Page 21 of Mine To Break
“Don’t drive home and shower first,” she yawned and the sleepy sound curled his toes. She sounded like a kitten all curled up and sweet—not the ferocious tiger on the prowl. “You can shower here.”
He started up his truck and turned toward her place. “You sure you want me fumbling around in your bathroom? I thought that was a woman’s sacred space.”
“Ha, not me. My sacred space is my bed and you’ve already been here.”
Her words were sweet, but mumbled and slurred. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Now go back to sleep, ma’am.”
“If I wasn’t so tired I’d probably beat you when you got here for trying to tell me what to do.” She yawned again and sheets rustled, as if she was burrowing back down in her pillows. “Drive safely.”
“Will do.” He hung up and fought the urge to floor it. At least there wasn’t any traffic this early in the morning, though it felt like he crawled all the way to her house by following the speed limit. Her street was dark, but the porch light was on. Had she gotten up after all? Or did she normally leave it on? Maybe he was reading too much into this. A single woman, living alone, would probably always have a light on. It had nothing to do with the hope that her lover might come to her in the wee hours of the morning. Walking up to her door, he checked his phone, and found her text with the code to her automatic door lock.
Habit made him pause and scan his surroundings once again, listening and feeling for any sense of anyone watching or following. Not even a dog barked in the neighborhood. His fingers trembled slightly on the keypad but he got the code entered on the first try and quietly shut and locked the door behind him. A night light gleamed in the hallway, leading him to the bathroom. Knowing that she was so close it was all he could do not to slide into bed and take her in his arms, but he wouldn’t come to her smelling of the streets. In fact, he should have taken his shoes off at the door rather than walking through her house. God only knew what he’d contaminated her wood floors with. Next time, he swore to himself. He’d take his shoes off and tiptoe through her house.
Next time. Would this continue that far?God, I hope so.
The water barely had time to heat up and he was out, drying off with a towel from the shelf. He looked like hell, all grizzled cheeks and dark circles beneath his eyes, but he didn’t want to rummage around in her drawers to find a razor. A basket on the shelf held a couple of brand new toothbrushes still in the wrapper. Hopefully she wouldn’t mind him using one, because he sure didn’t want to have to remember not to kiss her. He tidied up—hung the towel on a hook on the door, picked up his clothes and stacked them neatly on the floor out of the way—and then slipped on his boxers. He didn’t want to presume too much by sliding into her bed naked when she’d clearly said no scene, no sex. At least not tonight.
Her room was pitch dark, so he moved slowly, making sure he didn’t crash into that dog kennel or her dresser. Her breathing was deep and even, so she’d been able to get back to sleep after his call. As quietly as possible, he climbed onto the mattress, carefully feeling for her position so he wouldn’t pull her hair or thump her in the head. His fingers found her warmth, the silk of her arm. She wore something too, cotton, it felt like, so he was glad he hadn’t come to her bed naked. He tucked in behind her, spooned against her and she sighed. Nestling her head back against him, she put her hand on his arm and tucked him closer.
Lying there, listening to her breathe, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d held a woman like this. Not for sex, but just… warmth. Comfort. Company. He smoothed his hand gently up and down her arm, reveling in the silk of her skin, and the simple pleasure of touching her. He buried his nose in her hair and fell like a rock into heavy sleep.
