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Nine
Felicity floated in a haze of dazed uncertainty. She had expected sex with Wynn to be fun. But fun was much too bland a word for what had transpired in this bed.
She might have been the one to ask, but Wynn had taken control and sent them both reeling into a place that was new. Adult pleasure. Based on a past relationship, but completely and utterly in the moment.
Breathless, and with her heart still racing, she inhaled carefully, pausing to enjoy the sensation of Wynn’s big body pressing hers into the mattress. But soon, her smug happiness faded. He was so still, she began to worry.
She poked his tanned shoulder with one finger. “Are you asleep?” she whispered.
After several seconds of silence, Wynn lifted his head, gave her a wry look and kissed her nose. “No.”
His dark shiny hair was rumpled. His skin was damp. He looked like the lead in an erotic movie.
“That was phenomenal,” she said. “Admit it.”
“Thank you.” His lips twitched before he laid his head back on her shoulder. “I couldn’t breathe there at the end,” he complained.
“Not my problem. And besides, the phenomenal part was us,” she clarified. “You can’t take all the credit.”
She felt awkward now, totally unprepared to exit the current situation. Where was a crying baby when you needed one?
Wynn yawned. “This parenting thing is hard.”
Felicity snickered. “That was sex, not parenting.”
“You know what I mean.” He sat up and stretched, seemingly unconcerned by his nudity. When she turned on her side and drew the sheet to her chin, he slapped her bottom. “Playtime is over, Fliss.”
She sighed. “I know. We’ve both got a million things to do.”
His jaw firmed, and his eyes darkened. “Regrets?”
“No. You?”
He shook his slowly. “I think this was bound to happen sooner or later. I suppose the question now is what to do about it.”
When he walked into the bathroom, Felicity scooped up her clothes and fled. She couldn’t face him again. Not right now. Not when she didn’t have an answer to his oblique question.
After a quick shower, she picked out black pants and a crimson silk shirt. It was an outfit that bolstered her confidence. She needed that.
When she ventured out again, she heard Wynn in the nursery. Ayla had awakened from her long nap in a jolly mood.
Felicity decided she could use the baby to break the ice. So she stopped in the doorway and smiled. “Sounds like you two are having fun.”
Wynn glanced over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know we were dressing for lunch,” he said.
“Very funny.” Wynn was wearing the pair of sleep pants and T-shirt from last night. He must have heard the baby stir and hadn’t had time to get fully dressed.
“I need to go out for a little while,” she said. “Will you be okay with her? I won’t be gone more than three hours.”
Wynn scowled. “More socializing?”
“No. I need to buy a dress for the memorial service. Florida will be warm. I don’t have anything suitable.”
Wynn’s expression softened. He propped Ayla on his shoulder. “I have a better idea. Let me call my friend Janeen.”
“Janeen?”
“She’s a department head at Bloomingdale’s. I’ll tell her what we need, and she’ll send over a collection of dresses. You can try them on here. We’ll send back whatever you don’t want.”
