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Sam cast her a sideways glance and nodded. He offered no further explanation and Tara wanted to inch closer to see what he had.
He grabbed a pair of boxer briefs and slipped them on under the towel, letting the material drop to the floor.
Tara’s breath caught in her throat. She wasn’t sure what was worse—the towel barely secured with a knot or the body-hugging boxers. Either way she was offered a delicious sight of his bare chest and firm thighs. The tattoos on his chest she was quite familiar with. They ran across his chest, across his shoulders and down to his biceps. Every tattoo he had told a story. Which made her wonder exactly why he’d gotten that new one. Because the more she studied it, the more she realized it was a door. Just that. An open door with some shading and other details she couldn’t make out without getting too close.
“You look exhausted,” Sam told her as he remained across the room.
Tara smoothed her hair away from her face and laughed. “I am exhausted. Thanks for pointing it out.”
Sam shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. I meant you look like you’re ready to fall over, so why don’t you get into bed?”
Tara’s eyes went to the bed, then to her husband.
“We are both adults, Tara. I think we can be next to each other and sleep, don’t you?”
No doubt she could lie in bed with her husband, but sleeping would be a whole different matter. Tara went to her own suitcase and pulled out her nightgown...the ugly old cotton one he’d always hated. No way had she thought of packing anything remotely sexy or revealing.
The hideous gown had a hole in the hem and the image of a hippo on the front. Sam had taken Marley Christmas shopping their first year together and that was what Marley had chosen. So, with Sam gone, Tara had chosen to wear this gown to pieces.
She clutched the material against her chest as she turned toward the bathroom to wash up and change. Sam never moved, but his eyes remained on her. The intensity of his gaze felt like a caress when he looked at her.
She wasn’t naive and she was extremely familiar with every single one of those looks. He wanted her and he wasn’t trying to hide it.
Tara stilled, wondering if he was going to say anything. He simply remained by the bed, his hands propped on his narrow hips, as if waiting for her to make a move.
At this point there was nothing more she wanted than to be comforted. To lose herself in a few moments of passion. But was that smart? What impact would intimacy have in the long run of this relationship? Because even though they were getting a divorce, they still had a relationship.
Pulling in a deep breath, Tara walked into the master bathroom and closed the door. She sat her nightgown on the edge of the vanity and rested her palms on the edge. Dropping her head, Tara let tears fill her eyes.
In moments, she was going to be curled up next to her husband. She wouldn’t sleep. She’d lie there and analyze each and every one of her feelings. Come sunup she probably still wouldn’t be any closer to figuring out how the hell to keep him at a good emotional distance.
Did this sleeping arrangement affect him at all? Did he have any emotions other than sexual desire? Because she had so many she couldn’t even categorize them.
A sob escaped her before she could stop it. Tara lifted her hand to her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut. Tears slipped out one by one, dropping onto her hand. She needed to compose herself, to gather her thoughts, to pray for the willpower to face that bed and Sam.
The door opened then shut. Strong arms enveloped her. She found herself resting against Sam’s strong, bare chest. She didn’t fight the comfort. If he wanted to console her, she was going to let him because right now she needed someone, and honestly, this man knew her better than anyone.
With his arms crossed over her chest, Sam rested his cheek against the top of her head. Tara risked opening her eyes and glancing at the reflection in the mirror. She thought for sure she would meet his gaze, but his eyes were shut as he held her, with worry lines etched across his forehead and between his brows.
Maybe he was more affected by all of this than she’d originally thought.
Tara reached up and rested her hands on his forearms. Maybe, for this moment, they needed to console each other instead of fighting the emotions they were both concealing.
