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“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said. “I just wanted to check on you. Doing okay?”
Concern carved a furrow between her brows, and he didn’t like being the cause of that line. “Fine, darlin’. Thanks.”
“Okay. I’m going to sit with your mom for a little while longer. She’s pretty upset.” She smiled and bent to kiss the top of his head, as if they were a real married couple in the middle of for better or worse.
His vision tunneled as future and present collided, and a radical idea popped fully formed into his head. An idea as provocative and intriguing as it was dangerous. One that would pose the greatest challenge thus far in his relationship with Cia.
What if they didn’t get divorced?
Ten
A noise woke Cia in the middle of the night. No, not a noise, but a sixth sense of the atmosphere changing. Lucas. He’d finally pried himself loose from his laptop and paperwork. His study might be in the same house, but it might as well have been in Timbuktu for all she’d seen of him lately.
She glanced at the clock—1:00 a.m.—as he slid into bed and gathered her up against his warm, scrumptious body, spooning them together.
“Sorry,” he whispered. “Time got away from me.”
“It’s okay. You’re earlier than last night.” And the night before that and the night before that. In the weeks since his grandfather’s death and Matthew’s disappearance, he’d been tense and preoccupied, but closemouthed about it other than to say he’d been working a lot.
She rolled in his arms and glued her body to his, silently offering whatever he wanted to take, because he’d done the same when she’d needed it. Sometimes he held her close and dropped into a dead sleep. Sometimes he was keyed up and wanted to talk. Sometimes he watched TV, which she always left on for him despite her hatred of the pulsing lights.
Tonight, he flipped off the TV and covered her mouth in a searing kiss. His hands skimmed down her back to cup her bottom, sliding into the places craving his careful attention.
Oh, yes. Her favorite of the late-night options—slow, achingly sensual and delicious. The kind of night where they whispered to each other in the dark and pleasured by touch, lost inside a world where nothing else existed.
In the dark, she didn’t have to worry about what hidden depths of the heart might spring into her eyes. No agonizing over whether something similar crept through his eyes, as well. Or didn’t. It was better to leave certain aspects of their relationship unexamined.
Of course, ignoring the facts didn’t magically rearrange them into a new version of truth.
The truth was still the truth.
This was more than just sex.
Sex could be fun, but it didn’t erase the significance of doing it with Lucas. Not some random, fun guy. Lucas, who got out of the way and let her make her own choices. Lucas, who’d proven over and over he was more than enough man to handle whatever she threw at him.
When the earth stopped quaking, Lucas bound her to him in a tight tangle of limbs. He murmured, “Mi amante,” and fell asleep with his lips against her temple.
When had he managed to squeeze in a Spanish lesson? His layers were endless and each one weighed a little more, sinking a little deeper into her soul.
This thing with Lucas was spiraling out of control. They were still getting a divorce, and all this significance—and how much she wanted it—freaked her out. It would be smart to back off now, so it wouldn’t be so hard later.
In the morning, she woke sinfully late, still nestled in Lucas’s arms for the first time in a long time, and she didn’t hesitate to test how heavily he slept. The exact opposite of backing off. Stupid was her middle name lately.
“Mmm. Darlin’, that is indeed a nice way to wake up,” he murmured, after she’d sated them both.
“Stay in bed tomorrow morning, and you might get a repeat.” She flipped on the TV and settled in to watch the weather while contemplating breakfast. “Can you eat or are you going to go drown yourself in listings right away?”
“I’m taking a little personal time this morning. I deserve it, don’t you think?”
“Yeah. Does that mean I’m breakfast?”
He laughed. “Yep. Then I want to take you somewhere.”
But he wouldn’t tell her where until after they’d eaten, showered and dressed, and he’d driven to a run-down building miles off the freeway in an older part of town full of senior centers and assisted-living facilities.
“This just came up for sale,” he told her as he helped her out of the car and led her to the edge of the parking lot. “It’s an old hotel.”
