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They’d never be in London together again. The city that had originally brought them together.
She inhaled the unbuttoned blue oxford shirt she wore over her bra and panties. The same shirt he’d been wearing before they’d stripped each other naked and made love.
“I’m officially packed and ready for our early morning departure. I’m surprised you’re not asleep.” Wes joined her at the window.
“Committing this remarkable view to memory.” Bree fiddled with the collar of the shirt, hoping Wesley hadn’t caught her sniffing its scent moments earlier. They’d shared so many special moments in London. Moments in which they’d grown closer.
London was now inextricably linked with Wesley Adams.
“It isn’t as if you’ll never return. To London, I mean.” His gaze drifted from hers. They were silent for a moment before he shifted the topic. “I’ve obviously convinced you of the many virtues of ‘In a Sentimental Mood.’”
“It’s brilliant. Evocative of so many powerful emotions.”
“Come here.” Wes moved toward the center of the room and extended his hand. When Bree joined him, he took her hand in his and looped an arm around her waist. “Dance with me.”
His soft, intimate plea filled her body with heat. A charge of electricity ran along her skin.
She swayed with Wes, her ear pressed to his chest, listening to the thud of his heart as it beat against his strong chest. Her eyes drifted closed for a moment as they swayed and turned about the room ever so slightly with each step.
His chin propped on her head, Wes cradled her closer, neither of them speaking.
The connection they shared was more than sex. More than friendship.
So why was Wes so determined to walk away from the very thing they both seemed to want and need? What was Wes really afraid of?
Bree wanted to ask, but the words wouldn’t come. To quiet the pervasive questions that danced in her head, she shifted attention back to the song.
“You said Miles Davis and Thelonious Monk are your favorite jazz artists. So why is a collaboration between Ellington and Coltrane your favorite jazz song?”
“Aside from the brilliance of the collaboration and the complexity of the piece?” Wes’s voice rumbled against her ear. “Got my own sentimental connection to the song.” He paused so long it seemed he’d decided against divulging it. “My favorite memory of my parents is them dancing to this song.”
“That’s beautiful.” Something about his admission made tears instantly well in her eyes. Bree wasn’t sure if she was moved by the poignancy of the story, or by his willingness to share it with her.
“Your mom showed me some old family pictures.” Bree hadn’t mentioned it before because Wes wasn’t inclined to reminisce about his dad. But tonight, he seemed open to it. “Lena is gorgeous now, but she looked like a glamorous movie star in all her photos. And you guys all look so happy.”
“In the beginning, my mom was, and I think my dad wanted to be. But his passion was music, being on the road traveling. Maybe he really did love us. But he loved music and life on the road more.”
“Wes, I’m sorry.” She squeezed him tightly. Bree understood the pain and rejection Wes felt. It was a pain that could only truly be understood by someone who’d endured it, too.
“Don’t be.” Wes slid his hands beneath the shirt she wore. His rough hands glided along her warm skin. He traced a scar from an old surgery with his thumb.
Bree tensed, self-conscious about the ugly scar. She’d had it incorporated into the tattoo on her side to camouflage the imperfection.
“Does it hurt?” His soft, warm gaze met hers.
“No, and neither does this one.” She slipped the shirt from her shoulder enough to reveal a scar that remained from her shoulder surgery a few years ago. “But they’ve ruined my bikini game.” She tried to keep her breathing even as she maintained his heated gaze.
“I assure you that nothing could possibly mar the sight of you in a bikini. Besides, with a one-piece like the one you wore in my hot tub that day…who needs one?” He gripped her bare waist and pulled her closer to him again as he leaned in and whispered in her ear. “By the way, that swimsuit…you weren’t playing fair. A man with less willpower would’ve caved.”
