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She so needed a day without pressure.
She didn’t expect a relationship to bloom from a yacht-date with Elias Hill. But if the unthinkable happened and Jayson won this bet, she could lean on the excuse of dating Elias and avoid going to bed with Jayson. That was cheating, she supposed, but didn’t they say that all was fair in love and war?
Yawning, she gathered her things and headed inside. She was done for today and looking forward to curling up with a cup of tea and a good book. It was time for Jayson to head home, too. He’d been tireless, but he had to give up at some point.
Plus, she needed to tell him about the date—which he wouldn’t like—and let him know that the house was off-limits while she was away. They could resume their investigation on Monday when they were both working.
But halfway through those thoughts, she found her ex-husband, the heels of his sneakers resting on the arm of the sofa, fast asleep.
“Jayson.” A familiar frustration bubbled up at the sight of him sprawled out, his shoes on the furniture. Irritation was easy to come by when she spotted his empty coffee cup and a plate with crumbs on it left on the table.
And yet, she didn’t have the heart to wake him. He had to be exhausted. He’d admitted earlier today that he hadn’t slept well this week, too worried about this update fix. There was something so vulnerable about the way his long eyelashes shadowed his cheeks. And something so animal about the way his dark scruff decorated his jaw. She remembered the last time he’d kissed her, his whiskers abrading her chin. How hard it’d been to stop kissing him. To put up her guard and turn him down when her body had begged her to continue...
She tossed a blanket over him rather than wake him, reassured that the date tomorrow was exactly what she needed. There was a time when she would’ve kissed the corner of Jayson’s mouth and told him it was time for bed. A time when he would’ve pulled her down into his arms and said, “Lie with me a while.”
No longer.
Their passion and sexual need for each other was alive and well, but their ability to be vulnerable had vanished. She mourned that briefly as she flipped off the lamp. But by the time she locked the front and back doors and headed upstairs to bed, she justified that her mourning period was well and truly over.
Already she could feel herself softening toward her ex-husband, those old feelings lurking around in her head and, if she wasn’t careful, in her heart.
That was one risk she wasn’t willing to take.
