Chapter Eight

Emma

The dress I’d worn to the wake didn’t last long. Dylan stripped it off of me as soon as we were in the bedroom. His eyes raked over me, hungry and urgent. I stepped closer to him and reached up to cup the side of his face. A layer of scruff had grown since the first day I’d seen him. It reminded me of the way he’d looked during the summer before he left, when the military was still an unspoken plan. Instead of feeling sad at the memory, I was filled with excitement and heat. We’d made love so many times that summer. In the back of his dad’s car, parked anywhere we could find a dark corner. The windows would fog up, and I’d make little toe prints on the front windshield. He’d scold me but wear a smile the whole time.

Was that the same man standing in front of me? It was hard to imagine myself being that carefree and reckless again—but was he?

As though picking up on my distracted thoughts, he dipped his head and kissed me softly at first. His kiss was familiar and exhilarating at the same time. It felt wrong and right all at the same time. To feel his hands moving up my tummy to my bra. To feel his fingertips trace the swell where my boobs met.

When I couldn’t tell where his mouth ended and mine began, all the thoughts of being wrong or any guilt flew out the window. This was what I wanted. What I needed. And I didn’t want to let him go. Not again.

“You feel good, Em,” he told me as his hands moved around my back. “I missed you so much.”

He unhooked my bra and tugged it away. His eyes went wild at my bared breasts, and his breathing picked up.

“I missed you, too,” I choked out between breaths. He traced my boob with the back of his fingers, and my body lit up. I dropped my head back and let the feel of his warm fingers wash over me.

When he kissed me again it was hot and intense. Hot slickness slid between my thighs, and it was all I could do to keep myself from begging him to touch my aching pussy. My heart pounded hard and fast in my ears, blocking out every thought or distraction. For the first time in forever, we were the only people in the world.

My fingers scratched up Dylan’s back, dragging his t-shirt with them. He let me pull the shirt from him, and I dropped it to the floor before going for the button on his pants. Dylan stripped off his black pants and wasted no time taking his boxer briefs with them. When he was naked in front of me, I took a step back, overwhelmed by the changed man I saw. The transformation of his body was shocking. The Dylan I’d known was always in shape, with sleek muscles and strong arms. But the man in front of me, stripped naked, was like seeing an action movie star come through my TV and into my bedroom. The eyes and face were the same, but the body was like meeting a stranger. Granted, an incredibly enticing one.

“What’s wrong, Em?” Dylan asked, worry etched in his handsome face.

I shook my head and bit into my lower lip. “Nothing. You look good.”

Dylan gave a strange laugh. “Well then, get back over here.” He tugged my hand and pulled me against him. His hard cock pressed against me, and all coherent thoughts melted away.

He moved us back to the bed, but when my legs hit the side of the mattress, guilt seized me. I looked over my shoulder at the bed Tommy and I had shared. I wanted Dylan. Nothing was going to stop me from making love to him, but the idea of taking him into the bed I’d shared with my dead husband and Dylan’s childhood friend gave me pause.

Dylan noticed my lingering gaze and without a word, took my hand.

“I’m sorry—” I shook my head.

“Don’t be.” He tipped my chin up to meet his eyes. “We don’t have to do this tonight.”

“But I want to.” I kissed him again, pouring myself into every move of my lips.

His cock pushed against me, and a fresh rush of tingling heat surged through me. I grabbed him and smiled as he jolted, surprised by the bold touch. He swept me up and placed me on the edge of the bed. “You go touching me like that and I can’t be held responsible for what happens next. And you know it.”

“I was counting on it.”

Dylan smiled and reached for the waistband of my panties. I lifted up from the bed as he stripped them away and then parted my thighs. He ran his thumb along my slit, and my eyes slid closed. Drinking it in. “Should I suit up?”

I guided him to me and shook my head. “I’m on the pill.”

I wanted to feel every inch of him, his skin on mine.

Dylan thrust into me slowly at first, but we quickly found a frantic rhythm, clinging to one another as we arched and moved and swayed together.

We lay together in the silent aftermath. Tangled emotions swept in to take the place of the overwhelming physical sensations, and I felt tears prick at the back of my eyes. I swallowed hard and then rolled over to face Dylan.

“I missed you so much, Dylan.” Emotion thickened my voice, and I buttoned my lips before any other words could rush out.

Dylan didn’t say anything in response but kissed me softer than before, letting his lips linger against mine just long enough to tell me he understood the words I’d left unspoken.

***

A few hours later, Dylan roused from sleep and got dressed. I wanted to object, to tell him to stay with me, but we both knew it was for the best that he left. We didn’t say much to one another as he got ready to leave. A quick goodnight kiss and he slipped out into the night. As soon as the door was locked behind him, I went to the window and watched as he crossed to the building next door and climbed the steps to his family’s apartment. When he faded from sight, I moved away from the curtains and went to take a shower. It wasn’t likely that I’d be able to convince Kate that nothing happened between Dylan and me, but showing up smelling like sex and his aftershave wasn’t going to do me any favors.

Although, in some ways, I doubted she’d even care. Her opinion of Tommy had never been very high. She was young when Tommy and I got married, but through her teen years, she made her thoughts known. She said I deserved better. I couldn’t even count how many times I’d shown up at my mother’s front door in tears, asking for a place to sleep when Tommy got pissed off or too drunk to be around. He’d never been violent with me. At least, not physically. He’d preferred to shout, throw things, and scream obscenities at me. When it was just the two of us, I’d take it, try to calm him down with tenderness and understanding. But when little Tommy got old enough to realize what was being said, I refused to stay. When Tommy showed up drunk and ranting, I’d take little Tommy to my mom’s and take refuge there for the night.

Still, Tommy had just been brutally murdered in cold blood. He might not have been in the running for husband of the year, but surely that didn’t excuse my eagerness to jump into bed with my ex-lover days later. Which was confusing, as being with Dylan felt so right and natural.

After the shower, I pulled on a fresh change of clothes and stashed the clothes I’d worn to the wake in the hamper. I pulled my slick hair back into a ponytail. As my hands moved through my wet hair, I caught sight of my wedding ring in the mirror. I stopped, my hands frozen in place. Was it right to take it off? So soon? What would people think? What would they say?

More importantly—or sadly—did I care?

I inspected the ring under the soft bathroom lighting. The tiny diamond was all Tommy could afford. The ring had always brought up mixed feelings. I’d known Tommy just as long as I’d known Dylan and Jimmy. We all grew up together and were inseparable at school and during summer breaks. Somewhere along the line, during high school, Tommy and Dylan both developed a crush on me. However, from the time I was twelve, I’d only been infatuated with Dylan. When I found out—through Jimmy—that Dylan liked me too, I was the happiest girl in the world. We started dating when we were sixteen, and everyone thought we’d graduate, get married, and start a family. It wasn’t that unusual in our circles to marry young and start having children by twenty-two or three. A lot of families worked that way. Dylan was poised to take over managing his father’s real estate and his business as a supplier to the building trades. Before long we’d have enough money to buy a little house. When the babies came, I’d stay home with them. Maybe getting a part-time job when they were old enough to go off to school. It was all set. My whole life mapped out by eighteen.

Then, one month before graduation, Dylan came to me and told me he was changing the plans. He’d been speaking to a Navy recruiter in secret for a few weeks and had decided to enlist. He was going to turn nineteen soon. The news devastated me. All of my plans and dreams were twisted up and thrown into the fire right before my eyes. I’d never bothered to make a backup plan or other arrangements. My despair and confusion quickly turned to anger. In my eyes, Dylan had betrayed me. He’d been sneaking around behind everyone’s back, speaking with the recruiter and making plans for a future that made sense to him without consideration for his family—or me. We argued and went round and round. No matter how many tears I cried or how much I yelled, he refused to change his mind. So, I’d be a military wife for a few years, I argued, but he wouldn’t hear of that, either. He refused to consider marriage. I was confused, as well as angry.

We broke up weeks before he shipped out to boot camp. He’d been gone for six months when I heard he had his heart set on joining the SEALs. Where the fuck did that come from? Then I understood. That was a life that cut out everything but his service. No wife. No kids. No house with a picket fence. Just excitement and danger. This was all about him.

I finally gave up the hope that he’d come home, tell me he’d changed his mind, or that he’d made other arrangements for us. Tommy was the one there to pick up the pieces. We started spending more time together, and he was so sweet and kind. He treated me to movies, dinners, and brought me flowers. Looking back, I wasn’t sure when I decided to try it with him. If anything, I was just lonely. We started fooling around, and it wasn’t long before I found out that I was pregnant. We panicked and ran off together. We tried to convince everyone we were in love and couldn’t wait another minute to get married, but it was pretty transparent what had happened when a month later I started to show and we had to announce that I was pregnant. I was all of nineteen going on stupid.

I’ll never forget the moment I sat down to write the letter to Dylan, telling him the news of the marriage and baby on the way. My hands shook so bad I had to start over at least half a dozen times. When I finally got it right, I stuffed the letter in an envelope and shoved it into the mailbox before I could change my mind. I cried all the way home.

My gaze drifted from the ring to the bedroom window where I’d watched him go. When I looked back at the ring, I slipped it from my finger and then dropped it into the basket between the sink and the wall and quickly turned out the bathroom light.