Page 73 of Parentmoon

“Guess you might be right. But I’m serious. I planned to celebrate the night with you.”

Another plan?

A sharp laugh from Keli draws our attention toward Michael and her.

“He really loves her.” Dallas’s Southern drawl brushes over me like a soft caress along the side of my neck.

“And she loves him,” I whisper, breathless and dreamy. “It’s all a mother can ask for. Someone to love my son like I love him.”

“Think you could love like that again?” Dallas asks, while I continue to stare at our so-in-love children.

“Not certain I ever have.” The confession slips out, but the truth is the truth. I don’t remember being in love the same way Michael and Keli are. The giddy sensation. The constant need to touch. The desire to share all your secrets.

I hadn’t felt anything like that . . . until recently.

Turning back to Dallas, our eyes lock. “I’m afraid to imagine it. Because I never want to be disappointed again.”

And presently, I’m disappointed in him.

“Darlin.” Dallas tugs me by my pinky and stands taller, towering over me. He leans toward me. Our mouths almost connect before I remember where we are and who is watching us.

Abruptly, I pull back, catching a glimpse of dissatisfaction in his eyes.

What could he possibly be upset about? His daughter is getting married. He has the first of those grandbabies he wants coming in months. Keli is moving home to a house he gifted her. He has everything he could want.

Laria calls out my name, breaking the spell between Dallas and me, and I’m grateful for the distraction. Michael has always been my priority, and I’m putting him and Keli before Dallas. I’ll dissect my emotions for him later. When I’m safely home and separated from him. Where my heart can rip in two, like I told him earlier, without him witnessing the fallout.

With Laria energetically waving me over, I slip away from Dallas without a second glance.

+ + +

Thankfully, Laria and Philip don’t join us for lunch. They decide to go into town. I’m small-talked out with them and wedding discussions. Watching the struggling couple compared to the newly re-engaged reminds me of who I’d been and where I am now. An independent, single lady despite being a bit lonely.

I just want time with my family, and it hits me that Dallas will be part of that small circle. He’ll be Michael’s father-in-law, which makes him no relation to me, but still, we’ll share a bond through the marriage of our children and future grandchildren.

And we’ll simply ignore the fact we had sex, recklessly and repeatedly on this island.

After lunch, I excuse myself for the restroom. The single room is located in the bar area which isn’t open for business yet.

When I open the door once I’m finished, Dallas is leaning against the wall right outside it. With a hand to my lower belly, he presses me back into the room and closes the door behind him. While the space is plenty large enough for one, with Dallas present, he seems to swallow up the area, and the air I need to breathe.

“Giving you a pass on attitude today. Don’t push me away again, though.” His mouth descends on mine before I can respond. He wasn’t frightening or threatening but stating a distinct warning. He didn’t like that we didn’t kiss earlier. He didn’t like the tension firmly between us now.

“Dallas,” I groan, but he doesn’t release my lips. With him kissing me, my thoughts scatter. My emotions settle. This is what I need.

He moves to my chin, scraping his teeth over the edge, marking me. He licks along my jaw and nips me where my neck meets my shoulder. My legs give out. I’m melting into the bliss that is all Dallas.

“I’m stinky.” Laughter catches in my throat. We’ve spent all morning in the sunshine.

“Salty sweet,” he hums, tugging down the top of my bathing suit and palming my breast. He lowers his lips to the crest, taking the tip into his mouth, sucking hard before he softly bites my nipple.

I catch myself on the sink counter at my back. Why do I so easily give into this man?

Dallas straightens and turns me to face the mirror above the sink. With my top tugged down, exposing one breast, he covers it again with his large hand while gripping me between my legs. He pushes aside my bathing suit bottoms and dips two fingers inside me.

Gasping, I clutch the counter. His name is a hiss, dying out on the second syllable as my legs spread wider and he goes deeper. His touch is mind numbing, soul lifting. My heart rate soars.

“What are you doing?” I ask, a little too late, a little too breathless.