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“About what?”
He shrugged, his expression neutral. “Mostly about having a baby.”
“You didn’t want one?”
“No, actually, I was the one who did.”
She pictured Matt holding a tiny baby in his gorgeously muscled, tattooed arms, and that was it. She’d never be able to have kids now, because her ovaries had just exploded.
Matt continued. “When we got married, I thought we were on the same page about kids, but every time I brought it up, she wanted to wait another year, another six months, and eventually every discussion about a baby turned into a fight. We were both unhappy, and then she had an affair. When I found out, I left.”
Her brain followed her ovaries, exploding with confusion. She frowned, trying to figure out what to say.
“Ellie? You okay? You have a weird look on your face.”
“Sorry. I’m just trying to picture the kind of woman who would cheat on you, who wouldn’t want to have your baby? I . . . just can’t. Like, it’s not computing for me.”
His features softened, and a sadness crept in around his eyes. “Jesus Christ, Ellie. You’re killing me.”
It was her turn to shrug. “I’m just being honest.”
“I know. That’s what’s killing me.” He turned away and pushed up off the bed, carrying his coffee with him to the window. “Fuck.” His curse left a fog on the frosty windowpane that faded quickly.
She followed him, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Did I say something wrong?”
He set his coffee down on a nearby table, slipped an arm around her and pulled her into him, kissing her temple. “No. That’s the problem. Everything that comes out of your mouth is right.” He dipped his head and kissed her, a deep, slow kiss that sent her heart racing and tightened her chest until she felt lightheaded. He broke the kiss, his breathing ragged. “Jesus, Ellie. What are we going to do?”
Her heart lurched painfully against her ribs, because hell if she knew. It seemed impossible that less than twenty-four hours ago, he’d been a stranger to her. Equally impossible was the idea that after tomorrow morning, she’d never see him again.
* * *
Three orgasms, two hours and one delicious breakfast later, Matt and Ellie lounged in the bathtub together, surrounded by lavender-scented bubbles and drinking a fresh bottle of champagne, but whether the champagne was in celebration of this crazy thing they’d found together or to try to dull the pain of their impending separation, Matt wasn’t sure. With Ellie’s back nestled against his chest, he trailed his fingers down her soapy arm, pressing his nose to her hair and inhaling deeply. The snow was still falling outside, although lighter than it had been earlier in the morning. After they’d each checked in with Luke and Lauren, they’d fallen back into bed, unable to get enough of each other, especially knowing that the clock was ticking. They’d been granted a grace day, and Matt already felt panicked at how quickly it was going by.
“Tell me more about your job. You said that you run a website?” They hadn’t talked much about their professional lives last night, avoiding the topic of Seattle.
She nodded. “It’s called Crossing the Streams, and I started it about six years ago. We review mostly sci-fi and fantasy movies, books, video games, and comic books, and it’s turned into kind of a geek-girl haven. Women who like this stuff are traditionally pretty unwelcome in male-dominated forums, so when I started it, one of the goals was to write about this stuff from a female fan’s perspective. I create a lot of the content for it, but the site’s making enough money now that I can hire freelance writers from time to time, which frees me up to focus on courting new sponsors, writing longer essay-style pieces, and working on the technical side of things.”
“Crossing the Streams as in Ghostbusters?”
“You got it. My all-time favorite movie.”
“Mine too.”
She craned her neck to look at him, a skeptical look on her face. “Really?”
He nodded. “Really. It’s the perfect movie. It’s funny, scary, smart, suspenseful. Good action. It has everything.”
“Exactly!” She raised her hands enthusiastically, spraying his chest with bubbles. “Oops. Sorry.”
He laughed. “I’ve been slimed.” He pulled her against him and kissed her, slowly, savoring every slide of her tongue against his, every tiny sigh escaping from between her lips. She shifted against him, and even though he was starting to lose track of how many times he’d come over the past twelve hours, he was hard again.
Goddammit. Why did she have to be just so absolutely fucking perfect? Pretty and smart and sweet and funny and adorable and just . . . everything. He’d known her for less than twenty-four hours, and it felt like he’d known her for years. Like she was made for him.
He wrapped her in a towel, carried her to the bed, and made love to her again just like he’d kissed her: slowly and savoring every single touch, every single sound while their time ticked down far too quickly.
Afterward, he slipped his arms around her, nestling her against him, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He held still as Ellie took a long, deep breath that came out as a choked shudder. He felt as though his chest was cracking open, and he kissed the top of her head.
“I know,” he whispered.
