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He shakes his head as if I’m being ridiculous.
“I’m here to help, Lance.”
“No one’s asking for it.”
He’s determined to push me away. I’m not having it. This little saga of ours has lasted long enough. I forgot how much strength I take from him. How being on the opposite of both his resistance and affection empowers me. And whether he wants to admit it or not, the draw is still there.
I can do this. I’m not giving up, not at all.
Game on, Lover.
Seeing the coast is clear behind him, I pull off my sports bra and stand there half naked as his eyes roam appreciatively down my body. I turn, glancing over my shoulder, lip caught in my teeth as I slowly peel off my sleep leggings to give him a clear view of my naked ass. Lance stands on the other side of the window, a storm brewing in his eyes as I turn, giving him a full-frontal view. I drop my grin just before I abruptly drop the shades, shutting him out.
A barely audible growl escapes him, but I hear it and feel the zing in my chest while prancing through the bedroom, wearing only a smile.
This round is mine.
“Morning,” Jack greets me from where he sits at the table.
“Morning, Jack.”
“You got a minute?”
“Of course,” I say, taking the seat at the table next to him.
“I’m sorry for
my outburst last night. It was a bad day. I’m hard to get along with lately.” He looks toward Jeannie, who sets a cup of coffee in front of me along with an antique-looking sugar and cream set. “Thank you.”
“Morning, sweetheart. I think what he’s trying to say is—”
“I can speak for myself,” he says to his wife.
“Sorry, baby,” she says, a glimmer of hurt in her eyes before it disappears.
“Come here,” he says to her, and she looks over at him, confused.
“Just a second,” he tells me, jerking in his seat. “Come here, Jeannie.” He holds out a shaky hand, and she takes it. He pulls her to him, and I can hear his whisper. “I love you.”
The sentiment seems to take her by surprise. “I know you do.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Jack—”
He nudges her. “Tell me you forgive me.”
“Nothing to forgive.”
He hugs her tight to him, and she pulls away with tears shimmering in her eyes. “So sentimental this morning. I’ll get your breakfast.” I see then that Lance is Jack’s apple. And Jack’s just as much of a gentle soul with the same hair-trigger temper.
“I haven’t been myself in quite some time. My boys are suffering, and they don’t deserve it.”
“No one is suffering,” Jeannie chimes in, cracking an egg on the side of a cast-iron pan.
“Enough, baby. Let me talk to Harper.”
“Fine.”
