved from him tonight.

His tongue teased mine, his hands rising until he finally cupped my cheeks, swiping the tears with his thumbs. Then, he used his palms to wipe the rest of it, eventually pulling away to press his nose into mine.

He breathed.

My eyes stayed closed as I was filled with his scent again.

“Her first word was cat,” I told him, my bottom lip starting to quiver even harder.

“Cat,” he repeated, as though he were trying to hear her voice. He kissed down my neck and stopped underneath my chin. “Because you had one?”

“No.” His mouth felt so amazingly good, it was hard to hold in the moans, yet there were still tears, plenty of them, streaming down the sides of my face. “Her favorite book had a cat in it, and I read it to her every day.”

“Samantha…” He continued to kiss my neck until he reached the other side where he went up to my cheek and stilled. “Let them fall, baby. I’ll lick every one.”

It was too much—his tenderness, his touch.

His love.

His tongue flattened, and he swiped up several. Then, his hands held my head back, and I felt his lips press against my collarbone and gradually work up until he reached my mouth. “I want to make love to you.”

Since Lucy was born, I’d felt him inside my apartment. Every time I gazed into my daughter’s eyes, it was like staring directly into his.

And, now, he was here.

In my bedroom.

He wanted me, and I wanted him.

I’d heard everything he’d said to me, but I needed to feel those words. I needed his touch to make me whole again.

“Jack,” I said, tasting a tear as it fell onto my tongue, “I need you.”

He dropped to my chest, caressing and licking the spots not hidden under my tank top.

When I finally looked down, my eyes connected with his. Goose bumps spread across my body as he breathed into my skin.

“Her favorite color is blue.”

He breathed again. Deeper this time. “Titans blue?”

“Yes, that exact one for that exact reason.”

His hands went to my ass, and he lifted me into the air, wrapped me around his waist, and carried me to the bed. He placed me in the middle of it.

With my lips still on his, I said, “Her favorite food to eat is Italian.”

“Just like her mom.”

As he kissed me, he took off my tank and pulled down my shorts. I wasn’t wearing a bra or panties. The only thing that covered any part of me was my glasses that shielded my eyes.

If I took those off, I wouldn’t be able to see him.

He tossed his polo shirt onto the floor, finally showing me the body I’d been thinking about since I last ran my hands over it. He had broad, muscular shoulders and a well-defined chest that sprouted a thin layer of dark hair. A set of abs followed, each one indented and outlined, and toward the bottom of his torso, a V cut across his sides and disappeared under his waist.

He was perfection.

Once his shorts were off, he pulled a condom out of his wallet and climbed back over me. When he kissed me, it was so soft. A subtle touch of his lips. The gentle brushing of his skin on mine.

I felt him place the foil in my hand, and then his mouth went to my chest, moving across each breast. He spent much more time with my nipples, grazing those with his teeth, sucking them against his tongue.

“She was born at three ten in the morning,” I said as he went across my navel. “And Anna, my best friend, was in the delivery room with me.”

He kissed the very bottom of my stomach. He kissed the center. He kissed over the right side and left, covering the entire section where Lucy had lived.

My tears leaked onto the comforter, and I said, “Jack, I was huge when I was pregnant with her.”

“But I bet you were beautiful. I wish I could have seen you.”

He moved in between my legs, spreading them apart, resting them over his shoulders. Then, his lips pressed against the top of each thigh, going as far as my knees and back up, never getting near my folds. He was taking his time. Tasting, loving. And I was taking in every kiss that he pressed against my body, letting them fuel my emotions, the tears falling even more freely.

Slowly, he moved closer, and I was ready for it. He licked around my lips, pointing his tongue as he rose through the center, eventually flicking the spot at the very top that I liked him to touch the most.

The pleasure spread across my throat and to my breasts and throughout my whole stomach.

My body was melting from him.

And, with every swipe of his tongue, I released a little bit more of the heaviness that had been weighing me down for so long.

With every press of his lips, I felt us moving past the anger.

Because of that, I could start forgiving myself.

Suddenly, my body was more sensitive than it had ever been.

So, when he slipped his face away and his beard scraped my inner thighs, I groaned so loudly.

“Someone’s not being quiet,” he said.

I gripped the blanket between my fingers, wiping the wetness from my cheeks. “I’ve just missed you so much, Jack.”

“Baby…” he said so softly again.

He continued to feast until I tugged his locks so hard, he was forced to work his way back up, his beard tracing the path on my skin. When he reached my chest, his hand went to my face, and it rubbed in the droplets that had fallen in the last few seconds.

He was healing me with his body, the same way I wanted to heal him with my words.

I had to give him more.

I had to give him the moments he’d missed.

I nuzzled my face into his hand and said, “Her favorite sport is swimming.”

“Swimming?” he said as though he were surprised. “I can’t do anything with swimming.” He smiled, and it was so beautiful. “Maybe I can get her a full scholarship, but the potential of going pro is—”

“She’s seven.”

“We need to start her young.”

I laughed through more tears.

His mouth went to mine, and he turned us, so he was sitting by the pillows with his back against the headboard, and I was kneeling in front of him.

He nodded toward the condom, so I ripped the corner of the packet and pulled it out. I positioned it over his tip and rolled it down until the latex reached his base. Then, I climbed on top of him, slowly working him into me.

He was holding my face steady, his thumb on my lips, so he could feel every exhale that came out of my mouth.

The words I was about to say would vibrate over the pad of his finger.

They would hit him the hardest out of everything I’d told him so far.

I closed my eyes, I slowed my movements, and then I connected our stare. “Her full name is Lucy Jacklyn Cole.”

He looked at me with so much adoration in his eyes. “Jacklyn?” he whispered. At first, it sounded like a question, but then his expression told me it had sunk in, hitting him the way I thought it would.

He wrapped me up in his arms, holding me so tightly, and the both of us started trembling.

“Jack, I—”

“I am, too.”

My mouth crashed into his, and I breathed him in as I moaned.

He made the same noise, holding my cheeks like he couldn’t let go, and I knew we were coming together.

When we finally stilled, when it was only our panting that filled the silence, we were still clinging to each other. Our hands and our mouths were so desperate to be close.

“One last question,” he said, each syllable tickling my face as his nose leaned into mine.

I pulled back a few inches to get a better look at him before I placed my hand on his beard. He gave quick, tender pecks to the sides of my fingers, and then his eyes closed just briefly. When they opened again, they were full of tears.

“Do you think she’ll love me?”

A sweet sigh escaped my lips, water pouring from my own lids.

My heart was so full of love for this man.

I ran my hand under his eyes, catching each drip before they fell. Then, I leaned my face into the side of his, hugging him with everything I had, and I whispered, “How could she not?”