“Just for me? Then no. I’d wake up with you, and we’d never get out of bed.”
I laughed, my heart fluttering madly. “That sounds nice.”
“And you? Perfect day?”
“Oh, I like the one you described, where we never have to get out of bed. Although we’d get hungry.”
“Well, I’d eat Jillian pie all day.”
I shook my head. “You’re a fiend. But I like it.”
“Good.”
“OK, last question. If you had a million dollars, what would you do with it?”
“A million dollars,” he mused, staring into his cup. “Honestly, I don’t know. The things I want most don’t cost money.”
I tilted my head to one side. “What do you want?”
He didn’t answer right away, and all other sounds in the restaurant seemed to fade away as he thought. “Mostly I’d like to stop feeling guilty.”
“Why do you feel guilty?”
“Different reasons. But I guess what I think of most often are the promises I made to Scotty the day Tara left.”
My throat got tight, and I swallowed hard. “Can you tell me about it?”
He played with the handle of his coffee cup as he spoke. “While she moved out, I took Scotty to the park and held him while I rocked back and forth on a swing, which always calmed him. I told him it was only going to be him and me from now on, and even though it would be hard sometimes, we’d be OK. I promised to take care of him, to be the best dad I could be, to give him everything I could. And I promised myself that somehow I would make up for the fact that I’d…” His voice trailed off and he took another drink of his coffee.
“You’d what?”
He set the cup down again, still staring into it. “That I’d brought a child into a fucked up relationship, that I hadn’t been enough to make his mother want to stay, that I was all he had.”
I took a deep breath, not at all sure I wouldn’t start to weep for him there at the table.
“And I try every fucking day to live up to that. To do right by him. By everyone I care about. But I feel like it’s not enough.” He took a breath and exhaled, finally meeting my eyes. “I wish I were more than I am.”
“Levi.” I reached across the table and took his hand. “You’re enough.”
He smiled, although I could tell he didn’t believe me, and glanced down at our hands. “I’m not, but you make me feel that way.”
God, I wanted to crawl over the table and get in his lap. “I know what that’s like, to feel like you’re not enough,” I said softly, still fighting tears. “But you are. I promise you. With me you are.”
He nodded, his eyes meeting mine again. “With you I am.”
The mood had shifted, the playful tone of our conversation replaced by a quiet intensity. He squeezed my hand, and I wondered if he wanted me as badly as I wanted him—needed him. And my need was different now. It wasn’t only physical—I realized at that moment how he made me feel like I was enough, like I was worthy of him, worthy of love. The way he wanted me, the way he shared himself with me, the way he was willing to change things in his life to be with me…he was spending a night apart from his son for the first time in years for me. How could I show him what that meant? How could I make him see what I saw—this gorgeous, giving man who worried so much about doing right by the people he loved? I needed him to know he was more than enough.
I needed to show him love, and make him feel like he deserved it—because he did.
“Let’s go,” I whispered.
His dark eyes had fire in them. “I was just thinking the same.”
I have long legs, but I could barely keep up with Levi as he pulled me through the restaurant, out the door, and down the street. He drove home with one hand on the wheel, the other on my inner thigh, and I stroked him through his jeans, hardly able to sit still, every cell in my body radiating with desire.
The ride seemed to take forever, every stop sign a purgatory, every red light a hell. Finally we reached my building, and both of us unbuckled our seatbelt, jumped out of the car, and raced up the walk in five seconds flat. As I unlocked my front door, Levi stood behind me and slipped his arms around my waist, one hand sliding up to cover a breast, the other snaking down beneath the hem of my skirt. His mouth was hot on my neck as he pulled me back against him, his cock hard against my tailbone.
“Oh God,” I panted as his fingers edged my panties aside and dipped inside me. “I can’t concentrate. I can’t get the door open.”
“Do it,” he ordered, “or I’m going to fuck you right here against your front door and I won’t care who sees.”
Finally, I got the right key and managed to turn it. As soon as we were inside the hallway, Levi pushed me back against the door, dragging my skirt up to my waist. My purse and keys hit the floor, and so did his jacket. He crushed his mouth to mine as his hand slid inside my black lace panties and my fingers frantically tore at the buttons on his shirt.
“I fucking love how wet you are,” he said, plunging one finger inside me, then two. He pushed them in deep. “I want my cock right there. I want to bury myself inside you so deep it hurts, just the way you like it.”
“I want it,” I hissed, pulling his shirt from his pants and unbuckling his belt. “Now.” But before I could unzip his pants and get my hands on him, he dropped to his knees in front of me and fastened his mouth on my pussy through the lace, and I grabbed two fistfuls of his hair.