Including herself.
She withheld a sigh as she studied her husband covertly out of the corner of her eye. Goodness, he was handsome. Exuding a quiet, powerful strength as he sat behind the wheel of his SUV, his big hands gripping the steering wheel and driving with confidence through the rain-soaked streets. He needed a haircut but she liked the messiness of it. The two-day stubble growth on his cheeks and jaw just added to his rugged sexiness and the way his navy blue, long-sleeved Henley clung to his arms, shoulders and chest, well…it fueled more than a few fantasies churning within her.
“Something on my face?” he asked, breaking her thoughts.
“What? No.” She shook her head, mortified he caught her. She settled in her seat, staring straight ahead, watching the rain come down hard as Jared drove the winding road back to his place. Their place.
“Then why were you looking at me?” His quiet, rumbling voice reached deep inside her, making her skin warm, heating her blood. She wanted him. So badly it was killing her.
No, she didn’t just want him. She was starting to need him. And boy if that wasn’t scary…
“Maybe I like looking at you?” she offered, deciding to be honest.
He smiled, a flash of white in the semi-darkness of the car’s interior. “I like looking at you too. Watching you tonight…you were amazing, Sheridan.”
She stilled, shocked at his words. “What?”
He glanced at her quickly, returning his attention to the road. “Making all of those women smile, teaching them about art. Helping them forget their troubles at least for a little while, or reminding the ones who’ve gone through it already that they’re still strong. I’m so proud of you, baby.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, pressing her lips together. Tears threatened. She didn’t know why—it didn’t make any sense. But that Jared would say such sweet things about her, that he respected and admired what she did, touched her.
Reaching out, he settled his hand on her denim-covered thigh, squeezing her leg. His touch burned through the thick fabric, and her skin tingled. “You’re making a real difference in their lives.”
All the praise was making her uncomfortable. She wasn’t used to it, especially from a guy. One of her past boyfriends had been such an egomaniac she’d hardly got a word in the entire time they’d been together. Another had been so wrapped up in his own world, he hadn’t noticed whether she was coming or going. Generally selfish bastards, every one of them. Not that Jared didn’t have a healthy ego (he couldn’t not; just look at him) or that he wasn’t selfish (come on, he’s a man) but that he said all those sweet things and meant them. That he noticed what she’d done that night.
It meant the world to her.
She remained quiet the rest of the ride home, contemplating Jared’s words. Thinking of everything that had happened between them lately. She’d grown so close to him. Too close. She respected him, believed in him, wanted to take care of him when it seemed no one else did. He was strong and loyal and funny. A little stubborn, he was a man who didn’t like to give an inch but was generous to a fault. Thoughtful and sexy and possessive and so gorgeous it hurt to look at him.
Glancing down at her hands clutched in her lap, she came to a painful realization.
She’d fallen in love with him. The very last thing she wanted to do. But she’d gone and done it anyway.
Stupid…
They were home minutes later, Jared getting them there safe and sound despite the terrible weather. He’d pulled the car into the garage so they wouldn’t get wet and she dashed into the house, trying to escape the cold, maybe even trying to escape the man she’d stupidly fallen in love with.
But he was right behind her, holding the door open, helping her slip out of her coat. Seemed as if she could always count on him. But could she? Could she really? The famous womanizer had done a complete turnaround and was now the doting husband? It felt so real…but was it all for show?
“You okay?” He settled his big hands on her shoulders, his palms warm, his fingers rubbing her skin. His touch felt so good, she wanted to give in to it. Give in to him. “You’re quiet.”
“I’m just…tired.” She was. But it was more than that. A smarter person wouldn’t have fallen in love with Jared. A better woman would’ve stepped back, realized what she was getting herself into, and guarded her heart.
Instead, Sheridan had walked right into their marriage just begging to get hurt. Not even the no-sex clause protected her. Though that had been her own fault, giving in when she should’ve remained strong.
“Let’s go to bed then,” he murmured close to her ear, his tone suggestive.
He took her hand and led her to his bedroom—their bedroom, really. She hadn’t slept in the guest bed in weeks. Leaving the lamps off in his cavernous room, she went to the bathroom and flicked on the low lights, scrubbing her face devoid of makeup, brushing her teeth. She stripped down to her panties and grabbed a T-shirt that Jared had left on the counter earlier, bringing it to her face so she could inhale his delicious scent. It didn’t smell sweaty, and it didn’t look dirty.
She slipped it on, the hem falling past her knees, the sleeves hitting her
mid-forearm. Counting to three, she stared at her reflection in the mirror, her eyes wide, her hair still in the high ponytail she liked to wear when she worked. She yanked out the band, tossed it onto the counter, and told herself to get out there.
Don’t have sex with him. Your heart is hurting enough.
Yeah, right. Like she could resist Mr. Magic Hands.
Feeling semi-brave, she went back into the bedroom and slipped into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. Jared was already there, hot and big and—gulp—naked. He pulled her into him, those strong arms allowing her no chance to slip out of them. Her face was pressed against the heated skin of his chest.