A Moment for Us by Corinne Michaels

Author:Corinne Michaels [Michaels, Corinne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BAAE Publishing
Published: 2021-10-04T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 23

Joshua

The last three weeks have been calm. Delia is working, I’m working on the house, and once a week, Mrs. Garner and Mrs. Villafane bring over some kind of baked good to thank me for keeping the neighborhood safe. Of course, I haven’t done a damn thing, but I won’t turn away their cake since it makes Delia smile.

Today, I’m hoping she’ll smile because I finally finished the floors.

I hear her car pull up, and I’m at the door before she gets there. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she says with a weary smile as her hands move to rub her belly. It hasn’t been until this last week that it seemed as if she were actually pregnant. I know she was before, but now she has the bump, and I swear, the woman is glowing. “What’s up?” Delia asks as she comes to a stop in front of me.

I shake my head before taking her hand. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Is it cake?”

“No.”

Delia’s lips turn down. “I like cake.”

“I think you’ll like this too.”

I walk her inside and to the living room. The furniture, which had been shifted to the dining room, is back to where she had it. Except now, the floors are shiny, all new, and perfect.

“Wow!” she says, looking around. “It’s gorgeous, Josh. Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.”

“No, really. Thank you. This is amazing, and you got it done—free, too.”

She’s smiling as if I just won the world for her. She looks so happy, and it’s what I wish I did for her daily.

“Next, I think we work on the nursery.”

Delia turns quickly, losing her balance, and I catch her. Her hands are against my chest, and I can’t fucking breathe. For weeks, I’ve fought against the urge to hold her, touch her, kiss her all-too-perfect lips.

I almost lost that battle when we went shopping, and had we not been interrupted, I might have. When that woman said Delia was my wife, it was as though I got woken up from the dream.

Since then, I’ve been keeping my distance. I make sure that I don’t touch her or hold her hand like I did that day. None of that because we’re just friends who are going to co-parent.

But now, my hand is splayed against her spine, and she shivers in my arms while I wait for her to push me away. Instead, her pupils dilate, and when her tongue slides along her lips, I know.

She wants this.

I want this.

But . . .

Before I can think too much, she comes closer and she kisses me.

My hand moves up her back, holding her to me, losing myself in her. She tilts her head to the left, and I slide my tongue against hers. I drink in the slow moan that comes from her throat, and savor the taste of mint.

Delia and I clutch each other, holding on as the last few months of restraint crumble around us.

Holding on to her hip, my grip tightens, afraid she’ll pull away. I want this. I want her.

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