“I’m sorry, did I scare you?” He opened the lower cabinet he’d nudged her away from and drew out the trashcan he sought.
The glass bottles clinked at the bin bottom, and she put a hand over her rapidly beating heart, willing it to slow. Broken hearts weren’t supposed to beat that fast. The racing had to be a death portent of some sort, given her luck.
“No. I’m just skittish. I guess it’s the ingrained parenting thing. If I hear a noise, I think it’s Toby getting into something, even if my eyes are telling me otherwise.” Lame excuse, and she knew it.
Seth studied her as he straightened up, his expression a blank. “Oh.”
“So…” She freed her hair from her collar and shifted her weight to her right foot. “Bedroom, or if you’re feeling more adventurous, there’s the sofa…” Eyeing the wicker thing, bedecked by coral floral-print cushions, she immediately regretted the suggestion. It’d struggle to hold their combined weights, but to add exertion to it? They’d end up with a whopping bill from the resort. The romp would make for a memorable trip, but the fallout would be hell on her checking account. And there was Toby’s preschool tuition to pay and…did Spike pay off the mortgage on the Raleigh condo? Maybe she should call her lawyer as soon her plane touched down at RDU. The HOA fees were going to be burdensome enough without adding that huge monthly payment to her list of expenses. She might even have to sell the thing, though she’d hate to do it. It was the only home Toby had ever known.
“Bedroom is fine,” he said, rousing her from her reverie.
“Right.” She swallowed and turned on her heel.
He followed at a respectful distance, stopping a few feet away when she paused to open the master-bedroom door. She shouldered it in, and on the way to the bed, nudged Toby’s beach trunks and flip-flops out of the way with her foot.
He closed the door behind them, closing him in with her, and suddenly the room seemed so much smaller. Earlier, she’d marveled at the spaciousness. The room was even larger than her bedroom at home, and the second room—the one Toby occupied—wasn’t much smaller. The suite was truly a luxury booking, and everyone would have expected that of her: the rock star’s ex-wife.
She moved to the bed and sat on the edge. She gripped the bottom hem of her tank top, and her gaze trained on the shiny wood floor.
His bare feet passed in front of her, and a moment later the glow of a lamp added brightness to the area. He tracked back to the door and shut off the overhead light, leaving the fan going. There was already a chill in the room from the overenthusiastic air conditioning system. The vent pointed straight at the bed, so the fan seemed unnecessary. Wasn’t worth quibbling about, though.
By the time he made it back to the end of the bed, he’d peeled off his shirt.
Meg’s hands stilled, and she clamped her bottom lip between her teeth. She’d known he was big. She’d seen his calves and forearms, but all that was just a hint of what was beneath his clothes.
He wasn’t muscled in the way guys who live and breathed the gym were, but there was an athleticism about his chest and upper arms that hinted at either very hard physical labor, or engagement in frequently rigorous play.
Holy hell, what was she getting herself into?
He stood in front of her, nearly toe-to-toe, and her hands seemed to be operating on their own volition as they pressed against his firm belly, and edged down to his waistband.
His fingers did that lacing through the back of her hair again, and he gave it a tiny yank, tipping her face up to meet his.
“I don’t carry condoms with me,” he whispered. “Hate to toss you in cold water.”
She closed her eyes and puzzled over his words. “You mean, throw ice water on me?”
His lips quirked up on one side and he shrugged. “I get it all mixed up. The English language is so…idiomatic.”
No kidding. She’d studied it, after all.
“I may have one in my toiletry bag. Let me look.”
She hadn’t intended to make him sheathe up at all. She’d had an IUD ever since she’d stopped nursing Toby, but there was the issue of STDs. She couldn’t speak for Seth, but having been married to Spike, maybe getting tested at the next available opportunity wouldn’t be a bad idea.
He pulled his hands free of her hair, and she struggled to put weight on her wobbling legs. Already, his fingers toyed at the fastening of his shorts, and as she strode across the room to the closet, she said a little prayer to whichever god would receive it that there’d be just one rubber in her bag.
She toggled the light switch and dropped to her knees to push the lid of her suitcase open.