As If You Never Left Me (Crimson Romance) (6 page)

“It’s eight o’clock,” he said, dubious.

Joely got the feeling Rey knew exactly why she was trying to leave. “I’m tired,” she protested weakly.

He pointed at the TV. “I thought you liked this show.”

Joely hesitated, surprised he remembered. “Well, I — ”

“Just sit down and watch it. I won’t bite.”

“I’m not worried about getting bitten.” Although biting wasn’t necessarily a bad thing …

He shrugged, his smile not quite smug. “Okay, I won’t touch you, then.”

That hit closer to the root of the problem. She waffled again, then gave in and sat at the far end of the couch. Which still didn’t leave much room between them. She could still smell him, could feel his warmth if she concentrated a little. She really needed a bigger couch.

He kept his promise, though, and gradually her unease faded. Fifteen minutes later, they were laughing companionably over the antics of the familiar characters. They’d always enjoyed watching TV together, though usually they’d sat much closer together, close enough she could feel his laughter before it started. Even now, with the distance between them, she felt some of the same camaraderie. Especially since they both still laughed at the same jokes. Maybe there was a chance, after all.

She forced her thoughts away from maybes, and made herself concentrate on the television. Finally, about halfway through the late news, she found herself yawning.

“Tired?” Rey asked.

“Yeah. And I have to get up in the morning to go to work.” She headed for the hall closet. “Let’s get that bed made up.”

“Just toss me some blankets. I’ll take care of it.”

That worked. If he made up the couch himself, she wouldn’t have to help him. Wouldn’t have to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him thinking about the two of them together in bed, under sheets, over sheets, tangled in them.

No, much better if he did it himself. So she tossed him sheets, a blanket, a quilt and a pillow from the hallway. He caught them, looking bemused.

“I don’t need this many blankets.”

“That’s what you think, city boy.” She tossed him another blanket. “Weren’t you watching the weather?”

“Yeah. Do you really think it’ll snow tonight? It’s only October.”

“Snow in October is par for the course in Colorado.” She closed the linen closet. “There are more blankets in here if you need them.” With that, she turned and left him standing there alone, arms full of blankets.

Alone in her room, she changed into her purple flannel pajamas. Not exactly sexy, but certainly warm.

Now why in the world would you need sexy pajamas? It’s not as if he’s going to come in here and take them off you.
She rolled her eyes at her own wandering thoughts and crawled into bed.

But, in spite of nearly drifting off during the news, now she couldn’t sleep at all. She lay awake looking at the ceiling, thinking about Rey in the other room. He’d never slept in more than a pair of boxers; she doubted he had on anything more right now. Maybe he was asleep already, hair tousled, drooling on the pillow.

How had he managed to get past her barriers so quickly? She’d been determined to protect herself, and now here he was in her house, sleeping in his underwear on her couch only a room away. All this after fourteen months, during which he’d barely tried to contact her …

She sat up suddenly, tossing back the covers. On the shelf in her closet was a white shoebox she could barely reach. Straining upwards on her toes, she caught hold of it and managed to maneuver it down into her hands.

She carried it back to the bed and covered herself back up, tucking the blankets around her lap. She let the house get quite cool at night, to keep her electric bill down and to prevent having to keep more than a small fire burning in the stove. So, before she opened the box, she made sure she was cozy.

Even then, she stared at the box’s lid for a time before she finally pushed it open. Inside were twelve letters. Unopened, addressed to her, in Rey’s handwriting.

He’d tried. He’d called her several times, as well. He’d even called her mother to track down her phone number, and Joely knew he’d rather have dental work done than talk to his mother-in-law. She’d never opened his letters, and had used Caller ID to avoid his calls.

What had she been afraid of? Had she thought maybe he would say something that would change her mind? Why hadn’t she given him a chance, back then?

She picked up the top letter and slid her index finger under the envelope’s flap. There was a small tearing sound. She stopped. For a moment, she sat frozen like that, the tip of her finger ready to tear the envelope open. Then she put the letter back, closed the box, and stuffed it under the bed.

Whatever she’d been afraid of then, she was afraid of the same thing now. Afraid of opening herself up again, of getting hurt.

Or maybe she was just afraid it was too late.

She lay there, curled up in the blankets, curled around her heart, remembering what it had been like to have him next to her in bed, just sleeping, his warmth suffusing the blankets. A man in bed could come in handy on those cold mountain nights. The altitude sucked the heat out of the air even in the depths of the summer. And he was just down the tiny hallway, wasting all that glorious male heat on her couch cushions.

Resolutely, she grabbed her spare pillow, wrapped her arm around it and closed her eyes. She’d slept alone in this bed for fourteen months, and she’d stayed plenty warm enough. She would be fine.

• • •

The couch was too short. Way too short. Rey butted his feet up against the armrest, but his head was still squished against the other one. He could put his head on top of the armrest, but it was uncomfortable, digging into his neck and squishing his ear. The pillow helped, but not enough.

He was never going to get to sleep at this rate. Adding to his frustration was the thought that Joely was only a room away in a perfectly comfortable bed that undoubtedly had more room for him in it than this stupid couch did. He’d even promise not to touch her, if he could just get enough room to stretch out flat on his back.

Who was he kidding? He could promise, but he’d touch her anyway. As much as possible. Maybe it would be better for them both if he just stayed here.

Maybe if he had another pillow …

He sat up, peering down the short hallway. A small nightlight burned next to the bathroom door, which was good because otherwise the tiny house was pitch black. He’d never lived anywhere without streetlights, and the immensity of the darkness here had caught him off guard. There must not be any moon to speak of tonight. He’d never thought much about that, either.

Joely’s bedroom door was closed. He hadn’t heard anything from that part of the house since he’d finished tucking himself in. She’d probably dropped right off to sleep, sprawled all over her comfortable bed. He wondered if there was another pillow stuffed into that miniscule linen closet.

He pushed back the blanket and quilt and tiptoed across the room, feeling gooseflesh crawl down his back. The chill had surprised him, as well. It had been fairly warm today, and he hadn’t expected the temperatures to drop off as much as they had. Another one of those weird mountain things, he supposed.

He was shivering by the time he got to the linen closet. Carefully, he turned the knob and opened the door. It squeaked a little and he grimaced, looking toward Joely’s door. Surely she hadn’t heard that. He poked his head into the closet, squinting in the darkness, and made out the lump of a pillow.

“Aha!” he whispered, and dragged it out. It had a pillowcase on it and everything. What luck.

He saw the shadow move out of the corner of his eye. It was a person, and it wielded something large and probably dangerous. He wheeled automatically, lifting the pillow to protect himself.

“Get out of my house! What the hell do you think you’re doing in my house?” The screeching voice was barely recognizable as Joely’s. Rey cringed, waiting for her to hit him, but whatever she had, she was only brandishing it.

“Joely! Joely, it’s me!” He peeked around the edge of the pillow. She barely had her eyes open.

“Get out get out get out — ” Her litany suddenly broke off. She shook her head and lowered her weapon, which proved to be a golf club. She reached toward the wall switch, and a moment later, the hallway was flooded with light. Cautiously, Rey lowered the pillow.

Joely regarded him with bleary eyes, blinking against the sudden light. “Oh,” she said. “Sorry.”

He looked at the golf club in her hand. One of his old Big Bertha wood drivers, if he wasn’t mistaken. “Good God, Joely, you could have killed me with that thing!”

To her credit, Joely looked chagrined. “I said I was sorry. I was having a dream and I heard you in the hallway and I woke up. I’m not used to having somebody else in my house.”

“No wonder, if this is the way you treat your houseguests.” Suddenly, he realized there was more of interest here than his old golf club — and he’d been wondering for a while where that had gotten off to. Joely had on dark purple flannel pajamas. Sexy ones, with lace trim around the neck and sleeves. The top button had come undone and Rey could see the inside curves of her breasts. She looked tousled from sleep, much as she’d used to look after sex. Except for the red sheet marks on her face, but that didn’t detract from the effect enough to stop Rey’s cock from springing to abrupt attention.

He was at a great disadvantage, standing there in nothing but a pair of white cotton briefs. Joely, apparently seeing the shift in his gaze, looked right at his crotch.

“Forget it, Rey.” She spoke the words directly to his burgeoning erection, which ignored them completely. Then she spun on her heel, dragging Rey’s golf club behind her, and went back into her bedroom.

“God, this sucks,” said Rey, and headed back toward the couch. He should have known better than to think he could be this close to her without suffering for it. He wanted to be with her, not just near her.

Now he’d never get back to sleep.

• • •

There was no sleeping for Joely, either. She lay awake in bed, tossing and turning, smashing and re-smashing her pillow, muttering to herself and generally becoming thoroughly involved in an intense case of insomnia.

She couldn’t get the image out of her head — of Rey in nothing but his underwear, erection straining against the thin cotton. She had been able to see every detail — the curve of it, the demarcation between shaft and head. She hadn’t seen him that thoroughly aroused since a few months after their honeymoon. Standing there in the cold hallway, she’d wanted to put her hand right under the straining cotton of his fly and go to town. If she had, she’d probably be sleeping right now, satiated and snoring.

Instead, she was all alone in a big bed, punishing her pillow for her own stubbornness.

A month, he’d said. There was no way she could have him in her house for a month and not drag him, at some point, straight into her bed, get him naked and have her way with him. So she had to decide, and soon, whether to go along with his plan. To let him be her husband again, in thought, word, and deed, or to send him packing back to New York.

She smashed her pillow again and looked at the clock. Four hours from now, she had to get out of bed and go to work. Maybe Perry could tell her what she should do. She had a feeling she knew exactly what Perry would say.

Closing her eyes, she pictured again the clean lines of his bare torso, remembered what his skin felt like under her hands. Remembered what it had been like to make love to him, to let him inside in every possible way. The thought of sending him away brought tears to her eyes. So did the thought of letting him stay.

She looked at the clock. Three
A.M.
It was going to be a long night.

• • •

To her own surprise, she did eventually fall asleep, which she discovered when the ringing phone woke her. Barely conscious, she rolled over and picked up the receiver on her bedside table.

“Joely, I know you’re not awake,” said Perry before Joely could jump-start her voice. “Just look out the window.”

Joely rolled half over to peer over the headboard of her bed, tweaking the curtain aside. “Oh, my God.” Her tone was more reverent than upset.

“Yep. Don’t bother coming in. I’ll call Virginia and tell her we won’t be there.”

“Okay. Thanks, Perry.”

She turned the phone off and leaned her chin against the headboard, looking out at nearly eighteen inches of snow. And it was still coming down, so thickly she could barely see the small barn that held her studio, only twenty yards or so from the house.

Smiling, she settled in to watch for a while. She loved to watch the soft drifting of snow from the low, gray clouds, piling silently in her yard, filling the valley with white. It made her want to sing “White Christmas,” even though it wasn’t even Halloween.

A sudden noise interrupted her reverie. Startled, she started to reach for the golf club, then remembered. Rey. How could she have forgotten? Especially after she’d nearly brained him last night. And standing there looking at him in his skivvies … Sometimes her brain amazed her with its ability to forget things. Self-preservation, she supposed, particularly in this case.

She swung her feet out of bed and stuffed them into her fluffy slippers. The wooden floors would be cold. Grabbing her heavy, terrycloth bathrobe on the way out, she went to check on Rey.

She found him a little sooner than she’d expected. He was in the bathroom, occupied. The door, which had a bad latch and loose hinges, was slowly swinging open.

Joely couldn’t resist a look. He was still in nothing but his shorts, shivering visibly. Unfortunately, he had his back turned to her, making it impossible for her to see what he had in his hands. That was too bad.

“Getting a little casual, aren’t we?” she said.

“I closed the door,” he protested.

“You have to pull it shut pretty hard. The latch doesn’t always catch.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know that, now, would I?”

Joely smiled. Rey seemed almost embarrassed. That would be a new experience for him. “Shall I close it?”