Read Online Turning Thirty-Twelve by Sandy James - Free Book Online Page A

“That’s only a year older than Kathy. Way too young. How old were you when your oldest came along. Patrick, is it?”
    “Yeah, Patrick.” I was flattered he’d remembered but not thrilled with confessing my youthful indiscretion. “Let’s just say he was a big baby for being six weeks premature. I was only twenty. Nate was a few years later. Then we learned about this miraculous invention called ‘birth control.’”
    He chuckled. Then his face turned serious. “Elaine and I were high school sweethearts.”
    My heart clenched in empathy. He was sharing stories with me about his late wife, and it was an important sign, a tell. He felt comfortable with me—just like I was comfortable around him.
    I suddenly felt pulled in two directions. I wanted to know about her, but I didn’t. It wasn’t as if I couldn’t recognize that her ghost was sitting between us, I just didn’t want to know her well enough to mourn her passing. But I quickly realized I already did. I mourned what Mark and his daughters had lost.
    “It took us some time to have the girls. Not horribly long, but Elaine was getting...nervous. It’s not like the Army has a lot of fertility benefits.”
    We talked for some time about our lives, our families. Mark kept touching me. Sweet little caressing touches on my hand, my wrist, my knee. They were simple pats, almost absentminded. I’d forgotten how much I loved that type of contact and realized just how desperately I’d missed it.
    After the first couple of years, David hadn’t been very demonstrative. Toward the end of our marriage, sex had become more a biological function than a loving expression of affection. I drank each of Mark’s caresses in like good, smooth whiskey, and he made me feel just as drunk.
    We never did get around to watching another movie. By the time I recovered from my “Mark bender,” I looked up at the clock and gasped.
    Midnight .
    “Oh, my stars. How did it get to be midnight?” I asked.
    “Good company and pleasant conversation. Are you afraid your car will turn back into a pumpkin?” He chuckled and gave me one of those incredible smiles.
    “It’s already a pumpkin.” I stood up and stretched. “I really should be heading home. I’ve abused your hospitality long enough.”
    Mark jumped to his feet, grabbed my hand, and tugged me into his arms. Damn, it was like some romantic movie as he stood there staring into my eyes. He was kissing me a second later.
    Only four guys had kissed me in my entire life. At least it was four if you didn’t count my father and my weird cousin Henry who kissed every woman he could get his hands on.  But even with my limited experience, I knew this man was something special—this kiss was something special.
    My heart pounded a rough, fast cadence. My blood ran so hot, I felt like I was sixteen again. His lips were soft, his tongue skilled. I stretched my arms up around his neck and let him hold me even closer.
    It was similar to leaning against a solid brick wall. The guy had to lift some heavy-duty weights to have a body like that. I could feel how hard my breasts were being flattened against his concrete chest. I don’t think I’d ever felt as aware of being a woman as I did when Mark was kissing me, when he was holding me.
    Of course, as much as I wanted to turn my mind off and simply revel in his kiss, the stupid bells started chiming in my head.
    He’s a parent. You have to see his daughter first period every morning.
    Ding, ding, ding, the bells continued to ring.
    He still misses his wife. He’s too good looking for you.
    Ding, ding, ding.
    I reluctantly eased away before things got too steamy. With the way my body was reacting to Mark, I could very easily fall into casual sex for the first time in my life. I’d never even been tempted before. All this man had to do was take a couple of steps toward a bedroom and crook his finger. I’d run after him like a bloodhound following a fresh, strong scent, tongue hanging