fire have to be now? Couldn’t it have been a year from now?”
“It’s not personal, Jess. It’s just one of those things.”
“It feels personal. The fire hates me.” She was starting to drift. “Nicole still hates me, but Claire’s making her try out some of my ideas.”
“Your sister doesn’t hate you.”
“Ha! A lot you know. You still hate me, too.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You’re mad. I can tell you’re mad. But you’re doing better with Gabe and he matters a lot more than me.”
“Because you love him?”
“He’s my son. I would die for him.”
The car stopped. Jesse opened her eyes to see if they were already at Matt’s place, but they were just stopped at a light. She glanced at him and found him staring at her.
“What?” she asked.
“You’re not what I expected.”
“You didn’t expect me at all. I’m a surprise.”
“In more ways than you know.”
JESSE MUST HAVE FALLEN asleep because the next thing she knew, Matt was helping her out of the car. She managed to get through the house and upstairs. He helped her into a huge bedroom she would guess was the master. There was a massive bed and beautiful, custom furniture. At least she guessed it was custom based on how perfectly it fit into the space.
He tugged her hand and led her into what was supposed to be a bathroom, but needed a different word to describe it. There was a fireplace and a flat-screen TV over a jetted tub that could probably fit five. The shower was frameless with plenty of heads and jets and who knew what else.
“You awake enough to manage?” he asked as he set several very fluffy towels onto the marble counter. “I don’t want you drowning in my shower.”
“Me, either.” She eyed the controls. “How do I turn it on?”
He went to a control panel on the wall. “Twenty minutes enough?” he asked.
Shock made her feel more awake. “You have a remote control
“There’s a control panel inside as well. This sets the temperature, the water pressure, how many of the jets are to be used. I’m giving you the works. You’ll like it.”
He disappeared into a stadium-size closet and returned with a terry-cloth robe. “Leave your clothes here. I’ll toss them in the wash while you’re sleeping.”
“Such service,” she said lightly, trying not to think about being naked in Matt’s house or who else had worn this robe. Did he have it laundered after each use or were there Electra cooties still on it? She decided it would be better not to ask.
He pushed a button and the water in the shower came on. “Just leave your clothes next to the towels,” he told her and left.
She stared after him. There was a time he wouldn’t have left. When him joining her in the shower wouldn’t have been a question. Of course, that had been a long time ago, when they’d both still been in love and all that mattered had been being together.
She missed that. She missed a lot of things.
Jesse stripped quickly, left her clothes where he’d said and stepped into the shower. The water was hot and steamy and seemed to come from every direction. Sore muscles were soothed, smoke washed away. It was a little piece of heaven.
Fifteen minutes later she was clean and smelled like his shampoo and soap. She managed to turn off the water before stepping out and grabbing one of the towels. Her clothes were gone, which meant Matt had been in the bathroom while she’d been in the shower. Had he looked? Or maybe he hadn’t even been tempted. She hated that she even wondered.
It had been a long time for her…five years to be exact, but that wasn’t the reason she kept thinking about them being together. It was more because Matt had been the only one to touch her soul. She’d loved him and that had made all the difference.
She finished drying off and picked up the robe. It smelled of fabric softener rather than someone else, which was good. She didn’t want to think about the other women in his life.
She put on the robe and used the blow-dryer to get most of the wetness out of her hair, then walked into the bedroom from the bathroom. Matt did the same from the hallway, carrying a mug of coffee. He handed it to her.
“I put your clothes in the wash,” he told her.
“I saw that. Thanks.” She sipped the coffee, feeling awkward and exhausted. The night was a blur of fire and smoke and shattered dreams. Except maybe she still had a shot at her dreams. Maybe it was all going to work out.
There was so much to do, so much to think about. She set down the coffee and rubbed her temples. “I think my head is going to explode.”
“You don’t want that,” Matt said. He guided her to the bed. “Come on. Try to sleep. At least for a couple of hours.”
He pulled back the covers. The sheets were beige and striped and looked expensive. Had he bought them himself? Did he have a designer or did one of his women take care of that sort of thing. Maybe the nice secretary she’d met at his office helped out. And how many women had there been in the past five years? A few? Many? Herds?
How could he have done that? Slept with them? Hadn’t he missed her at all? Hadn’t he loved her like he said, or had they just been the age-old words men had uttered since the beginning of time to get what they wanted?
“Don’t cry,” Matt said, touching her cheek and wiping away tears she hadn’t felt fall. “You have a plan with the bakery. That’s what matters.”
She nodded, because speaking seemed impossible. Besides, what was the point? He actually thought she was only upset about the bakery. How just like a guy.
“I’m just tired,” she managed to murmur. “It’s a lot to take in.”
He nodded and stepped back.
She stood by the bed feeling broken and alone, knowing she’d better get used to this because it wasn’t going to change. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized that talking about the bakery and making it there, reconciling with Nicole, had all been crap. Sure, it was important, but it hadn’t been the real reason she’d come back. She’d come back for Matt. She’d come back to see if there was still something between them because she couldn’t seem to move on. No other man had interested her and plenty had tried. She’d come back to see if he still loved her.
Looks like she had her answer.
It shouldn’t hurt so much, she thought, even as pain sliced through her. She shouldn’t be surprised. He’d never come looking for her, so of course he’d moved on. Still, a part of her had wondered if maybe, deep down inside, he’d felt it, too.
She’d been a fool.
There was no way she was going to sleep now, but her clothes were in the wash, so she was stuck for the next hour or so. Better to be alone in his bed than trying to make conversation with him.
“Do you have a T-shirt or something I can borrow?” she asked, hoping the twisting in her stomach went away soon.
He went into the jumbo closet and opened a built-in drawer, then returned with a soft, well-worn Seahawks T- shirt. He started to hand it to her, then swore, tossed it on the bed, grabbed her by the collar of the robe, dragged her close and kissed her.
It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was determined and hungry, taking as much as it offered. He used his lips to claim her, his tongue to arouse her and, dammit all to hell, it worked.
She found herself straining toward him, kissing him as intensely as he kissed her. She put her hands on his shoulders, then his upper arms and felt the strength of him. The fire she remembered returned, consuming them both. He broke the kiss and stared at her.
