Page 42 of The White Picket Fence

What if I want you to expect something?

The words were on the tip of his tongue but he bit them back. Not now. Not when she was vulnerable and hurting.

“Let me change into some sweats.” He pointed to the door behind her. “En suite bathroom is through there. Take your time. I won’t leave.”

Relief shimmered through her eyes. He’d said the right thing.

He’d be whatever she needed him to be tonight.

And tomorrow?

Tomorrow, too. She was back in his life, a gift he hadn’t known he’d longed for. But he had.

She disappeared into the bathroom and Tino raced to change his clothes. He had to rifle through his dresser drawers because sweatpants and a T-shirt weren’t his normal sleeping attire.

Normally he slept in the buff. But not tonight.

And if that’s what she wants?

Nope. Not gonna go there.

But it was too late. His body already had gone there. He was hard and wanting and in a few minutes he’d hold her in his arms. In his bed.

No.He stared down at his erection, willing it to subside. He made himself think of gross things—bags full of garbage on the city streets in August. No, not bad enough. He was still raring to go.

How about that time his nephew Dominic had beer for the first time on his twenty-first birthday and threw up all over Tino’s shoes?

He grimaced, remembering having to throw the shoes away. Yeah, that took care of the erection.

He’d really liked those shoes, too.

The bathroom door opened, revealing Charlotte in clothing similar to his own. “Why do you look so disgusted?” she asked. “My sweats are clean.”

Tino chuckled. “It’s not you. I promise.”

She gave him an odd look. “Okay.” Nervously she eyed the bed. “Is it okay if I...?”

“Of course.” He pulled back the blanket, gesturing for her to get between the sheets, his heart pounding harder as she did so. He joined her, turning off the light and pulling the blankets over them snugly. It was supposed to be cold tonight, but his body was burning up.

Not a fever.

Just desire. Want.He gritted his teeth, willing his body to behave. But her presence in his bed took him back twenty-four years. Back to when they’d been young and reckless. Back to the first time they’d had sex. He’d lain awake afterward for hours, just watching her and marveling that she was his.

Could she be again? He was terrified to hope.

Charlotte lifted her head off the pillow. “It’s okay, Tino. I’ll sleep on the sofa. You take the bed.”

“No.” He rolled to his side to frown at her. “Why?”

“Because you’re so tense about being here. About sharing a bed with me.”

Tino sighed. “Well, I am, but clearly not for the reasons you’re assuming. Charlotte, you’re...well, you’re a beautiful woman. And I’m only human.”

Her eyes widened, and then her lips curved, surprising him. “Really?”

She sounded delighted.

He laughed. “Really. But I’m not eighteen anymore. I can control myself.” He sobered when her smile dimmed. “Charlotte, I’ll stay here with you. You are worth any discomfort.”

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