“I dated a little bit after Nathan and I divorced, but the kids were so young. And then Mama got sick. Then she died.” Monique shrugged. “Then I had to do it all on my own. There wasn’t any time for anything. And there was nobody I wanted enough to bring them around my children.”
She scanned his face, hoping he understood what she was saying. Did she even understand what she was saying, what she was offering?Wasshe offering?
He looked away, hanging his head. “I get that. Kids should be the priority.”
She nodded, understanding rushing in. Not being his mother’s priority had put Maurice in an impossible situation that sent him to prison for twenty years.
“Yes,” she said, reaching for his hands. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know where to start.”
“Pick something. I won’t judge.”
He looked at her like he wanted to believe her, but not quite.
“I have a confession,” Monique said.
Disbelief took over his face.
“My girls wanted me to come out here and have an affair with a sexy stranger. We’re in a cancer support group. All of us, with different types and stages, just trying to make it. They’re good ladies. I love them a lot, but you saw the other day, they can get out of pocket.” She smiled and rolled her eyes.
“How would an affair help you?”
“They probably figured a few orgasms would change my outlook on life.”
Pink streaked his skin before overtaking all the warm brown. “Monique—”
She wanted to laugh, but she didn’t. Something shifted in her chest. This man. This beautiful, controlled man who’d spent his entire life learning how to survive but never learning that he was allowed to want anything.
His eyes went dark. He twisted his hands in his lap.
“What do you want to do?”
He looked up at her with pupils blown, and said, “I don’t know.”
CHAPTER 16Maurice
He did know, and that was the problem.
He wanted to close the distance between them. He wanted to kiss her like they’d kissed in the sea, but more. He wanted to see the blue bra that teased him under her loosely tied robe, to touch it. He wanted to touch her, everywhere. He wanted to reclaim the peace he’d already experienced in her arms. But wanting wasn’t safe.
“Mo?” Her soft voice drew him from his head. “Where’d you go?”
“I’m here.”
“You’re not.” She scooted closer to where he sat in the chair, their knees touching. “Stop assessing scenarios and ways to screw up.”
He smiled, almost. “How can you tell? We barely know each other.”
“I like you, Maurice. I think you’re interesting, and I pay attention to what interests me.” She squeezed his hand. “You don’t have to be so controlled, not with me.”
“I don’t know how to be any other way.”
She stood, stepping between his knees.
His hands went to her hips without a command from his brain. Her robe was soft and warm under his palms. This was real.
“I have another confession,” she said, looking down at him.