Page 43 of Crossing the Line
Hands that could massage her aching muscles, but they could also stir up her desire.
Desire that she'd forgotten.
Desire that was suddenly burning deep inside of her.
"Bix-"
"Is this too much?"
She smiled at the hesitation in his voice.
It felt like the first time that they'd had a long, long time ago.
"Maybe," she felt her knees sink into the couch cushions on either side of his thighs, "it's not enough."
"Honey..."
There was something about the way he said the word.
The sound of it in her ears.
Or maybe it was the feelings that unfurled inside of her, like the first scent of Spring flowers or the first taste of mulled cider in the fall.
It all felt like... like home.
He sat up, pulling her closer. "I know I'm breaking the rules here."
She lowered her chin, smiling at him. "Well, it started with you being willing to help me, so we can put the blame on my shoulders."
He smiled back at her. "I always liked your shoulders."
He touched her cheek with the palm of one of his hands.
"I like a lot about you."
She leaned into his touch. "I think we really messed up."
"I know you're not talking about that monstrosity out back that Hank and I will be building until he's old and gray."
Janice raised a brow at that. "Just Hank?"
Bixby smiled at her, and she loved that look on him. "Well, I'm already old and gray, so..."
"Don't be rude to yourself," she lifted a hand and smoothed her palm over his hair, taming some of it. "I happen to like your gray." She leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on his lips. "I've got my own share of gray."
"I think it looks good on you, babe." He leaned in and kissed her back. "I know what you're talking about. I think we let ourselves get in a rut," his voice was softer, but she heard the truth in his words easy enough. We spent almost every hour with each other. We got up, we went to work. We came home and did it all over again, every day. I don't think it was healthy for either of us. It certainly wasn't good for our relationship."
She nodded, agreeing with him. It was impossible to argue with the bare truth.
"Familiarity breeds contempt?"
"In our case? More like ennui." He sighed. "I remember when we'd sit down to eat after a long day at the market..."
She nodded, remembering those long, desolate, and silent meals.
"Some couples get to have a meal and talk to each other, but we lived every minute together."
She closed her eyes, holding back a sudden spate of tears. "We had nothing to talk about that we hadn't already lived with."
