Her eyes glistened further as she shook her head, her legs drawing him in. ‘You won’t, Jack. You’re not.’
She kissed him—kissed him until he could think of nothing but claiming her heart as she had his, forcing out the guilt that tried to break in anew.
You won’t hurt her... You won’t hurt her... You won’t...
* * *
Sophia clutched her glass of water to her chest and stared at the kitchen clock. Three a.m. glared back at her. Three a.m. and there was a gorgeous naked man asleep in her sofa bed and she was sitting at her breakfast bar, freshly showered with her PJs on and wishing she could climb straight back in with him.
Hence why she w
as looking at the clock and not at him. Because the temptation was too great and the risk that she would fall asleep again, only to have Lily wander in and find them, was too high.
It was bad enough she’d fallen asleep the first time, bad enough that they both had, but it had been blissful in the aftermath and she had been too content to move. As had he apparently.
And when she’d woken up to Jack’s arm locked around her middle and the initial shock of being in bed with a man had passed, she’d found herself cocooned in his body warmth, soothed by his gentle snore, his scent, and she hadn’t wanted to move. She’d let the night play back to her, along with the soreness of what they had shared, and her whole body had flushed with reignited heat and a strange bashfulness.
She’d been torn between staying and showering, and in the end it had been the thought that Lily could wake up that had spurred her into moving. It was one thing for Jack to wake and see her in that tangled mess, but not Lily. She wasn’t sure where this turn in their relationship had left them, but she knew it wasn’t in a solid enough place for Lily to learn of it.
Tomorrow—no, later today—they could talk. They could agree how they should be for Lily’s sake and—
‘Elena!’
She almost dropped her glass as he cried out. She looked back to the bed, to where he writhed and rolled, his arm flinging out, his face creased up in pain as his chest heaved.
She put the glass down and shot across the room, reaching out for him as she lowered herself to the bed. It didn’t matter that it was another woman he called for, another woman who haunted his dreams; she was the one who could be there for him.
She cradled his head against her hip and gently shushed him, her fingers stroking through his hair, thankful that his features started to relax and his breathing settled.
She looked up to the hallway, to where her bedroom door lay, and knew it was useless now; she was his captive whether he intended her to be or not.
‘Elena... Elena...’ He writhed against her, his dead wife’s name on his lips, and though she didn’t want it to, her heart ached anyway. Was this how it was for him every night, Elena haunting his dreams? Or had what they’d shared triggered it?
And if it was the latter, what did it mean for them?
If she were to believe what he had told her, he’d never loved Elena, not in the way he felt she deserved. But he’d also said he could never feel for Sophia what he felt she deserved.
She thought about all he had said to her, about his request that she join him and Lily in Iceland, that she face her fears with him by her side. Surely that had to mean he felt more? Wasn’t that why she’d wanted him to make love to her, why she’d wanted him to be her first, because regardless of what he felt for her, she knew she already felt so much more for him?
Her fingers stilled over his hair, her eyes intent on the sight of him lying beside her.
Felt so much more...she really did...it was too late to stop it, to hit rewind.
And even as she accepted it as fact, she knew she couldn’t tell him, not yet. He wasn’t ready to hear it. He would sooner run the other way than accept that another woman cared for him.
She wasn’t scared of Iceland, the snow, the past. She was scared of the future and the knowledge that what she wanted above all else was a life with him and Lily.
* * *
Jack woke with a start to the smell of bacon cooking and his daughter’s excited giggle.
‘Do it again, Sphea, again!’
‘Shh, you’ll wake your daddy!’ Sophia laughed as she said it, turning to smile down at Lily before lifting her gaze to him and freezing mid-movement, a frying pan outstretched before her. One second, two, and then her eyes softened into his, her smile lifting anew. ‘Too late, he’s up.’
‘Daddy!’ Lily raced across the room and he just had time to lock the blanket around his hips before she launched herself into his arms. ‘Sphea’s flipping pancakes!’
‘She is?’ He grinned at Sophia over his daughter’s shoulder and saw her cheeks flush pink, like they so often did. He felt his heart blooming to life, the extent of what he felt for her hitting him full force. He waited for the panic, the worry...but there was none.