Before I could answer, he turned off the light, rolled us so I faced the opposite wall and pressed his long, hard body against mine.

“Night,” I whispered into the dark.

“Goodnight,” his deep voice was like silk wrapping around me as I drifted into sleep. There were still so many things we needed to talk about, but what we had right then was more than enough for me.

FOUR

“Do you want to spend the day with Rachel and me tomorrow?” I asked Matt, as we stood outside my apartment. The sun was just kissing the sky behind us, and as much as I didn’t want him to leave, I knew he had to.

“I’d love to.” He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to mine in a sweet and tender kiss that had my leg lifting like in a fairytale. I wanted to weep with joy at how young and lighthearted I felt again. “How’s noon tomorrow?”

“Sounds good.”

After another kiss that lasted a little longer and was a lot deeper, he strutted his tight ass across the catwalk, giving me a flick of his fingers and a sexy grin as he disappeared down the stairs.

Less than an hour later, I was making pancakes shaped like Mickey Mouse while Rachel bounced in her chair, coloring a picture.

I chewed on my lip, wondering how to broach the topic of Matt being around more. After we made love that morning, Matt had assured me again that he wasn’t going anywhere. He even went so far as to tell me that if I wanted to take things slow it wasn’t going to happen. We had already wasted too much time.

I smiled as I stuck a chocolate chip into the batter where Mickey’s nose should be. Even though it scared the bejeezus out of me, I was thrilled that he didn’t want to go slow. The only pickle in that plan was how my daughter would react to it. Her overall wellbeing and easy adjustment to this new scenario was my number one priority.

Setting the plate down in front of Rachel, I drizzled syrup on her pancakes and then sat down next to her to watch her eat.

“Those good, baby?” I asked her.

“Yep,” she chirped with a smile that showcased chocolate streaked teeth.

“Good.”

Silence descended as she continued eating and coloring with one hand. I opened my mouth several times to say something, but each time I chickened out and took a sip of my tea instead.

“Honey, Mommy needs to talk to you about something,” I finally worked up the courage to say.

“Okay,” she answered, but continued to color like I hadn’t just spoken.

“Can you put the crayon down and look at me?” She easily complied and when I had her attention, I stammered, “Do you like Mr. DiGristino?”

“Yep,” she chirped and started to divert her attention back to coloring. I rid her hand of the offending crayon and pulled her onto my lap so she had no choice but to pay attention.

“Mr. DiGristino used to be really good friends with Mommy,” I began only to be interrupted.

“Like Suzie?”

“Yes, baby. Just like Suzie down the hall is your friend, Mr. DiGristino, or Matt, used to be mommy’s friend.”

“Okay.” She blinked up at me, and I felt like a heel for not handling this better.

Get to the point, Miranda.

“Mommy and Matt are going to start spending more time together. Are you okay with him coming over and maybe going places with us sometimes?”

“Yes,” she immediately answered.

I slumped in my chair a little and smiled down at her. “Good, but if you ever feel unhappy about it, will you tell me?”

“Okay.” She started to squirm, and I knew I was losing her attention. With a kiss to her forehead, I released my hold on her. She bounced back into her chair and resumed eating and coloring.

I shook my head and brought my cup to the sink. Kids really were resilient. I only hoped my happiness wouldn’t impede on hers, but would make her life that much more rich and vibrant. Because that’s exactly what my world seemed like that morning—complete Technicolor as opposed to its usually lackluster dullness.

*****

“Higher!” Rachel squealed.

Matt chuckled and pushed her swing a little higher.

It was Sunday and we had just had a picnic in the park, courtesy of the wonderful man standing next to me. I was sure I didn’t deserve him, but I wasn’t letting him go either. Not after I knew how horrible it felt to do it the first time.

“She’s quite the spitfire,” he said as we watched Rachel run over to the jungle gym, disappearing into the maze.

I turned my body towards his and wrapped my arms around his waist, laying my head against his chest. “She is.”

“Just like her mother,” he continued.

“Maybe,” I eluded. I hoped Rachel was more than me. So much more. I wanted her to have the moon and the stars if that was what she wanted. It would be over my dead body that she would end up with limited options like me.

“I can’t stop thinking about being inside you again,” he whispered as his hand slipped down my back to squeeze my ass.

“Me either.” I shivered from his teasing touch and the lust building in my veins.

“How many men have you been with since…” his words trailed off, but I knew what he was hinting at. He had been the first boy to ever make love to me. We had both been virgins, spending our nearly three-year relationship learning the joys and pleasures of each other’s bodies. We had tried new positions and new techniques that we had seen on the Internet or watched in porn. It was perfection—until it wasn’t.

Disappointment had me frowning. If I hadn’t screwed up everything, I might still be able to say that he was my one and only.

“Turn that frown upside down,” he joked, his finger lifting the side of my mouth into a quasi-grin. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s fine. I was just thinking about how much I screwed up with you. You deserve to know everything about me. Never question that.” I took a deep breath and forged on. “I’ve been with four guys. You, Bo, and two other men who were random hookups after Bo left us.”

“Damn, that hurts worse than I expected it to. I knew with Rachel and all that I wasn’t still your only one, but it still sucks to hear.” He rubbed at his chest absently and I felt like a royal ass.

“What about you?” I asked, attempting to make it better.

“What about me?” He looked down at me with an arched brow that made him look wicked behind his dark glasses.

“How many women have you been with?” I clarified with an arch of my own brow. My attempt to appear lighthearted was successful, even though I was anything but. I really didn’t need to hear how many women had intimately known the man I loved. Especially since it was my own fault they could know him that way to begin with.

“You really want to know?” I nodded, so he answered. “Two.”

“Two?” I choked on my own spit at his admission. That was almost worse than him giving me the answer I had expected—dozens. This meant someone else potentially held his heart at some point. My stomach churned at the thought.

“Yeah,” he said sheepishly.

“Who was she?” I demanded to know.

“No one really. I dated her a bit on and off in college.” He shrugged like it was no big deal.

“Did you love her?”

“I didn’t realize I was signing up for an inquisition,” he semi-joked.

“I need to know Matt. Because my brain is going crazy right now making up scenarios about how you two were in love and planning weddings and babies and… and…” I struggled to finish. My anxiety was getting the better of me.

“Hey now,” he said soothingly in an attempt to relax me. “I’ve only ever loved you. Michelle was nice and we had fun, but I could never give her more. Part of me was always waiting to come back here. Home.”

“Home?” I asked. My heart soaring under the knowledge that no one else had him the way I did.