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Her urge to be independent was a constant refrain she’d grown tired of thinking about. Her whole life she’d been fighting for every inch of independence gained. By the time she was married to Jayson, a man who’d championed her more than any before him, she’d expected to have plenty of that much-needed space.
She pulled her lips from his. How could she expect space from a man who was constantly, and welcomingly, invading hers?
He was breathing heavy, his pupils wide and black. His eyes were her favorite shade of smoky blue. Judging by the state of his pants, he was as turned on as she was.
“We can’t,” she managed, half expecting him to lean in and prove her wrong.
He didn’t.
“You always do this,” he said instead. His nostrils flared.
“Do what?” Her blood pressure spiked at his tone, and at losing out on what they both wanted, and she didn’t know what he was talking about yet.
“Retreat,” he answered. “I don’t remember you giving up this easily when we were married.”
The reminder that they used to stand in this very room and argue about who knew what was a shadow she couldn’t escape.
“Lucky for us we don’t have to dig in our heels any longer, Cooper.” She stuffed two twenty-dollar bills, now sweaty in her palm, into his shirt. “Thank you for dinner.”
“What the hell did you call me?”
Since he’d just challenged her on retreating, she decided to stay for this battle.
“Everyone calls you Coop or Cooper,” she said with a shrug.
His hulking dark presence was less intimidating than it was downright hot. “You’re not everyone.”
Like a stripper in reverse, he pulled the money from his shirt and dropped it onto the coffee table. “I don’t need more reminders that you don’t need me, Gia. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”
She was frozen in shock until he turned to leave.
“You are so arrogant!” she called after him. “You only care about getting your way, don’t you?”
“Getting my way? You think I’d rather leave than give you an orgasm with this mouth?”
He gestured to his mouth, tempting her since she still felt the imprint of his kiss on her lips. Her knees literally went gooey. Jayson was good with his hands but he was very, very good with his mouth.
“I can take care of myself.” But her response was automated. She’d been trying to convince everyone in her life of that for so long, the words came out robotic.
“No, you don’t need anyone, do you? Least of all me.” His tone was angry, but there was a dose of pain in those words—one she didn’t like hearing. Part of her wanted to correct him. To tell him that she’d missed him when they’d split. That his presence in and around the house was what had made this pile of bricks and siding feel like home.
She’d missed him, but she hadn’t known how to find her way back to him, either. Not when she’d said so many hurtful things she couldn’t take back. She hadn’t wanted Jayson’s protection and service. She’d wanted to stand as his equal. To experience life with him, not apart from him.
But it was too late for those sorts of observations.
Their standoff lasted several seconds. He stood, silently daring her to give in to her wants—her need. But they’d already given in to the temptation and sex hadn’t solved anything. Worse, their at-work conversations had been laced with hidden innuendo. Her mind wasn’t on her work, it was in his pants. And as long as that was the case, they’d never fix this damned update.
“We have an important job to do,” she said, leaning on her old friend, Pragmatism. “We shouldn’t let ourselves be distracted.”
“Yeah,” was all he said before he gathered his bag and walked out of the room. She stood and listened to him go, closing her eyes against the finality of the front door quietly shutting.
