I held on loosely, unable to latch on, my body like a rag doll. Luckily, Merry had shifted an arm around my back to keep me steady as I fought to even my breathing.

Merry didn’t help with that as he gently slid his hand from my jeans, shifted slightly, just enough to get his hand between us, and I watched up close, my head still in his neck, his chin dipping down, as he slid his middle finger, wet with me, between his lips.

I spasmed in his arms.

He felt my reaction, and I knew this when he drew my finger out and his lips curved up in a sexy, cocky grin. He retraced his path between us with his hand, then obliterated any space by wrapping his arm around me, drawing me tight to him with both arms and turning his head.

I lifted mine marginally, catching his eyes, which didn’t have even a hint of ice, before my eyes closed when his mouth took mine and he kissed me.

There was a vague taste of me on his lips, but the rest of it was Merry and I knew instantly, with a heady feeling, he would not give even a little control of that kiss to me.

It was wet, long, thorough, soft, and sweet.

He gave what he just gave, so that was all for Merry.

And it was a beginning that even me, who’d managed to read a lot of important things wrong in my life, couldn’t miss.

When he released my lips, he stayed close, drawing his nose along the side of mine, our positions meaning our eyes had difficulty meeting.

But we managed it.

“How you doin’?” he asked quietly.

That made me want to laugh, the question was so damned crazy.

I was limp in his arms.

Hell, I was in his arms.

How did he think I was doing?

“I’m hangin’ in there.”

He found humor in my response too; I saw it light his gaze.

It sobered as he murmured, “My brown-eyed girl.”

I sobered too, that feeling hitting my eyes again as I whispered, “Merry.”

If I meant to say more (which I didn’t know if I did or didn’t), I couldn’t when he gave me a fierce squeeze.

“Means a lot, you takin’ a shot at this with me.”

Oh God.

I had to give it to him.

I had to.

I couldn’t fuck this up again. Not for him. Not for me.

“Means a lot to me too.”

His sober eyes warmed.

“Like your boy, Cherie. Wanna get a chance to get to know him better when the time is right for you. But that’s gonna wait. Right now, wanna know when you’re next day off is ’cause just you and me are goin’ to Swank’s.”

And it came again. Something I’d never had. Something I’d never felt. Something incredible given to me by Merry.

This time it was him asking me on our first date and telling me that date would be at Swank’s, a fashionable, expensive restaurant in Indy.

This meant not a bullshit date.

This was a big-time, whole hog, in your face, this means something to me, we’re gonna ride it out but we’re gonna start that ride right date.

“Swank’s?” I whispered.

“You got a nice dress?”

I didn’t have one good enough for Swank’s. But I’d steal one if I had to.

“Yes,” I lied.

He smiled.

Oh God.

“Night off, babe,” he prompted.

“Feb doubled me up. This week, Thursday and Friday.”

“I’ll get us in Swank’s tomorrow.”

Oh God.

He wasn’t messing around.

“I’m scared.”

There I was again with the blurting.

His smile died, but his arms got tighter. “I know.”

We stared at each other without either of us saying more.

This lasted a long time and it was time I didn’t want to end, standing in my living room in Garrett Merrick’s arms.

It seemed, since he didn’t move, he agreed with me.

But life was life, so eventually we’d have to let go of that moment.

And, not surprisingly, it was Merry who was the one who had the strength to do it.

“Wish we had time to talk shit out right now, but I gotta get back to work.”

“Right,” I said, making a move to pull away.

He didn’t let me go, so I stopped and focused on him.

He lifted his head and I straightened mine but neither of us went far.

“For planning, you gotta know, Cherie, that you owe me.”

I felt my eyes narrow in confusion. “I what?”

“Owe me, baby, and when we work out that debt, I’ll want more than your hand down my pants.”

My legs got wobbly.

“Right,” I said again, this time breathy.

One side of his lips curled up and it was again cocky. “I’ll get you home to your boy after Swank’s, but just sayin’, whoever’s lookin’ after him’s gotta know you’re gonna have a late night.”

My still-sensitive clit gave a throb that was of a strength and enjoyableness I preferred to focus on, so I just nodded.

He kept the cocky grin as he watched me do it.

He apparently had enough time to continue looking smug and not let me go and go to work, which I started to find annoying.

“Would you like me to send a thank you note for my orgasm, or would me providing that gratitude verbally right now suffice?” I asked touchily.

“Prefer your gratitude to come in a different form than both, so I’ll just wait until tomorrow.”

I rolled my eyes.

He gave me another squeeze, and when my eyes got back to him, I saw he was out-and-out smiling.

“Call you to let you know when I’m picking you up,” he told me.

“Okay, Merry.”

He bent, touched his mouth to mine, gave me another squeeze, and then, to my despair that I hid totally, he let me go.

I stood where I was and watched him go.

He unlocked the front door, opened it, unlocked the storm door and had his hand on the handle before he looked back at me.

“We got a lot to talk about, Cher. We’ll get that shit outta the way tomorrow at Swank’s. But I don’t want you dreading it, because, honest as fuck, we’re gonna get through it and we’re gonna get past it. I won’t make you promises again that I can’t keep. Swear that, babe. So when I promise right now that I know where my head is at with you and I want us both to give this the best shot we can give it, you can believe that.”

God, Merry.

“You gonna give this the best shot you can give, sweetheart?” he asked when I said nothing.

I nodded.

He took in my nod, smiled a small smile, but pushed, “Promise me.”

I wanted to hesitate. I wanted to think about it. I was scared out of my mind.

But in that moment, I did not want to give any of that to Merry.

I wanted to give him nothing but what he needed.

So I gave it to him immediately.

“I promise, honey.”

His small smile got bigger before he said, “Later, Cher.”

“Later,” I replied.

His eyes drifted over me, his smile quirked, then he walked out the door.

I watched him do it.

Then I went to it and stood in it as I watched him walk to his Excursion at the curb.

This time, as he drove away, he looked to me and flicked out a hand.

I lifted mine and returned the gesture.

When he was gone, I closed and locked both doors. Then, before I allowed myself to have a nervous breakdown or to act all stupid and girlie and shout with glee while twirling or something (I hadn’t been girlie in so long, I wasn’t sure how to do it), I went to my purse and pulled out my phone.

I maneuvered right to my text string with Merry and stared at the last two texts.

I fucked us up, baby, and I’m so fucking sorry.

Don’t text. If you forgive me, come see me.

The first one I typed in and left unsent.

Now it was sent.

The second one didn’t even sound like me.

I closed my eyes slowly as it came to me.

Ethan.

My little man, he so wanted his momma happy.

I opened my eyes and looked at the texts again, not having that first clue what to do.

Ethan should not have done that.

And Merry needed to know it wasn’t me who’d had the courage to take the next step.