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Rafe’s jaw clenched. “Over what?”
“Life,” Tad said with a sigh.
Rafe moved past him and found Jenna curled on the sofa, hugging a pillow. She wore a sexy black nightie, but Rafe didn’t read anything into her being dressed so provocatively in Tad’s hotel room. He knew Tad was gay. And the fact that the other man had called him when Jenna was clearly in a rock-bottom state told him her best friend was no threat to Rafe.
He carefully scooped Jenna into his arms. She stirred and snuggled against him. Tad directed him to the adjoining suite and then shut both doors behind them, giving them privacy. Rafe put her to bed, stripped down to his briefs and slipped under the covers next to her. He tried not to disturb her too much, and she fell back to sleep immediately, with his arms around her.
She woke around four a.m. He’d not drifted off once, just stared at the alarm clock on the nightstand while he held her, listening to her steady breathing. Jenna moved against him, her backside rubbing his front. He stifled a groan as his cock sprang to life.
After stretching, she rolled over and faced him. Some of the windows in the corner suite had curtains that were partially open, letting in the moonlight. Silver rays flitted over the bed, gently illuminating Jenna’s pale-green irises. Though the whites were bloodshot.
He grimaced. “Some night you had.”
“Oh, God.” She buried her face in the pillow.
“Aspirin?”
“In my makeup bag on the vanity,” she said, her voice muffled. “Mouthwash too, please.”
He slid from the bed and retrieved the items. Then he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and returned to her side. He helped her sit up and she swallowed down the aspirin.
“That’ll minimize the hangover,” he said. Shifting in the bed, he set the bottle on the nightstand and then turned back to her. “Martinis, sweetheart?”
She swished mouthwash before spitting it into the glass he’d offered. Rolling her eyes and plopping back against the mound of pillows, she said, “Please don’t remind me. I can’t believe I haven’t heaved all over the place. I know two—without the additional punch—is my limit.” She suddenly sat bolt upright, winced from the pain that obviously shot through her brain and pinned him with a look. “Holy shit! Tell me I didn’t heave all over the place!”
“You’re good, baby.”
“Thank God.” She sighed. “Apparently, Tad thought I needed a little extra zap this evening.”
Rafe slipped under the covers again. “What happened tonight?”
Her body melded to his as he tucked her against his side and she rested her head on his shoulder.
In a raspy voice, likely due to her crying, she said, “I hurt Tad’s feelings at dinner. I mentioned Linney, and he didn’t know I had a sister.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah.” She was quiet a few seconds, then said, “I never wanted to talk about her for a reason, Rafe. But Tad was so devastated I’d kept this from him all these years. Compounded with my earlier admission that you’d been the one to divorce me, and he—”
“Whoa.” His hand stopped stroking her silky hair. “First of all, he didn’t know I was the one to file?”
“No. I never mentioned it. I just signed the papers, told Tad it was over and that was that.”
Rafe let out a hiss of breath.
She lifted her head and gazed at him. “Not in reality, Rafe. But as far as Tad was concerned, I didn’t feel the need to belabor the point that I sucked at being a wife.”
“Hey, wait a minute.” He shifted in the bed until she was on her back and he was staring down at her. “I never once said that.”
“You didn’t have to. And please…” Her bottom lip quivered. “Don’t make me cry again. I can’t take more emotional turmoil this evening. I’ve hit my threshold for, like, the decade.”
He flopped onto his back. “You were a great wife, Jen. Fun and flirty. Sexy. Unbelievable in the sack.”
She let out a harsh laugh that held no humor. “That a ‘great wife’ does not make.”
“It was more than that, and you know it. The only problem we ever had, sweetheart, was that you couldn’t adjust to the life I led. So you kept running from it.”
“Rafe.” She propped her forearms on his chest.
