Heat flared in anticipation of seeing her naked and sweaty and staring at him. Of hearing her call out his name and feeling her mouth on his eager body. Of losing himself in her, utterly and completely.
Seconds turned into minutes turned into hours of tangled arms and legs, of beating hearts and panting breaths, of murmured ecstasy, until they drifted into blissful sleep as one.
Chapter Eleven
Disoriented by dawn’s first rays, Colby wished she’d remembered to close the blinds. She pressed her fingers to her slightly tender lips. Lips ravaged by hundreds of perfect kisses. Limbs heavy from hours of lovemaking.
Most guys had made short work of foreplay. Alec, however, had never been like most guys.
After a lifetime of watching him pay particular attention to every detail, be it a puzzle or a recipe or any project he’d ever attempted, it didn’t surprise her to discover he was also that kind of lover. The memory of his touch unleashed a rush of warmth that coiled in her tummy, making her smile. Words that rarely entered her vocabulary anymore—“sweet, emotional, moving”—came to mind.
She watched him sleeping on his stomach, arms and legs akimbo, and studied his graceful cheekbones, shiny hair, curve of his shoulders, outline of triceps. At once familiar and yet so fascinatingly new.
Only inches separated them in her bed. It had been nearly two years since she’d shared this space with anyone.
Mark had been a belly sleeper, too. When they’d first met and made love, he’d also enthralled Colby even as her instinct warned her to slow down. She should’ve listened to that instinct instead of being impulsive—of getting swept up in emotion and lust. But she’d been young and had rushed into marriage with all the assuredness and hopefulness of any inexperienced young woman. Now the ashes of that marriage still gathered in the alcoves of her mind, no matter how often she tried sweeping them away.
And yet, without much hesitation, she’d given in to impulse again last night. Alec’s perfect kisses had swept her away, just as he’d promised. Now what? Could she and Alec share something like Hunter and Sara had, or were the obstacles and history too overwhelming? Doubts began circling the bed, making her chest tight. The urge to push away—to run as far and fast as she could—gripped her with astonishing force.
She slid out of bed and, after quietly slipping on some clothes, went to the living room and paced. She’d forgotten how awkward “the morning after” could be with a man who wasn’t one’s husband, not to mention one who’d been a friend, an adversary, a pseudo brother . . .
Oh, good God. Alec Morgan was naked in her bed. How could that seem right and wrong at the same time?
Sun rays streamed through the plate glass, glinting off her wedding band and stopping her heart. She lifted the ring, now warm and familiar in her palm. It didn’t belong on her ring finger after last night.
She tested the band on her right hand, which felt odd. Odd but necessary. Unwelcome, irrational feelings of betrayal of both Mark and Alec tangled her thoughts and emotions into a thick knot. Food might help. She grabbed her keys and headed for a convenience store to buy eggs and milk. At the very least, cooking would give her something to do until Alec woke up.
Along the three-block walk, she passed by a homeless man sleeping in a corner near a garage. Many of the homeless clustered closer to the highways, where the mayor allowed them to pitch tents at night. The population seemed to be expanding lately, with more scattered throughout the city, especially near the parks.
That man’s fate—alone, penniless, and covered by a thin, dingy blanket—could’ve easily been Mark’s, too. He’d burned through his accounts during manic phases, spending ungodly sums on crazy things like plane tickets for a spiritual trip to Tibet and cases of sixty-dollar bottles of organic elderflower lemonade from Europe. Once he gambled away nearly his entire savings in Vegas. Had it not been for her job and her CTC stock, he could’ve easily ended up huddled in some corner of the city.
Mark’s family lived in New Hampshire and had kept in touch sporadically at best. Without her, Mark would’ve been lost long before they’d learned he went missing.
Not that she’d ultimately been able to save him. That thought always twisted her stomach. She knew, deep down, she’d never fully shirk the weight of her share of responsibility for what happened to her marriage and to her husband. To her. Did other people walk around hiding that level of guilt and pain?
She glanced over her shoulder, wondering if the stranger had any family. If he, too, was mentally ill.
On her way home from the convenience store, she set a small bag with bread, peanut butter, and apple juice near the still-slumbering homeless man. He stirred but didn’t waken. Slightly afraid, she scooted away, wishing she were braver. Wishing she could do more. Then she remembered Alec’s wonderful idea. A smile formed, not only because she knew just what she wanted to do, but also because it reminded her of Alec’s best trait: his kind heart.