“That did it,” Tiffany whispered.
“Did what?” Devin looked at her, puzzled.
In answer she pulled him to her, pulled him down to kiss her. She could feel how stiff and angry he was, but slowly, ever so slowly, he shifted out of his past and into their present.
Their kiss was different this time. It wasn’t about heat, need, passion, or just feeling so incredibly good. It went deeper. It was about meaning, joy, and connection. Had Lillian and Ernest felt this, or had they only had heat and need? If so, for the first time Tiffany pitied her ancestor rather than envying her.
Devin slipped his arms about her, careful not to disturb the sleeping kid still warm in her lap. Devin saw her as a beautiful woman—who wasn’t a basket case-recluse-unholy mess—and for him, it became true.
She felt lik
