Getting down on her hands and knees, she searched for the lost pills. She found one under the edge of the stove, blew off the dust, then felt a wave of dizziness as she stood.
“I know something that can take away the hangover.” His eyes twinkled with mischief and more than a little desire.
“Didn’t you see Mom sleeping on the couch? Put some clothes on before you give her a heart attack.”
And before you make me forget why I can’t have you.
“I wasn’t looking for your mom.”
He shifted and she tore her gaze off his body. Resisting the urge to squirm, her chafed and throbbing parts reminded her she hadn’t seen him, nude or otherwise, in a year. It was as if she’d been on a diet and decided to eat an entire buffet of dessert in one night. “Can you please get dressed,” she pleaded then concentrated on taking down her favorite cup from the glass cabinet.
“I could use a cup too. Black with a teaspoon of sugar and a splash of milk, none of that almond stuff, of course you already know what I like.” There was a noticeable teasing lilt in his tone.
“Then be sure to tell that to the person behind the counter at Dunkin’.” She swallowed the pill with a sip of coffee and was glad that by the time she turned with her cup clasped between her shaky palms that he had his jeans on. She blew through the steam, her gaze naturally gravitating to his crotch that he’d inadvertently left unzipped.
“Come on, Novah. How can you be in a bad mood after last night?” His wicked smile reminded her how good last night was—just how many times she’d succumbed to pleasure.
Her favorite position was when he’d pressed her over the dresser. There was just something erotic about watching through the mirror, their slick, naked bodies together as he took her fast and hard. No denying that she’d enjoyed herself immensely, but with the sunlight came the cold-hard reality crashing in. They were like oil and water. Light and darkness. Good and bad.
“How can I be in a bad mood? Maybe because last night became morning. You were supposed to leave, remember?”
“I fell asleep, and so did you.” He swiped his palm down his dissatisfied expression. He looked tired which tweaked her concern. Out of habit she started to ask how he’d been sleeping, but she couldn’t allow herself to open up to those avenues again, not when she’d finally managed to close a few of them.
“This doesn’t change anything, Egan.” She set her cup aside, suddenly not needing it. “I didn’t come into the bar last night looking for this—looking to shoot back a few shots of tequila and take a stroll down memory lane. I agree, I lost myself for a minute with the slow songs, laughing over lame jokes, seeing old family and friends.” She and his family had always been close. “The familiar feelings of the past were uncovered, but I’ve worked so hard to stand on my own two feet. To find a rhythm of existence.”
“And I’ve never encouraged you to be independent?” His eyes burned with the remnants of the issues that had torn them apart.
“That’s not what I’m saying.” She squeezed her eyes shut long enough to gather her emotions. “Egan, what we had…it fizzled out. Last night, well, we should think of what we shared as closure.” Those words felt like acid on her tongue. She leaned into the edge of the counter for support.
“Oh? Just remember who made the move last night, sweetheart. For someone looking for closure it sure as hell felt more like hello.” The low tone of his words made her tremble. “You could have just called me.”
“I couldn’t have you sign these over the phone.” Stepping over to her purse sitting on the butcher’s block island, she took out the envelope and slid it across the table. “These need your signature.”
He stared for a good three heartbeats before he picked up the envelope, his gaze dripping with frost. His jaw was noticeably tight under the day-old layer of peppered whiskers and his lips thinned. “Signature?”
“Divorce papers.”
“A divorce? Is that really what you want?” His tone matched his stare.
“You knew this was coming.” Exhaling, she pushed a pen toward him. “We’ve been separated for a year now. The same reasons why we gave up on our marriage are still a problem. We’re not doing anyone, especially Finley, any favors by prolonging the inevitable.” A wave of sadness rolled through her, unlike what she’d expected. She knew this wouldn’t be easy, but she thought she was in a stronger place. She wavered between wanting to end the pain and wanting to walk into his strong arms and give in to temptation. But then what?
When she’d met him, he’d swept her off her feet like a tornado and she’d been too moonstruck to see the dangers that lurked ahead. For six weeks she’d been caught up in some heaven-like trance so when he asked her to marry him, she’d said “yes” without a sliver of hesitation. He’d never lied about or sugar-coated his strenuous career in the military. He’d been frank about being deployed for weeks at a time
