I held up my hand. "I'm just thinking about it."
He nodded. "That's a start."
I sighed. "It doesn't mean that I'll quit my job anytime soon. It could be a possibility in five to ten years."
His brow furrowed. "Why do you have to wait so long to live your dreams?"
"It's the practical decision. I can save money and plan it out." At his expression, I continued, "You don't agree?"
"I think you can talk about something forever and never do it. I think you can make plans but never start. I felt like that for years. I'd planned to quit when Hayden was five. Then it was ten, and then I wondered if I'd ever do it. Was I afraid to break from the military? What did I think would happen? I'd never find work again?"
I was surprised by his honesty. "You have your family's business to fall back on."
He arched a brow. "Do I?"
Hayden had been quiet through the meal thus far, and she shifted in her chair. "I think you should do what makes you happy. You're always talking about following your intuition when it comes to design, but what about your life? What do you want?"
"That's a good question." And I wasn't sure I'd find the solution tonight. "Since I've been here, I've realized I want more of a work-life balance."
We finished our dinner, and I cleaned up while Marshall drove Hayden to her friend's house. I was happy to have the house to ourselves for the evening, but I was unsure about my next move.
When the kitchen was clean, the front door opened, and Marshall appeared in the kitchen with a determined look on his face.
"What?" I asked as he cleared the space between us, bracketing my body with his hands on either side of my hips, braced on the counter behind me. One thick thigh nudged between my legs, and my gaze dropped to his lips.
"We're finally alone, and I can do this." He lowered his head so that our lips lined up, and he kissed me softly at first, coaxing my lips to part, then diving inside as if he'd waited his entire life to do this again.
My hands went to his chest, where I savored the heat of his body and the pounding of his heart. He lifted me, and my legs naturally went around his waist. Then he carried me upstairs. "I want you in my bed."
I whimpered as his mouth took mine again. I wasn't sure how he was walking, carrying me, and kissing me at the same time, but it was hot as hell.
He lowered me to the bed, then kicked the door closed, locking it for good measure. Then he ripped his shirt over his head. "I've waited a long time for this."
I propped myself up on my elbows as he shoved his shorts down and off. Then his briefs. His cock was already hard, as if he'd known exactly what he wanted to do with his evening—me.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" I asked, even as my mouth watered at the sight of his naked body, the lines of muscles, and smattering of golden hair.
He leveled me with a glare. "I never stopped wanting you. I kept a picture of you in my wallet when I was deployed."
I gasped. "You did?"
"You were my good-luck charm. You were right next to my daughter's picture, and now I'm starting to realize why I was never able to forget you."
"Why is that?" I asked as he knelt on the floor between my legs, working on the button of my shorts.
"I was meant to be here with you. On this island. In your arms. With you."
That was more intense than anything we'd ever said to each other as kids. Back then, we explored each other's bodies, figuring out what each other liked. Then later, it was declarations of love, but what did we know about that?
Now everything was more intense. There were real-life complications if we hooked up. I wanted more than one night, but I didn't have the heart to ask questions. What did this mean? Did he want me here forever? Was that even possible?
He urged me to lift my hips as he tugged my shorts over my hips and down my legs, leaving me in panties. I pulled off my shirt and unhooked my bra, wanting to catch up to where he was.
His gaze slowly perused my body. "You. Are. Gorgeous. The most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
Tears pricked the back of my eyes, but I refused to give into the sweet words. This was sex between exes. There was bound to be some emotion, but it didn't mean we were meant to be together. Surely, he understood that.
He spread my legs with his shoulders, and when he parted my folds, I fell back on the bed. The sensations were too much. It was Marshall between my legs, the only man I ever loved. He was about to give me an amazing orgasm. It was too much and not enough at the same time.
