When I finally set our plates down at the kitchen island where Pace is sitting, I'm expecting him to make some comment about how the sandwiches are now cold, but instead he turns to me and smiles.
"You're a really good mom."
No one's ever said that to me before and the emotional impact of his words stop me dead in my tracks. It's as though all of my edge that I've fought to keep – my strength, determination and the lady balls I've had to grow since becoming a single mom – all of it is wiped out in an instant. "T-thank you," I murmur.
Pace takes a bite of the sandwich, his eyes not straying from Max. "What's that sign mean?" he asks.
I look over at Max and see his little fingers opening and closing. "Milk," I say.
"I've got it." Pace stands, and grabs the empty cup from his tray.
My feelings toward him soften, as I watch him pour milk into the sippy cup, fasten the lid tightly and place it back in Max's chubby grasp.
I don't need any help, but damn his presence here feels good. So good. I'm tired of being strong all the time. Here is a man, a gorgeous fucking man, who is willing to help. Why not let him? The lump in my throat makes it difficult to swallow.
Pace
I'm amazed to be here, sharing this moment with Kylie and her son. It's something so normal – having lunch – yet it feels like so much more. Her eyes stay glued to me as I move around the kitchen, helping clean off Max's hands and dumping the remnants of his tray of food into the trash.
After lunch, Kylie lays Max down in his crib for a nap, and then rejoins me in the living room. She begins picking up toys and tossing them into a basket beside the couch. I get the sense she doesn't often have downtime – time just for herself – time to be a woman and not just a mom. It's strange how being near her makes me think of things I've never before considered.
"Come sit down for a bit¸" I encourage, patting the seat next to me.
She does, falling back into the plush sofa with a soft sigh. "I love him, but God, he's exhausting," she laughs.
"He's great," I say.
Her eyes slide over to mine and she studies me quietly, her face suddenly serious.
Today hasn't been about romance. We weren't trying to impress one another, well, maybe I was trying a little – showing up here with that pool, but I wonder if all of this – the slow start, the conversation, the getting to know someone, is the key to it all. Talking, building a friendship first, having it lead to something on a deeper level than I've ever operated at before. I've never approached a relationship with a woman like this before. And it feels so entirely different, I'm beside myself for what comes next.
It's been interesting seeing her in her space all day. Unlike my tidy and sparse condo, her house actually feels like a home. It feels lived in and alive. There are candid photographs on the walls and decorating the shelves and mantle. Selfies with her and Max, or just Max alone, because she's the one behind the camera. There are no happy family portraits, just a beautiful girl who doesn't understand her worth, and her baby son.
"So what's a swinging single man like you doing on a play date on a Saturday?" she asks.
"Swinging, huh?" I lift an eyebrow, watching her.
"Swinging."
"You have heard the stories, huh?"
"Sure have."
"I'm going to kill Colton," I say.
"I figured, but seriously, nothing better to do today than play with a one year old?"
"You know why I'm here, Kylie." At least she should.
"Enlighten me."
"The playdate with Max was a rouse. I'm actually kind of digging his mom."
She laughs, her eyes not straying from mine.
"That wasn't obvious? I figured I had no game and you were on to me."
"Is that what all this is to you? A game?" she asks, her voice suddenly going serious.
"Of course not." This is the most real experience I've had in a long time.
"You make me nervous, Pace. You make me want things I didn't think I could have."
"Same here," I answer.
"Explain."
"Being here today, this is all new for me. I'm just as much out of my element as you are."
"I doubt that," she challenges, her voice steady.
"Hanging out with a woman and her child? It's something I've never done, never wanted to do before … but you make me want to try something new. I'll be the first to admit, sex is all I know. It's been my way of life for the past … " I do a quick mental calculation … "Twelve years." From seducing my high school chemistry teacher to fucking the housekeeper, to sleeping my way through the LA singles scene for the fun of it. It was the only thing I was good at. I've always been the fun one – the guy you called for a good time. Yet now, in the face of this gorgeous woman, it all seemed fucking pointless. Had I even derived any pleasure from it? "Maybe I'm getting tired of the same-old, same-old," I tell her. I pause, watching her reaction. Kylie is closely watching me, breathing softly through parted lips, but she's quiet and still.
"I can't take a chance on maybes and somedays. I have too much at stake, too much to lose to gamble like that."
"If you were any other woman, I'd be balls deep inside of you by now. Trust me, I can be different, you make me feel different."
Her cheeks flush pink and her pulse thrums at the side of her neck.
"Does that make you nervous?"
She nods. "Y-yes."
"Why?" I don't know if we're talking about the sex, or the fact that I want to stick around.
"There's been no one since Elan," she says.
She's been with no one since … nine months of pregnancy and now Max is thirteen months old … Nearly two years. Damn. That's a long ass time to be celibate. Way too long.
"Don't you miss it?" I ask.
"It? Meaning cock?" Her mouth lifts in a sassy grin.
"Among other things. Intimacy is what I was referring to."
"And what does a man like you know of intimacy?"
She hasn't answered my question, yet hers is spot on, stripping me bare, making me look inside at the man I am and examining him in the harsh light. There is nothing intimate about a quick fuck in a bathroom stall at a nightclub with a girl whose name and face I won't remember in the morning. Even if I don't like examining my past in her presence, I love her ability to challenge me.
"I know that I haven't spent this much time talking, getting to know a woman in a long, long time," I say.
I lift her hand from where it rests on the couch between us. I know we both feel this pull – this tug of sexual awareness and energy and desire. It permeates the air around us, drawing me to her.
"Tell me what you need," I ask, lacing my fingers with her. The simple act of holding her hand makes my blood pump faster.
Her eyes land hesitantly on mine. They are full of questions. "I need you to be careful. With me and with Max," she whispers.
"Done."
Her eyes study mine, like she's looking for clues that she can trust me.
"I don't say things I don't mean, Kylie. I never have. I don't promise things I can't give."
She nods, imperceptibly. "I still don't understand … I've seen the women you're attracted to. You like them blonde, busty and compliant. Not short, sassy and with ten extra pounds of baby weight."
"You want to know what I see when I look at you?"
I release her hand to cup her cheek. She inhales sharply at the sudden contact. She continues watching me, waiting to see what I'll say next.
"I see strength, and softness combined in the most exquisite package. I see a mother who loves her child with every ounce of her being. But I don't see just a mother. I also see a woman, a stunningly beautiful woman with a lush body, and full, heavy breasts, and lips that I very much want to kiss."
I hold her eyes, letting my words sink in while my thumb makes slow circles against her cheek.
Her eyes flutter on mine and her breath becomes shallow. She's waiting for me to kiss her, but I won't rush this. I let the moment sink in – let her feel – truly feel every bit of the lust building between us, because by her own admission, this feeling is something she's denied herself for too long.
Unconsciously she leans closer and my hand slides from her cheek around to the back of her neck. I guide her mouth to mine and watch her eyes slip closed just before our mouths meet. Her lips are soft and full and easily mold to mine, letting me lead the kiss.