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She hated to think about that day fast approaching. Once again her life would drastically change.
The least she could do was wash the dishes for Sean. So caught up in musing over how much she liked his kitchen, she didn’t pay close enough attention to the amount of water she was running. It backwashed out of a glass and all over her chest, soaking her, bra and all.
She was going to have to find something to wear. At least until she could dry her clothes out enough to put them on again. Prowling through Sean’s clothing wasn’t what she’d planned or wanted to do, but surely he would understand.
Cynthia headed down the hall in search of his bedroom. The first room she came to turned out to be an office, not a guest room. The way he felt about his family and not visiting them, he probably didn’t think he needed a guest room. Instead of a bed there was a solid oak desk facing the window that looked out over the porch. A desk lamp stood on it and a wooden banker’s chair was behind it. The chair looked as if it had been lovingly refinished. The man did have talent. He might believe in being thrifty but he liked quality. Sean was a diverse personality.
At the end of the hall was a larger bedroom. Knowing of these old homes’ architectural arrangements, she guessed Sean had removed a wall and remodeled the space into more spacious sleeping quarters. Again the furniture consisted of little more than the bare necessities. The floor was made of glossy dark wood she suspected was original to the house. The windows had full-length wooden blinds. They were partially closed. The oak bed was heavy and made the statement that the person who slept in it was all male. A log cabin patterned quilt was spread across it. A bedside table and lamp sat on one side. A tall chest of drawers stood against another wall. Everything about the room screamed Sean.
Cynthia stepped slowly into it. She was entering a private domain but her curiosity kept her going and, after all, she needed something to wear. Peeking past an open door, she found a modern bath but done in a style that stayed true to the age of the house. She loved the man’s taste. Of what she’d seen she wouldn’t change a thing about the fixtures of the house.
But there was one thing missing. The feeling of belonging. There were no pictures of anyone. It was as if Sean had no past or future. That saddened her. A good man like him should have people in his life who were important to him.
Going to the chest of drawers, she opened the top drawer. There she found his undershirts. They were too thin. Sean would be able to see straight through it if she borrowed one of those and he returned any time soon. In the second she found a dark T-shirt with the name of the hospital across the front. This would do until she had her clothing dried.
Returning to the kitchen, she found a small room off it containing a washer and dryer. There she tossed in her shirt and bra. It shouldn’t take them long to dry. Back in the living room, she turned on the TV again. Maybe something good was on that she could watch until Sean returned. Clicking through the channels, she located a favorite show. Feeling cool and not seeing a throw blanket, she went to Sean’s room and removed the quilt from his bed. She would replace it before she left. Surely Sean wouldn’t be upset with her making herself at home?
Returning to the living room, she curled into the large armchair and wrapped the quilt around her. She inhaled deeply and smiled. Between the chair, cover and shirt it was almost as if she were in Sean’s arms. As she watched a late-night talk show, she grew warm. She yawned and her eyes drifted closed.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SEAN RETURNED HOME closer to daylight than dark. When he’d headed for the hospital, he’d anticipated a quick visit but it had turned into emergency surgery that couldn’t wait. He’d had a second to think about Cynthia at his house. All he could do now was hope that she wasn’t mad. Not that it would make him feel any less a louse, but maybe she had called for a taxi or one of her brothers to come get her.
From the driveway he could see that the TV was still on. Cynthia would have turned it off if she wasn’t still here. He quietly let himself into the house, then thought better of it. What if he scared her? He had no need to worry. Cynthia was sound asleep in his chair.
She looked so small and so right in his large chair wrapped in his grandmother’s quilt. As if she belonged there. Quietly he put his keys and phone on the table. He wasn’t going to allow her to sleep in a chair any longer. He scooped her into his arms, blanket and all.
She blinked then murmured, “You’re home.”
He held her against his chest and kissed her temple before he headed to his bedroom. “I am.”
“Where’re we going?” she mumbled in a sweet, sleep-laden voice.
“My bed. Now, hush. Go back to sleep.” In his room he laid her on the bed, gently unrolled her from the blanket.
Was that his T-shirt she was wearing? He wouldn’t remove her pants, having already stepped over the propriety line by putting her in bed with him without asking her. Pulling the sheet over her, he then spread the quilt on top of that.
Cynthia wrapped her arms around his pillow with a sigh and brought it against her face.
Sean stood there watching her for a minute. How badly he wanted to properly wake her and show her how much he liked having her in his bed. Instead he found himself a clean pair of underwear and a pair of drawstring lounge pants before heading for the bathroom. There he took a cold shower despite having been looking forward to a hot one when he came home.
When he returned, Cynthia was curled up sound asleep in the middle of his bed. He slipped beneath the covers and rolled to his side, gathering her against his chest. Perfect. He would worry about her reaction to his forwardness in the morning. Seconds later he had joined her in sleep.
A wiggle of a warm body beside him woke Sean. There was a pink hazy color in the room. It wasn’t daylight yet.
His gaze met Cynthia’s.
She scooted away from him as if she had just registered where she was. He made no move to stop her. “What am I doing in bed? With you?”
“I put you here. My guests don’t sleep in a chair.” Maybe if he kept his actions matter of fact she wouldn’t get too upset.
She said quietly, “So you bring all your guests to bed after they go to sleep in your chair?”
His gaze didn’t leave hers. “No, you’re the first.”
Cynthia’s eyes widened. “Really? I’m the first woman to share this bed?”
He nodded. “Believe it.”
She studied him as if trying to decide if he was telling the truth or not. She looked at his bare chest. Lingered. He willed his obvious arousal to ease, but that was wasted effort. That wasn’t happening.
Cynthia’s attention moved lower. Her voice went a note higher. “You’re wearing pants.”
“Are you disappointed?” He watched different expressions play across her face at his innuendo. First questioning, contemplating, and then possibility.
“I don’t know. Yes, no. Maybe.”
“It’s simple. I came home far later than I anticipated and you were slumped in the chair. I felt bad and would have felt worse if you’d woken up in pain from sleeping that way. All I did was move you in here. I’d had a long night and needed sleep as well. We’re just two friends sharing the same blanket.” Someone needed to tell his libido that.
“Oh,” she said.
Had she sounded a little disappointed?
Cynthia moved away from him. “It’s still not sunrise. You need your rest. I’ll just go finish sleeping on the sofa.”
Sean reached across the space between them and caught her hand. How like her to always take the rougher road so that she could make it easier on someone else. “I wish you would stay. There’s enough room for us both here.”
Her uncertainty was charming.
“Please. I would feel better about going back to sleep.” For certain his body would be happier if she wa
s close.
Cynthia covered a yawn with her hand. “Okay.”
“Good.” Sean settled under the covers again. A second later he felt Cynthia do the same.
He drifted off to sleep with her warmth just inches away. The next time he woke it was to dim light and the splatter of rain on the window. Cynthia was curled against his side as if she had been seeking warmth. Her head lay on his bicep and an arm across his waist. If she knew would she be upset?
