The bathroom door swung open, and Jake emerged, scrubbing at his hair with a towel. “Did I wake you?”
“You didn’t.” I rubbed at my eyes and sat up against the headboard, pulling the sheet up to cover my breasts. “What time is it? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stay over.”
“About eight forty-five—I have to meet Thomas and get to the barbershop soon.” Jake grabbed a pair of jeans from his nearby suitcase and pulled them up and over his thighs. When he settled on the bed next to me, his hair was in all different directions, and there were a few drops of water on his shoulders I wanted to kiss away. “Good morning,” he said with a smile, leaning in to plant a soft peck on my lips. “I’m glad you stayed. I wish we had more time for a proper good morning, but you looked so peaceful sleeping, I didn’t want to wake you.”
I swept a hand over his tousled locks. Jake closed his eyes briefly as my fingernails grazed his scalp. A barely audible sigh slipped from his mouth, and my lips turned up as I took in his long eyelashes and the firm set of his jaw. I imagined waking up like this every morning with those soft, sexy moments together. I’d slept like a rock without the usual middle-of-the-night startles or bouts of insomnia.
Stop it. It’s a few days.
“I’ll get out of here so you can go,” I said after a moment, letting my hands fall and breaking the kiss. “It will only take me a few minutes to get ready.”
“Stay,” Jake said, not pulling back. His blue eyes were still focused on my mouth.
“I shouldn’t.” I made a move to stand, but I was still covered in only the sheet.
“Up to you, but you could sleep longer or take that bath we never got around to. No need for you to rush on my account. We didn’t exactly get a lot of rest last night.” Jake grinned before glancing over my shoulder at the bedside clock. “Shit, I have to go.” He reluctantly rose, pulled a T-shirt from his suitcase, and grabbed his watch and wallet from the dresser.
I followed the lines of his back and shoulders as he pulled on shoes and glanced at the clock again. “I have wedding stuff all day. But I’ll talk to you later?”
I nodded, and he pressed his mouth to mine again, his tongue sweeping my bottom lip. He tasted like toothpaste, which I found oddly comforting and familiar.
“It will be pretty amazing knowing you’re here, naked in my room,” he said with a wink before he stepped into the hallway.
It was kind of amazing. Every time I woke up with him, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was waking up to myself a little more. I leaned my head back against the headboard with a sigh and held in my smile, trying to rein in my reactions to this man who seemed a little more irresistible with every interaction. It’s just sex. It’s just sex. It’s just— Before the door clicked shut, I heard a husky alto voice call out from nearby. “Good morning, Jacob.”
My head snapped back up at the use of his full name. I pulled the sheet around me and tiptoed closer to the door. I felt utterly ridiculous spying on the conversation, but I listened anyway.
The woman’s voice came through the door, so they must have been standing close. “Quite the coincidence that we’re neighbors,” she said. This time it sounded like a purr. Something a lot like jealousy rose in me.
“You know I prefer Jake, and I’m sure it isn’t. Good morning, Gretchen.” Jake’s voice, even muffled through the door, sounded formal and stiff. I’d never heard his words so clipped or his consonants so tightly articulated.
My muscles tensed, and goose bumps formed on my arms. Who is Gretchen?
“I’ve always called you Jacob. You know I detest nicknames.”
“Well, I no longer have to care what you detest.”
There was a pause before she spoke again. “Have fun with your overnight guest?”
“That’s not really your business, Gretch.”
“Well, I am your wife, so I’d say it’s my business.”
Twenty
I let someone in for the first time in three years and he’s cheating on his wife? A flush rose up my neck, and shame settled as a heavy lump in my belly. I hadn’t realized I’d taken a couple steps away from the door, my arms crossed over my stomach. No, no, no. I looked around the room as if someone would materialize to absolve my guilt or justify my rage. How did I read this so wrong?
The woman’s voice continued. “The walls are thin, and whoever you picked up was quite . . . vocal, so it’s not like you need to tell me.”