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“There was only Mark. That one time.” She couldn’t imagine that any of this was helping her cause. If he’d been turned on, been picturing her as this sexy woman who’d fulfill his needs, she was disappointing him.
“Because you were grieving.”
She didn’t want to think about Mark. About that night. And how it might, just a little, mirror this one. “Sometimes you need the ultimate human contact, you know? You need to connect. To feel that you’re fully alive and part of something outside your own small world.”
He lifted his glass again. Drank. Watched her the whole time.
“And that’s what you need now? This ultimate human contact?”
She could nod. See where it led them. “I need you to hold me, Johnny.” She let the truth fall out. “When you kissed me today, it was like...I knew I could hang on for another hour. I’ve got eight hours of darkness to get through here. I don’t want to do it alone.”
“So I’ll hold you. All night long. You don’t have to have sex to get my arms around you, hon. You only had to ask.”
Hon.
The word sent a shiver of...something even better than his kiss arcing through her. She wanted to be his hon.
“And if I want to make love with you?”
“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it. If we come to it.”
He stood. Held out his hand. Tabitha took it. Pretty sure they were about to come to that bridge.
* * *
What should he wear? Used to sleeping in the buff, or on rare occasions his boxers, Johnny wasn’t sure it was a good idea to climb into bed with Tabitha with just a layer of thin fabric between his overactive body part and her...body.
He could always lie there in his jeans. It wasn’t as though he’d be getting much sleep. Not in bed with Tabitha. The plan was to help her through the night. To help her get the rest she needed. Whether the judge’s decision came in the morning and whether it was in their favor or not, she had a tough day ahead of her tomorrow.
Should he take her to her room? Or his? One way or the other, he expected to be up most of the night and might need his tablet...or other stuff...so he started toward his room with Tabitha following. Then he thought about the fact that she might be more comfortable in hers.
“Is this okay?” he asked. She was the one who’d be asleep all night. Wouldn’t even know what room she was in.
“Of course,” she told him. He felt her shiver. He wished it was with anticipation and knew he needed to get her under the covers and warm her up.
“We can turn the TV on,” he said before they’d reached his door. She’d said once that she fell asleep to the TV most nights. She’d mentioned it months ago, when they’d been talking about a show they’d both watched late the night before.
“Okay.”
Good, then. They had a plan.
* * *
“Aren’t you getting under the covers with me?” Tabitha peered at him from his bed. He was standing by it, TV remote in hand. She’d climbed in, sweats and all, when he’d pulled back the covers.
“Yeah, sure,” he said. There was no way he could lie under that blanket with jeans on all night long. He’d bake them both out of the bed.
But jeans would keep his penis contained, no matter what it decided to do.
He found a movie for them to watch—a comedy with very little romance—and tossed the remote on the bed.
“You want your wine?” It might help her fall asleep faster.
“Okay.”
He didn’t run from the room, but he would’ve liked to. He brought their glasses and the bottle, too. For her. All for her. Until she passed out on him.
She was propped up on pillows when he got back. Two more were arranged beside her. Close beside her. Made sense, since the idea was for him to hold her. A difficult thing to do from the far side of the bed. Johnny handed Tabitha her glass. Set his and the bottle down on the nightstand. Turned off the lights.
