Page 5 of Rough Patch

And he would have been fine if her voice hadn’t broken and if she hadn’t sniffed. Now he’d hurt her. “No. That’s not it at all. I want you. Make no mistake. I. Want. You.” And looking at her did nothing to help that particular affliction. “I just don’t want…” It sounded stupid. Certainly pregnant women could have sex. Her doctor had said so both at the office appointment and again that morning before they’d left the hospital. But Grier couldn’t wrap his head around the baby digesting… ick. New thought.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Fiona…” His skin burned again for an entirely different reason. Embarrassment. Shame. Ridiculousness.

“The doctor said sex is fine and it won’t hurt the baby.”

Times like this, he wished he had a dad to talk to about this kind of thing. He couldn’t imagine broaching this subject with anyone else. “Don’t you think we should talk about the FBI thing?”

“We will. In depth. Later. Right now, I want to talk about this.”

She had a determined glow in her eyes, and he had to look away. And no damned way were they discussing his little hang-up. Nine months wasn’t that long to go without sliding his dick into her, without feeling her mouth on his skin, without… Fiona. Fuck. He’d be lucky to last nine minutes. He scooted a few more inches away.

“You just got out of the hospital. Don’t you think we should take it easy?” He said a silent prayer she would let it go, just take his totally reasonable explanation, and drop this whole subject.

“I’m trying to make it easy.” She sat up long enough to pull him down beside her again. Her lips were firm and her tongue determined, but he kept his mouth closed. She jerked back and rolled away. “Goddammit, Grier.”

And he should have said something, soothed whatever thoughts—misguided and wrong as they were—from her mind, but he couldn’t explain. Didn’t even know how to put words to his fucked-up thoughts. He slid one arm under her head and the other around her waist then pulled her back against him.

“What are you doing?” But she didn’t wiggle away or push him to his own side of the bed. She actually moved closer.

“I want to take a middle of the day nap with my wife, and I want to hold her while I sleep.” When she sat up to adjust his arm under her head then laid down again, he smiled. “And don’t worry about your snoring. It won’t bother me at all.”

She kissed the inside of his wrist. “Then I won’t let yours bother me.”

Even if it was only for this one minute or for the hour or so he planned to nap, it would be one of those perfect memories he etched into his mind that would get him through after he lost her.

Fiona stretched her arms over her head and sat up. The blanket rustled and fell to her lap. The fan whirred overhead, and the evening sunlight left a glow of orange on the white carpet in her room. Her bed, in the center of the room, creaked and shifted as she moved back into her place beside him.

They’d been through so much already. A forced marriage. Even if it was her idea, she’d forced him into it and he’d gone along… she’d yet to figure out why. Then Sedotal had tried to rape her. Even tried to kill her. Then Grier. Then the picture of Grier with the FBI and his hospital confessions. She’d always known marriage wasn’t supposed to be easy, but come on. Was it really supposed to be like this?

Grier stirred but didn’t wake, and she watched him for a minute. The twitch of his eyelids and his frown said this was not a pleasant dream he was having. His arm flexed, and she smoothed a gentle hand over his chest. He calmed and rolled toward her. When his eyes opened, he smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi.” After everything they’d done, everything they’d been through and knew about one another, Fiona was shy. She couldn’t look at him. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah.” His arms curled around her just a little tighter, and as much as she didn’t want to melt into him, her body went pliable and soft. They had so many things to talk about, so much to straighten out, but more she wanted to bask in this moment, let him hold her and pretend everything in the world wasn’t against them.

Her stomach grumbled, and she covered it with her hand. “I think the kid is hungry.”

He sat up straight, like he had a springboard attached to his back. “I’ll get us something.” He climbed out of bed and marched out of the room—a man on a mission. And if he seriously thought he was going to find much in her fridge, he was headed down a long, disappointing road.

She pulled the landline phone—an old rotary that had come with the place—off her bedside table and a menu from the drawer. The diner at the end of the block delivered and she could get “homemade” meals brought right to her door.

“We need to grocery shop.” Grier stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets, chest still bare. Good enough to eat.

“How about some delivery from Cal’s Café?” She held up the menu. “They have roast beef, burgers, spaghetti, all the best stuff.” Her mouth watered at the thought of chili-cheese fries.

“If that’s what you want.” He smiled slowly, and if she didn’t know him, she would think him timid, but he had a glimmer in his eyes, a hunger that certainly had nothing to do with food.

Maybe food could wait just a little longer. She let the blanket slip a few inches toward her waist then patted the side of the bed where he’d slept. “Come here.” She took in his every step—the long legs, bare toes, smooth, broad chest—as he closed the distance between them.

Instead of sitting behind her, he sat in front, one leg dangling off the bed and the other tucked under him—too far to touch without leaning and stretching. Was he trying to tell her something? The blanket fell a bit lower, and true to plan, his gaze rested on the curve of her breast.

He cleared his throat and took the menu. “What are you getting?”

She shuffled across the bed to sit beside him, angled her body so her nipple rubbed against his biceps. More than she wanted food, she wanted Grier. She kissed his shoulder and let her hand fall into his lap. His body stiffened, and not in the good way. “What’s the problem, Grier?”

“No problem.” The crack in his voice said otherwise.