Zach didn’t deny it. That was a part of his nature he couldn’t get rid of. Whether he was writing a grocery list, doing a job or taking care of his family, he was usually in whole hog.
A cute frown scrunched up Sadie’s usually open features. “But I can take care of myself,” she said. She shuffled toward the dresser. “After all, I’ve been doing it all my life.”
He refrained from pointing out that she would have been driving impaired if he had let her go home alone, and watched her pull out pajamas. She shuffled to what he assumed was the bathroom and shut herself inside.
Right, he’d conveniently forgotten about the stubborn streak.
Dropping the overnight bag he kept stowed in his SUV, Zach strolled over and sank onto the couch to wait, banging his knee against the little coffee table in the process. The laptop before him sprang to life.
Four pictures filled the screen, all of him. These weren’t the classic survey pictures he was used to seeing. Each one was artistically composed with strategic lighting and showed him absorbed in some task. Except for the one in the bottom right corner, in which he stared straight ahead with a sad look on his face.
The pictures had an indefinable quality portraying not just his emotion but the photographer’s as well. Almost a wistful, yearning feel.
Looking at them, it hit him—Sadie had missed him after all.
The bathroom door opened. Somehow, Zach knew Sadie would not want him to see these pictures. With a flick of his wrist, he closed the laptop.
He looked away so he could avoid seeing the sway of her breasts beneath the short, fitted nightie she wore. Unlike the oversize T-shirts his sister had preferred as a teenager, Sadie was all girl when it came to pajamas and underwear.
Nope. Don’t go there.
She plopped onto the bed then dropped back onto a mound of pillows. The minute her head made contact, she winced.
But her sleepy eyes met his defiantly. “See. I’m good.”
Yes, you are. He smothered a smile. “Sure you are.”
She ignored him, rolling onto her side. He could have been offended at her presenting her back, except he knew from experience that was the side she slept on.
He stood for a long time in the middle of the room, almost able to pinpoint to the second when she sank into sleep. His gaze traced the familiar S curve of her body he was desperate to curl around once more. He looked out the window at the darkening sky, then at the alarm screen on his phone that told him when he would need to wake her next.
And finally, the laptop.
He didn’t have to open it to know what was inside. Those pictures were imprinted on his brain. Mixed with the yearning he’d seen on her face when they’d stood in the alley this morning, he knew deep inside that Sadie still wanted him, too.
Then he stripped down to his boxer briefs and climbed into bed beside Sadie. At some point, his body made up his mind for him. He might be a selfish bastard, but if this was his chance to have one more taste of the only woman who had tempted his heart, he wasn’t going to turn it down.
Seven
Waking to the feel of strong arms and Zach’s scent wasn’t unusual for Sadie. He remained in her dreams no matter how many days they were apart. She let herself hover there between wakefulness and sleep, wishing the feel of him would never disappear.
Ever so slowly, the mist started to recede. “Zach,” she whispered, her mind still not comprehending. “Zach, is that you?”
“Yes,” he murmured. “I’m here.”
“Please don’t leave me.”
“I didn’t leave you. You left me.”
“But I never really wanted to.”
Only the sudden stiffening of the body beside hers awakened her enough to realize that he was real rather than a figment of her imagination. So warm and alive she could have wept in gratitude.
The confusion dissipated in a rush of fever as desire swept through her. She’d denied her need for too long.
His groan filled the air. The rough scratch of hair and smooth heat of skin graced her palms, telling her she had reached out to touch. To test whether the apparition of her dreams was indeed real.
And that’s when reality returned in an unwelcome rush.
She shouldn’t. She knew she shouldn’t, that deep down it made what she was doing that much more despicable. Her betrayal then, and her betrayal now.