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“Is that how you got into the funeral business?” she asked.
“I mean, I guess so. I never really thought about it before, but yeah. Once I graduated, I worked my way up in a few funeral homes until I was the director. That’s what I was doing when I got word that Uncle Donald had passed away. I knew all along that when it happened, Brooks would come to me, but it wasn’t like I was waiting for it to happen. I thought Uncle had lived to ninety-seven, so there was a good chance he might make it till one hundred.”
“I bet if your uncle had his way, he would still be here.”
“Yeah, I think you would be right, babe.”
She sighed and thought for a bit. Her gaze softened, a thoughtful expression crossing her features. “Any serious girlfriends? Ex-wives?” she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
I sighed and figured this was going to come up at some point. “I’ve had two serious relationships,” I admitted, my voice tinged with regret. “One ended fine, but the other…” I trailed off, the memory still fresh in my mind.
Dorothy reached out to squeeze my hand, her touch a comforting presence. “What happened?” she asked softly, her eyes filled with understanding.
I shook my head, struggling to find the right words to convey the tumultuous nature of my past relationship. “The girl was… well, let’s just say she was a little unstable,” I explained, choosing my words carefully. “It was hard to find someone who understood my job, who could handle the constant pressure and stress. Becky seemed like she got my job at first, but in the end, she didn’t. We ended things about a year ago.”
Dorothy’s expression softened with sympathy, her fingers tracing soothing circles on the back of my hand. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “Well, I’m not sorry that the relationships ended because if they hadn’t, then you wouldn’t be in my bed, but I’m just sorry you had to deal with all of that.”
“It’s okay,” I assured her, offering her a small smile. “It’s all in the past now, and you’re the only thing I care about.”
“I think those are all of the questions I have right now.”
I brushed a kiss to her lips. “I’m an open book, babe. Just ask away whenever you want.”
“I need to shower, and you need to go start the coffee,” she ordered.
“How about we both shower and then I’ll make coffee?”
She tossed the covers back and dashed to the bathroom. “I think you’re insatiable, Ro, and the only way you’re showering with me is if you promise to wash my back.” She ducked into the bathroom, and the sound of running water sounded.
I stalked to the bathroom, knowing I was going to do a whole hell of a lot more than just wash her back.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dorothy
I was getting the mail because I was two seconds away from storming into Rocco’s office and jumping him. It was the day before Imogen was due back, and Rocco and I had promised each other that we were not going to do anything more than kiss today while at work. We seriously needed to get a handle on being all over each other.
We kissed at lunch, but things got hot and heavy when Rocco ate not only his lunch but also me.
Extensively.
Twice.
Again, another thing I was going to think about each time I walked into the kitchen.
We had been able to get a hold of ourselves and not have sex, but Rocco eating me out in the kitchen was not something we could do when Imogen came back.
Walking to the mailbox seemed like the safest thing for me to do to stay away from Rocco. We had two hours until the end of the day, and I wasn’t sure if either of us was going to make it.
As I stepped outside, the cool breeze brushed against my skin, offering a momentary reprieve from the fiery passion that threatened to consume me whenever I was near Rocco. I made my way down the path to the mailbox, the crunch of gravel beneath my feet echoing in the stillness of the afternoon.
With each step, I tried to push aside the thoughts of Rocco that danced through my mind, the memory of his touch still lingering on my skin like a ghostly caress. But no matter how hard I tried to focus on the mundane tasks of the funeral home at hand, my thoughts kept drifting back to him, to the way his lips felt against mine, to the way his hands roamed over my body with a hunger that left me breathless.
“Stop it!” I shouted.
I looked around, thankful no one was around.
Not only would I be sex-crazed, but everyone would think I was a nut who talked to myself.
