“You better call reception and let them know.” My lips turn up in a grin as she picks up the phone.
8
PAIGE
The pancakes are lukewarm warm by the time we extract ourselves from each other and remember they’re there.
My body hums from the way Sergeant Gray worked me into a fever. I never knew sex with a stranger could be so satisfying, and it makes me wonder why I waited so long. Although I wonder if it would have been as good with anyone else.
I slide a tray of pancakes across the bed to where Sergeant Gray sits with the other bathrobe wrapped around him. The fluffy white towel highlights his tanned complexion.
My stomach rumbles at the first bite of my pancakes, and I shovel another forkful into my mouth.
“Mmmm.” A moan escapes my lips as maple syrup dribbles down my chin.
I scoop it up with my finger, and Sergeant Gray chuckles, watching me.
“These are good.” He closes his eyes as he finishes his mouthful. “They remind me of my mother.”
“Are her pancakes as good as these?” I spear more pancake with my fork and scoop it through the maple syrup, making it nice and sticky before shoving it in my mouth.
“They were.”
There’s a sadness in his tone that makes me glance up. He’s leaning against the headboard with his eyes still closed and a pained expression.
I note the use of the past tense and rest my fork on the plate. My hand reaches for him, and I bring my hand down on his leg as he opens his eyes.
Sergeant Gray’s eyes find mine. His sadness reflects my own, and I know without asking that he’s lost his mother, too.
Unable to stop it, pain flares in my chest, and I suck in a breath as tears sting my eyes. Though I’m supposed to be the one comforting him, he puts aside his tray of half-eaten pancakes, and without speaking, he moves my plate aside and wraps his strong arms around me.
“Hey, are you okay?”
I rub my chest, trying to get this ache out of my heart as he pulls me into his chest and rubs my back in slow circles. In this stranger’s arms, I let the pain well up in my chest until it explodes in loud sobs that wrack my body.
He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t ask questions. He just holds me as I fall apart against him.
I sob in his arms until my body feels empty. My chest is hollow, and there’s nothing left inside me to come out. Only then do my tears stop, and my body stops shaking. My sobs turn to whimpers, and I slowly become aware of the man I’m leaning on. Whose firm chest has propped me up while I fell apart. His heartbeat is steady under my head, and his hand keeps up a circular rhythm on my back.
A flush of embarrassment sweeps up my neck, and I sit up and bury my face in the bathrobe, wiping the tears off my face.
He still doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. He thought he was getting another day of sex, and instead, I’m having a meltdown. He must be itching to leave.
“I’ll get you some water.”
He goes to the bathroom, leaving me time to wipe the tears off my face and pull my robe tight around me.
I expect Gray to pull his clothes on and leave. But instead, he sits next to me and hands me the water.
“You want to talk about it?”
I shake my head and take the water from him. The cool liquid is a balm to my dry throat.
His hand lands on my shoulder, and the warmth of a human touch eases the ache a little. I swallow and say the words I haven’t been able to say since I found out two days ago.
“My mom died.”
He sucks in a breath, and the pressure on my shoulder increases. He takes the water glass from me and puts it on the bedside table before enveloping me in his arms.
