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  My arms involuntarily squeeze around his waist in answer. "I'd love to."

  "Good," he says. "I want you to get to know Sam."

  Pulling back, I look at Tim in curiosity. "You do?"

  "Of course I do," he says like I just asked the most stupid thing in the world. "Holly... I'm not sure what you think is going on between us, but this isn't just a vacation fuck. I might be going back to New York, but this isn't finished between us. You know that, right?"

  Warmth, tenderness, and relief courses through me. I smile at him brightly and place my palm on his chest. "It's definitely not finished between us."

  Chapter 7

  Tim

  We settled on taking Sam to Carousel Gardens Amusement Park, figuring it would be the best way to keep a five-year-old entertained. He started petering out right after lunch, but he caught his second wind early afternoon.

  The day could not have gone any better. I had a quick talk with Sam last night about Holly, merely telling him that she was an old and dear friend of mine, and that she wanted to spend the day with us. He reacted as any child probably would... with complete indifference. Instead, he was more excited about the amusement park and wanted assurances that he would be able to go on the rides even with his hand in a splint.

  What was interesting, though, was how quickly Sam warmed up to Holly once we got to the park. His indifference turned to genuine interest, and that was only to be expected because Holly showed immense interest toward him and his world. I guess because her specialty is in pediatric orthopedics that she has a natural talent connecting to kids, but even I was pretty awe-inspired as I watched her aptly able to handle long bouts of five-year-old dialogue.

  "So what position do you play in baseball?" Holly asked Sam as we walked through the park.

  And, as only a five-year-old can do when he wants to talk about something that is important to him, he really talks about what is important to him. "I play second base. And I'm really good. I'm 'posed to be in the Tee Ball league, but I'm good enough to be in Coach Pitch, and I did a camp this summer and I tried outfield but didn't like it, plus I'm gooder at second base."

  "Better," I interjected quickly.

  "Better," Sam agreed. He then continued to tell Holly about every other kid on his team and what he felt their future would be like in baseball.

  By midmorning, Sam wanted Holly to go on the rides with him and I was relegated to holding onto the stuffed animals we had won while they got to have all the fun. And I grinned the entire time, grateful that Sam at least liked Holly and vice versa.

  This was important to me because as I told her the other night, this is in no way finished between us. I have no fucking clue what the future holds for us, but I know it holds something. I know this because within just a few days, many of my old feelings for Holly have returned. Not only is there the extreme physical attraction, but it's like ten years have melted away and I am remembering all the things about her that caused my eighteen-year-old self to fall in love with the blonde-haired, green-eyed girl who wanted to be a doctor and save the world.

  Her humor, her grace, her compassion.

  The way she rolls her eyes at me when I'm goofing around.

  Her little habit of nibbling on her lip when she's thinking about the best way to say something.

  The way she makes eye contact with everyone she walks by, giving a smile or a nod of her head in greeting.

  Or how she hums along to the music in the car but refuses to actually sing out loud.

  All of those things I had forgotten, and yet, they are still so innately Holly and I realized I've actually missed those little quirks.

  Then there are the things I'm learning about her anew. The ways in which she's changed as a woman. She has a naughty streak, which so wasn't her in high school. We were only sexually active for a few months before her father broke us apart, but she was tentative and always looked to my lead. The other night, she practically molested me in that little office, a new trait I'm finding I like very much.

  Of course, I can't overlook the fact that she began to really change probably the day after we broke up. That was the beginning of the end for her and her father, and she made tremendous sacrifices and weighty decisions to make sure that her life would not be controlled by a bigoted man. This is a character trait I would move heaven and earth to teach my own son, so he never has to suffer under that type of fear or pressure. I can tell Holly is the type of woman that will move heaven and earth to teach her own kids that one day.

  "Dad... can I get my picture done?" Sam asks as we stroll through the amusement park. We've already been on all the rides that Sam felt brave enough to attempt, as well as played every game imaginable.

  I look over to a street artist drawing caricatures. I've always felt those were stupid and a waste of time, yet today, I have no timetable where Sam and Holly are concerned.

  "Sure," I say, reaching into my pocket to pull out my wallet. After I pay the artist and Sam gets situated in the chair, I step over to Holly and wrap my arm around her shoulder, pulling her in close. Leaning over, I kiss her on the top of the head, which is the first outward display of affection I've shown her all day. I had been hesitant, because of Sam, but he's not paying any attention to us yet.

  But he will, eventually, so I keep my arm around her and figure he needs to see it at some point.

  "Have a good time today?" I ask her as we watch the artist start to draw.

  "The best," she murmurs as she slips an arm around my waist. "How 'bout you?"

  "The best," I agree with her, and then add on, "Sam really likes you."

  "You have an amazing son, Mr. Davis," she says smartly. "He is completely you, one-hundred percent."

  "He got a little bit of his mom," I say with a grin. "Luckily, he didn't get the part that harped on me all the time for not picking up my dirty socks from the bedroom floor."

  Holly bumps her hip against me in admonishment. "I'd harp on you for that too."

  "I knew it... you're a shrew," I tease her, and yup... there it is... an eye roll.

  We watch Sam for a moment, his eyes finally darting over to us as we stand there with our arms around each other. He doesn't even lift an eyebrow, just flashes his big, gapped grin and turns back to the artist.

  "So, you want kids?" I ask her.

  "Yeah," she says with a dreamy hint in her voice. "Someday. Maybe two... three? I don't know, but definitely."

  "You'd make a wonderful mother," I murmur as I lean over and touch my cheek to her temple.

  "It's funny, because growing up, whenever my father did something that I just adored, I would say to myself, 'I'm going to be exactly like him when I grow up'. I'm so different now than I was then. I've learned so much... seen all kinds of ugly. I hope I've managed to weed out all the bad I've seen my father do and come away with only the good."

  "That is definitely not something you need to worry about," I tell her as I keep my eyes trained on Sam. "There is nothing but good inside of you."

  "Yeah, well, you haven't seen me up close and personal when I have PMS. You won't be singing my praises then," she teases.

  "I think I could handle that. It's only once a month."

  Holly gives a throaty laugh and pulls away. When my arm falls away from her shoulder, she immediately takes my hand and laces her fingers with mine. Turning to face me, her back to Sam, she looks up at me and the sun causes her green eyes to lighten to the color of limes. She's absolutely breathtaking... literally steals my breath away.

  "I checked up on you while you were in college," Holly says out of the blue.

  My eyebrows rise, not only because I'm surprised by this, but also because this is so far off track from our talk of her PMS. "Oh, yeah?"

  She nods... almost shyly, lowering her gaze to the ground. "After I decided to leave Columbia toward the end of my freshman year. When I started getting scholarship offers to other schools. I knew I was going to leave my father and his controlling ways behind."

/>   Her words trail off... she's lost in a memory. I take my hand and tuck it under her chin, raising her gaze to me. I look at her questioningly so she'll continue.

  "Remember Bennie... who was dating Sarah Carnes our senior year?"

  I nod, vaguely remembering Bennie but having no clue who Sarah Carnes was.

  "Well, Bennie went to Columbia and we had a few classes together. Sarah went to Syracuse and was in a sorority there."

  "I remember Bennie... not Sarah though."

  "Well, Sarah was sorority sisters with a girl you were dating your freshman year," she says.

  "Beth Gamble," I say, remembering the petite little cheerleader I was seeing on and off while at Syracuse.

  "Yeah... well, Bennie knew we had dated in high school, and he mentioned Sarah had seen you at a few parties. So, he always sort of kept me up to date on how you were doing. As much as Sarah knew from observing you at parties."

  "It's why you didn't try to contact me, isn't it?" I ask with a dark feeling seeping through me.

  She nods and gives a sad smile. "I wanted to contact you. Tell you everything that happened, and that I was going to be free from my father. I don't know... I wanted another chance with you, but you had moved on. I guess I was just afraid of you rejecting me. So I did nothing."

  I felt anger toward her father for making this mess to begin with. Pure, blistering hot anger for fucking us and everything we had up.

  I pull Holly into my arms and hug her hard. Then I dip down and kiss her... softly and sweetly, because there is a five-year-old sitting ten feet away who may be watching.

  Sweeping my lips across her cheek, I murmur in her ear, "So much time wasted, baby."

  Holly pulls back and looks at me. "I don't see it that way."

  "Oh, yeah? How do you see it?"

  "I see it as an opportunity for both of us to grow on our own. And most importantly, you had Sam. That wouldn't have happened if we had stayed together."

  Brave, pragmatic, practical Holly. So fucking sweet and thoughtful.

  This time, I pull her in and kiss her a little harder. And yeah, I slip my tongue in between those sweet lips briefly and really pour my emotion into her.

  "Ewww," I hear Sam whine from behind us. "Dad... that's gross."

  Holly and I break slowly apart, both gazing at each other with smiles before we turn to face Sam. "Trust me, buddy. One day, this won't seem gross to you."

  Apparently, Sam had been watching Holly with keen interest all day, because right there and then, he gives me an eye roll that has me laughing at the little monster.

  Chapter 8

  Holly

  "I can't, Tim," I gasp.

  "You can," he urges me with a growl. "All the way down, baby."

  "You're too big... it's too much," I whine, but damn... it feels really, really good.

  "Just a little more," he pants, bringing his hands to my hips and pushing me down on him some more.

  He's lodged inside me deep... I'm on top and trying to take the rest of him in. But geez... he's so freakin' big that I don't know if I can do it.

  But this is our last night together. He leaves tomorrow afternoon and I'll be working, so this is where I say goodbye to the man that I've started spiraling for again. In just a few short days, he's become an important part of my world once more. Our time together has been limited, between my shifts at the hospital and his need to spend time with Sam and Denise, but we are making the very most of it. He's stayed the night with me a few times, and I spent another day touring New Orleans with him, Sam, and Denise. He came to see me once more at the hospital, and while we didn't have sex, we did have an amazing cup of coffee together where he told me all about his life inside the fire department, which included many funny stories about his best friend, Flynn Caldwell.

  I want to make the most of tonight. I want to connect to him deeper than I ever have before. I feel an almost desperate need to make him understand... through my words or body language... just how much he means to me. So I'm going to take him in all the way and forge him deeper into my body and soul.

  Panting, I push down another fraction of an inch, and Tim shudders underneath me. He slides a hand down between my legs, presses his thumb against my clit, and I jerk hard against the contact at the same time Tim thrusts up into me hard.

  And, oh yeah... oh, my holy God... he's all the way in and it's the absolute best feeling in the world.

  I sit atop him... holding still, relishing the fullness within me. Tim stares up at me, his dark eyes sparkling with lust. Tentatively, I give a little rotating move of my hips that causes him to massage against something deep inside of me.

  "You're killing me, Holly," Tim groans, trying to literally pick my body up to slide it off his cock.

  I bat his hands away and admonish him. "Hands off. I got this."

  "Well, get it faster," he complains.

  I snicker and bend forward to kiss him briefly. "Patience, my love. All good things to those who wait."

  Tim's hands shoot up and grasp my face, pulling me back for a deeper kiss. His tongue possesses mine, and my hips start rocking against him. When he releases me, his voice is deep with longing. "You called me 'your love'."

  I push up on his chest so I'm sitting ramrod straight, circling my hips. It's creating a little friction... just enough to drive him crazy. "I did call you that."

  "Am I?" he asks, his face seriously intent. "Your love?"

  I stop moving on him, placing my hands over his heart. "A lot of time has passed, Tim. But my feelings for you never changed. They may have been tucked away deep in my heart, but they never went away."

  Tim just nods... seemingly at a loss for words, so I take that as my cue to get busy. I start to raise and lower myself onto him, slowly at first, but as I adjust to his length and girth, a little bit faster. Then even faster, and faster yet. Within moments, Tim's hands are back on my hips, helping me to practically bounce up and down on him.

  "Fucking gorgeous, Holly," he mutters, his eyes roaming over my breasts as they bounce along in rhythm.

  My muscles clench, tighten, and tingle. My orgasm builds swiftly, and I decide not to hold it back. Reaching behind me, I cup his balls in my hand while I maintain my rhythm, giving them a gentle squeeze. Tim bucks up hard against me, almost throwing me off, and yells, "Fuck yeah".

  His hands are at my hips once more, grinding me down hard against him, and his back arches as he starts to come inside of me. That's my undoing... watching the sheer pleasure wash over his face, and I fall right along with him into bliss.

  Many moments later, as I lay on top of him, my face sweaty and my heartbeat finally returning to normal, Tim's hands stroking my lower back, I hear him softly say, "You're my love too."

  Where I find the strength after that bout of sex, I have no clue, but I rise back up, leveraging myself on his chest with my forearms.

  When my eyes lock onto his, he gives me a bit of a sad smile. "I'd like to say that I kept all my same feelings for you over the years, but you're smart enough to know that I was hurt by what you did. I had anger and resentment mixing with my memories of you, but I did hold something back. I held back the purity of what we had before it was ruined."

  My heart seizes and clenches over his words, because I know it's dredging up old hurts and peeling away scabbed-over wounds.

  Tim brings a hand up, cups my cheek, and pushes his fingers back through my hair until he's holding me by the back of my head. His fingers spread wide and he grips onto me, giving me a little shake to ensure my attention. "I held something back all these years, Holly. Despite everything, when I saw you in that emergency room, I still felt deep care for you. When you told me what really happened... with your father... that just stripped all the bitterness away, and I was truly able to see that I had held back more than I had thought. I know it may sound trite, and maybe we're both still immature fools, but I do know one thing... you are my love too."

  I can't help it... tears immediately start pooling
in my eyes. I think that may have been the singularly most beautiful thing I've ever heard in my life. "We've been given a second chance," I say hoarsely, my voice practically lost to emotion.

  "We have," he says simply. "I don't want to waste it."

  "I don't either," I tell him.

  "I can't do long distance, Holly," he says matter of factly. "Not where you're concerned. And I can't leave New York because of Sam."

  I push up off his chest, rearranging my body so I'm straddling his lower abdomen. Smiling down at him, I say, "Well... it just so happens that I've been a little homesick for New York. I could move back."

  "You'd do that?" Tim asks with wonder, but then his gaze immediately turns somber. "But what about your parents?"

  I wave my hand in dismissal. "New York's a pretty damn big place. I think there's room enough for all of us."

  "What about your career here?" he asks, concern etched on his face.

  Shrugging my shoulders, I tell him the truth of my life. "New Orleans was an escape for me. A way to go to college without the control of my father. A way to start over... become the person I was meant to be. I stayed here because I got a good job. I love it. Always will. But it's not my home."

  "Because New York is," he supplies helpfully.

  I shake my head and give him a tiny smile. "I'm thinking my home is wherever you are, and since you're in New York, then yeah... that's where it is."

  "We're really going to do this?" His palms smooth over my thighs in a reassuring manner.

  "I'm not letting you go again," I tell him softly. "It's time to take our lives back."

  Tim slips a hand behind my neck, pulls me down, and kisses my forehead gently. I collapse back onto his chest, feeling his heart thump against mine, and close my eyes.

  In this moment... right now... I've never been happier in my entire life.

  Chapter 9

  Tim

  I sit at Denise's kitchen table as the midmorning sun shines through the window over the sink, leaving a streak of light right across my plate of half-eaten eggs and bacon. I take a sip of coffee and watch as Sam awkwardly scoops eggs up with the fork in his left hand.

  "You're getting better at using your left hand," I tell him. He looks up at me with a grin, and I wink back.