Page 36 of Hold You Close
“What time will you be home?”I ask as Ian stands in front of the mirror in his bedroom, looking unbelievably hot.
He’s wearing a navy suit, brown shoes, and a light blue shirt with the top two buttons open. Seriously, I’m glad I’m usually watching CSI by the time he leaves for work or I’d probably be like a dog staring out the window each day just to catch a glimpse of him.
“Usually I’m home by four,” he says as he fixes a piece of stray hair.
“Four?” I scream. “In the morning?”
He looks over as though I’m a total idiot. “What did you think?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Like maybe midnight?”
Ian tosses his head back and laughs. “Are you kidding?”
“I don’t exactly go clubbing, Ian.”
“The club doesn’t get busy until midnight. I’ll be here before you have to leave for work,” he assures me.
That’s not the problem. “That’s great, but where the hell am I supposed to sleep?”
He looks perplexed for a moment and then shrugs. “You can sleep in my bed.”
No.
No fucking way.
“Not happening.”
“Well, all the guest rooms are now the kids’ bedrooms. You’re welcome to the couch, but five nights a week that’s going to get a little old, don’t you think?”
My life has gone to complete shit thanks to him. I have a beautiful home that I bought all on my own. It has three bedrooms, a huge four-poster king-size bed that is clean and untarnished by bodily fluids. I can’t sleep in his bed.
I can’t lay in the place that is all . . . him.
“There has to be another option. I really don’t want chlamydia or whatever else is on that mattress.”
Ian chuckles. “Just think, it’ll be the closest you’ve been to having sex in a long time.”
“You’re such a pig. I could have sex if I wanted! There’s no shortage of offers,” I tell him.
“Your vibrator doesn’t count.”
I slap his arm. “Stop it. I’m serious. If I’m going to be helping you, I need somewhere to sleep.”
He sighs and grips the back of his neck. “Look, I’m doing the best I can, but creating a bedroom for you is not on my very long list. This afternoon I ended up taking Ruby to basketball and Morgan to dance. Christopher’s friend thankfully saw him after school and took him to practice.”
I open my mouth and shake my head. “You fucked that all up, huh?”
“Yup.”
There’s no denying that he’s trying, but . . . I’m not sleeping in his bed.
Ian walks over, lifts his hand, and drops it before it touches me. “No one has been in my bed since Sabrina’s death, it’s clean. My housekeeper came today, and she’s coming three times a week now. You don’t have to worry about that, okay? If you want to sleep on the couch, that’s fine, but my bed is there if you change your mind.”
My stomach clenches as I think about the last time we were in the same bed. It didn’t end well.
We made promises.
We made love.
