Page 64 of Almost Dead (The Cahills 2)

“You’ll get the hang of it. Besides, no harm, no foul.”

“Yeah, right.”

He rolled off her. The cold air in the room touched her skin, and she wondered why it was she couldn’t get enough of him. Why couldn’t she just throw him out and be done with it? True, she thought, as she pulled up her pajama bottoms and walked into the bathroom, she’d used the excuse of her grandmother’s violent death to let Jack back into her life. Twisting on the faucets, waiting for the water to heat, she admitted to herself that it had seemed petty and selfish to keep the divorce front and center when people were being killed. But by putting the divorce on the back burner, she’d sent out mixed signals to her estranged husband.

Was that what she wa

nted?

So what’s the big deal? her mind taunted as she stepped out of her pajamas and into the shower. Another week or two? Who cares? You’re separated…well, kind of. Allowing the hot needles of water to wash away her anxiety, she picked up a bottle of shampoo, poured a dab in her hand, and worked it through her wet hair. Steam rolled through the room, and she felt her mind clear and her body relax. You’re on no timetable, no schedule; you can do this any time you want. She’d been outraged, of course, when she’d seen Jack coming out of Larissa’s and had told her attorneys she wanted the fastest divorce possible, but her anger had tempered a little over the past few weeks, and Jack, damn him, had been incredibly charming.

But you know that about him.

From the first time you met, he got to you.

All-blue eyes, athletic body, irreverent bad-boy smile, and maverick appeal.

From the moment he turned his attention your way, you were had. Don’t be played again, Cissy. Do not!

Damn it all.

She rinsed and lathered, hot spray running down her face and neck.

Rap. Rap. Rap.

He was knocking?

“What?” she called over the glass door and heard the door to the bathroom creak open. This wasn’t a good idea.

“Coffee,” Jack announced through the steam. “Geez, it’s like a cloud bank in here.”

She smelled the rich aroma, heard the clink of a cup being set on tile.

“And that’s all? You came in just to bring me coffee?” The lather had drained away.

“Well, that’s up to you.”

“That sounds like a bad line from a B movie, Jack. A real bad one.” She clicked open the shower door, reached for her towel, and stepped into the small, foggy room. Jack was there, of course, standing naked as the day he was born. “For the love of God.” She wrapped the terry towel quickly around her. “Did you make the coffee that way?”

He glanced down at his nude body, unconcerned. “Gave Coco a thrill.”

“You’ll scandalize the neighbors.”

“I hope so.”

She thought he’d pull her into his arms, force her back into the shower and do all kinds of incredible things to her body while the water cascaded over them and the soap made their skin slick and pliable. Instead, his blue eyes sparkling, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, he eased around her and stepped into the shower. “It’s big enough for two,” he said pointedly.

She gazed at him, knowing if she wanted him, he was ready. But he wanted her to come to him.

“I’ll see you downstairs,” she said after a long moment.

“Tease.”

“Oh, yeah, right.”

She toweled her body and rubbed the water from her hair, then tossed on her robe. Quickly she reached for her brush, but it wasn’t in its usual spot in the drawer. What? She searched, but came up empty-handed. Rather than worry about it, she found a wide-toothed comb and ran it through her hair, pulling water out. Then she picked up her cup of coffee and, after peeking into B.J.’s room and finding him sleeping soundly, headed down the hall.

Jack had to go. He had to. For her sanity. He couldn’t just hang out here, she thought, walking downstairs.

---