Love Me by Diane Alberts

counted from one to five soundlessly. His amusement rose with each number. When she opened her eyes with a calm smile, he tucked her hair behind her ear.
    “Feel better?”
    “Not really,” she said. “A little. I’m sorry. He’ll be stubborn, I’m afraid. He misses his dad. Don’t let it bother you.”
    “Don’t worry about me.” He pulled her into his arms. She rested her cheek on his chest. She felt so perfect against him. He was tempted to tell her—tell her how right she felt in his arms. But he couldn’t. Not when he could still hear Nicole mocking him for daring to express human emotion. He took a slow breath and chose his words carefully. “I’ll be fine.”
    “Really?”
    No. “Sure.”
    She exhaled and pulled free from his arms, curled her fingers into the front of his shirt, dragged him down, and kissed him hungrily. He stumbled only momentarily before he crushed her in his arms—where she damned well belonged. When she dipped her tongue into his mouth, he sank deeper into her, seizing a desperate and ruthless control. God, no woman had ever kissed him like this. Wild. Hungry. Savage.
    He buried his fingers into her hair and backed her against the wall. She tore free, panting. He bent to kiss her again but she stayed him with a finger to his lips.
    “We can’t. The kids are in the other room.”
    Reality hit him harder than a kick to the nuts. He forced himself to pull back. “Shit. Sorry.”
    “That’s a bad word,” a prim little girl said from the doorway. Katelyn, he guessed, with her neat blond curls and her mother’s ladylike demeanor. She carried a Nintendo 3DS in her tiny hands and watched Thomas curiously. “Mama says for bad words you have to put a quarter in the swear jar.”
    Brianna’s lips twitched at the corners. “Well…he doesn’t live here, so he doesn’t have to play by our rules.”
    The girl’s face fell. “That’s not fair.”
    “She’s right. That’s not fair.” Thomas felt around in his pocket and withdrew a quarter. “I’ll pay up. I shouldn’t curse around pretty ladies.”
    “See, Mommy?” Katelyn smiled, her eyes bright. They were her mother’s eyes, hazel and clear. “I was right. It was a bad word.”
    Thomas knelt before her. “Why don’t you show me where the swear jar is?”
    “It’s in the kitchen.” She offered her hand.
    He curled her fingers inside his larger ones, dwarfing her. It was the strangest feeling—that tiny hand in his, trusting and fragile and soft. His heart thumped oddly. He met Brianna’s gaze over Katelyn’s head.
    Thank you, she mouthed. He nodded.
    “Let’s go,” he said.
    Katelyn led him into the kitchen and pointed at a grape jelly jar on the counter. A hole had been cut into the lid, and a piece of paper had been taped to it. Bad Word Jar. It was spelled wrong, and the d was a b , but he got the gist. There was a surprising amount of money in the jar, and he dropped his quarter into it.
    “I get to keep the money.” Katelyn’s chest puffed out. “It was my idea. Most of the money is from Mama, but some is from Zach. I’ve never had to put in money.”
    Thomas chuckled and knelt again. “Because you’re a good girl, right?”
    “Right.” She beamed, her 3DS clutched tightly to her chest. “I like him, Mama.”
    One kid down, two to go.
    “I do, too,” Brianna said.
    Thomas looked over his shoulder. Brianna leaned against the kitchen counter, a small smile softening her lips. His stomach tightened. He stood and wiped his hands on his jeans.
    “There’s a lot of money in there. Why am I not surprised you curse like a sailor?”
    “Worse,” she admitted with a sheepish smile. “But I’m working on it. I try to save the cursing for after they’re asleep.”
    A young boy came into the room—had to be Cody. He eyed Thomas with disinterest. “When are we eating?”
    Brianna retrieved a Domino’s menu from the counter. “I’ll order the pizza now.”
    Cody nodded. “Katelyn, come on. You