Page 59 of Come Back for Me
“Hey,” Connor says with an easy smile as he makes his way into the living room where I’m grading papers. It’s been a crazy night, and I’m still trying to get caught back up from being out of work after the beating.
“He—” Complete words die on my tongue as I look up and get a look at him. He must’ve just gotten out of the shower because he’s in a pair of gym shorts and no shirt with damp hair. There are a few drops of water rolling down his chest.
My throat goes dry as I drink him in. I can see each muscle with perfect clarity as though he’s in high definition. His hair is slicked back, and my fingers itch to touch it. He rubs his hand against the smooth skin of his chest, and then up to his neck. I’ve seen him with his shirt off, hell, I’ve seen him naked, but this . . . this body is a whole new world of wow.
I turn to keep myself from swooning off the chair.
“Working?” he asks as he moves behind me, reading over my shoulder.
Oh my God. Get a grip, Ellie.
But I can’t because I can feel the heat coming off his chest and smell the musky soap that he used.
His arm comes down to the right of me, resting his hand on the table, using it to hold his body up.
“Uh-huh,” I stay, completely frozen, afraid that if I move, I might accidentally touch him, which then might lead to me saying or doing something incredibly dumb. That seems to be something I’ve been fighting a bit harder with each day I’m here.
Kissing him is all I think about.
Wondering if we fit together the way we did all those years ago fills my fantasies.
It’s dangerous ground, but the injuries might be worth it.
“Need help?”
I shake my head and try to focus on the very non-sexy English papers about punctuating dialogue I should be grading.
“Ellie?”
I move my head to the side to look up at his face, hoping that maybe that will be better than the muscles in his arm that are so close. “Yeah?”
He grins, eyes crinkling, and I realize I made a grave mistake. His face is really what’s beautiful, and when he smiles, well, it’s damn near impossible not to get lost.
But I don’t need to be lost.
I need to keep my head on straight, get a divorce, and get the hell out of here.
“You going to stay up much later?”
No, in fact, I’m going to my room right now so I don’t do anything I regret. “I’m done, actually.”
“I was asking because I have to get up early tomorrow. I want to work on the main house instead of the barn. I’d like to check the house and lock up, but I usually wait until you’re in bed.”
“Yeah, all done. Not a big deal. Main house is good. Locks and all that,” I stammer like a fool.
“You all right?”
“I’m great,” I say way too quickly, gathering the papers into stacks that make no sense but needing to do something with my hands. “I’m just tired, you know, working and all the other stuff. Plus, Sydney has the divorce papers all drawn up, and it’s been a lot to sort through.”
“So, you’re going through with it?”
I look up, pulling the papers to my chest as though they’re some kind of barrier of protection. “Of course.”
“I hadn’t heard anything.”
I wasn’t sure what to tell him. It’s one of those things I don’t really want to talk about, but at the same time, Connor and I have spent the last two weeks practically living together, which is strange.
“I’m sorry, I sort of . . . have been waiting since we can’t serve him for a bit.”
