"Oh, honey, that's awful. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, kind of. I feel a little better knowing Ace is here."
"So he's on your couch … "
"Yes." I laugh. "On my couch."
"I didn't think you even liked him that much."
I snort. "We didn't really see eye to eye, but he's a cop and he knows what he's doing, you know? It seemed like the logical thing to do."
"Right, logical."
I roll my eyes, even though she can't see it. "Be quiet. I feel safer, at least."
She makes a concerned sound. "So you don't think you were sleepwalking then?"
I exhale slowly. "I'm starting to think maybe I wasn't. It doesn't make a lot of sense. I mean, the shirt maybe, but the rest of it … "
Taylor makes another noise in her throat. "It does seem odd, doesn't it? I just don't understand why anyone would do something like that. I mean, they obviously have to have known you were married, and that you lost your husband, so why would they do that?"
I wonder that myself. "That's what I'm trying to figure out. To think someone is doing it on purpose makes absolutely no sense and it just keeps leading me back to the fact that maybe I am sleepwalking … "
"Possibly, but, I don't know … it still doesn't seem to be adding up, does it?"
I exhale and sigh. "No."
"Anyway, honey, I'd love to talk more but I really do need to get back to work. I'll pop around tomorrow, after I've had a sleep, and see how you're doing, okay?"
"Okay, love you."
"Love you too."
I hang up the phone and climb out of bed. I tiptoe down the hall and into the kitchen, needing some water and trying not to make any noise. I glance over at the sofa, where Ace is sleeping so quietly you wouldn't even know he was there if his big body wasn't practically hanging off the sides. Poor guy. That can't be comfortable. I should probably be nicer to him.
He didn't have to stay, after all.
I study him while he's asleep, and notice he's not wearing that signature scowl. I wonder what happened to make him so broody? Is it just that he's got such a demanding job and it tires him out, or is it something else? I let my eyes roam over the edges of his perfectly masculine face. He's an exceptionally good-looking man, I can't deny that. He's the kind of man who sparks a fire in your soul.
He's the kind of man who, if you were dating, you'd always want to be with, just so you could feel what he makes you feel. He'd have passion raging in your body. It's written all over him. Raymond wasn't like that, and come to think of it, neither is Jacob. They're the good-looking, sweet, charming kind. Ace, he's the dangerous kind, the fierce protector, the man of very few words.
What would it be like to be loved by someone like him? I've never really thought about dating a man like him. I guess I never really knew many of them. I will admit it does spark my curiosity.
"Are you goin' to stare at me all night?"
I squeal and jump backwards at the gruff voice that sounds out of nowhere. What the hell? How did he know I was standing there looking at him? His eyes were closed. He barely moved. I blink a few times, and then say in a weak tone, "I wasn't staring!"
///
Even I don't believe it.
He probably thinks I really am crazy. Dammit.
"I can feel you," he grumbles, opening those eyes and looking directly at me. "You always stare at people when they sleep?"
I cross my arms, trying to pull out some sass, even though my heart is thudding against my rib cage. I can't really explain this one away, because, well, I was being a weirdo just standing there and staring at the poor guy. "I was just admiring the fact that you're so peaceful and kind-looking when you're sleeping. Probably something to do with the fact that you're not speaking."
He grunts, pushing up.
The blanket falls off, revealing that sculpted, perfectly toned body. My mouth goes dry and I try very very hard to avert my eyes. I mean, I've seen it before but it still renders me speechless. He has an incredible body-it's tight, and well formed, and smooth as hell. He has tattoos down both his arms, one running over his shoulder and his chest. I don't study them too closely, but they look like they might be some sort of skull design, with flames mixed in.
I swallow and turn quickly when he cocks an eyebrow at me.
I warm myself up a glass of milk and get the hell out of there before he sees the flush creeping up my cheeks.
* * *
"Seriously?" Jacob says, taking a seat at my kitchen counter. "Why didn't you call me?"