Second Hand: A Tucker Springs Novel 2

his palm and hefted it, as if testing its weight. He looked up at me. His eyes were guarded. “You still love her?”
“I don’t know. I thought I did, but . . .” I was trying to kick my shoes off, which was significantly more difficult than normal. I let my words die away as I concentrated on first one, then the other.
“But what?” he prompted.
“Maybe it’s been a long time since I loved her.” I had to hold onto the footboard while I pulled off my socks. “I loved the life we were supposed to live.”
“What’s that mean?”
I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t tell him of the plans Stacey and I had made, me with a veterinary practice, her selling her art. Buying a house. Having kids. Seeing my mother’s joy when she became a grandmother. Tennis with friends in the morning and cocktails in the afternoon. Mr. and Mrs. Hannon. A cookie-cutter life. That’s what Stacey had always wanted.
“Paul?”
It was too much. The hollowness threatened to swallow me, and I blinked hard. “Forget I said it.”
He didn’t answer, and I didn’t dare look at him. I wouldn’t have been able to read his expression anyway. I pulled my shirt off and dropped it on the floor, then my pants. I wanted to go to bed and have this day be over. I didn’t want to think about it anymore.
Stacey had always been the one who made the bed. It hadn’t been intact since she’d left. The covers were in a pile at the foot of the bed. Sorting them out now seemed like entirely too much work, so I lay down without them in my briefs and tried not to think about the ring in El’s hand, or what it had once represented.
“I take it you’re going to bed.”
“Yes.” Maybe when I woke up, I wouldn’t be such a failure.
He hesitated for a long time, then said, “Aren’t you afraid I’m going to hit on you?”
I closed my eyes and told myself the sting behind them was only a result of the alcohol. It had nothing to do with being rejected after making a fool of myself in public, in front of El. Of being rejected by El. By everyone in my goddamned life. “I can’t imagine you’re that desperate.”
He didn’t answer, but a second later, I felt the bed shift.
I opened my eyes to find him looming above me, straddling my legs, supporting himself above me on his left arm so he could look into my eyes. What I saw there made my breath catch in my throat.
“Is that what you think? That I’d have to be desperate to want you?”
His gaze was so intense, and I swore I could feel heat coming off his body. The chipmunk chattered desperately, but the alcohol made it seem very far away. A new voice, however, began to purr.
“I fail at everything,” I said, trying to put us back on more familiar ground.
He didn’t even blink. “No, you don’t.”
“I’m always second. I’m not the vet; I’m the vet’s secretary. I’m Stacey’s second choice. I’m even in second place in the damn Curb Appeal contest.”
He smiled. The gentle warmth in his eyes eased the ache in my chest, and if the chipmunk was still going, I couldn’t hear him anymore. “The only thing wrong with you is that you’re so sure there’s something wrong with you.”
I didn’t answer. I could only stare at him—his dark skin and his soft, full lips. I wondered if I dared touch him. Thinking about it made the pit of my belly ache in a gloriously sensual way. He still had his clothes on, and I suddenly wanted more than anything to change that. I thought about how it would feel to have the weight of his body on top of me, and the thought made me moan out loud.
He smiled. With his right hand, he touched my cheek. He brushed his thumb over my lips, and it woke something inside of me. Something that had been dormant for too long. It ignited the blood in my veins. It made me ache.
He touched my lips again with the ball of his thumb, and I whimpered.
“You’re pure, and sweet, and generous to a fault.”
I might have argued if I hadn’t been so focused on his caress and on the look in his eyes. He trailed his fingertips down my neck, over my collarbone, making my heart race. Slowly—so slowly—he moved his caress down the center of my chest.
“That day we had ice cream, you put that spoonful in my mouth, and all I could think was, ‘If I kissed him now, this is how he would taste.’” He kissed my jaw. “I was so close to kissing you then, but you wouldn’t have let me.” He kissed my neck. “You have no idea how much I want you.”
I didn’t understand how it