“Thank you, Mrs. Hawthorne. She’ll love that.”
Back in the elevator, Jack was the first to break our silence. “Does he call you Mrs. Hawthorne every time you talk or is it just my presence that changes things?”
I gave him a sheepish grin and he just shook his head. “I like the sound of it, though.”
“The sound of what?”
“Mrs. Hawthorne. I like it when you say it too.”
The doors opened to his floor before he could respond, and we walked into the apartment.
All I wanted to do was go upstairs, take a shower so I could feel like a normal human being again, and take a long, long nap. So, that’s what I decided to go ahead and do. I took off my shoes next to the door and headed straight for the stairs.
“I’ll jump in the shower and just try to get myself back together.” I turned around and started walking backward, my eyes on Jack. “Would you like to join me?”
“Rose.”
One word, my name, which had gained a new meaning lately. It meant no.
“I meant for cleaning purposes only, but suit yourself, buddy. Do you have work to do? You came to the hospital with me and now you’re here so I’m guessing you need to catch up with things because of me.”
“I’ll be in my office.”
“Okay. I’ll come bug you as soon as I’m done.” Waving at him, I finally turned back around and trotted up the stairs.
“Rose?”
I looked down at Jack, my husband who was in fact not my husband, who had held my ankle during the entire MRI scan and then wrapped me in his arms while whispering that I was okay, that we were okay again and again in the privacy of a little hospital room. I didn’t think he understood how much it meant to me. It was getting harder and harder with each passing day to hold myself back and not tell him what I was feeling for him, what I had been feeling for him for quite a while now.
“Yes?”
“You’re good.”
It wasn’t a question. I wasn’t sure if it was a statement or not, either. He wanted me to be good, so I’d be good, for him, so he’d feel good.
I gave him a small smile. “Never better.”
“You should try harder—it doesn’t seem to be working.”
My smile got bigger and I saluted him, disappearing from his sight.
There was a small knock on my door before it cracked open. “Rose?”
“If you don’t want to have sex with me don’t come in,” I warned the only person who could be knocking on my door.
Despite my warning, he opened it and stood there in all his glory. Same suit, same everything, face and frown and all.
I stood there in my thankfully matching sky blue bra and panties. I was standing with the towel in my hands, and I kept standing there as his hungry eyes took in every inch of my half-naked body. I had hips, but I liked them. I liked that there was a curve to me, a curve that loved the touch of his hands. While my boobs weren’t anything too spectacular, Jack didn’t seem to agree. I’d never been happier to have almost C cups as I’d been when I’d caught his eyes on them a time or two. In any case, we stood just like that, him in the doorway with eyes glued to me, me in the middle of the room with my body heating. I didn’t think anyone would describe me as shy, but I felt a touch of heat on my cheeks when the seconds ticked by and Jack didn’t say anything.
“Hi?” I managed to croak out.
His eyes snapped to me and his jaw hardened, making him even hotter. I truly loved it when his face turned all prickly and frustrated and angry and arrogant and heated and hungry and annoyed and all the things. “Hi,” he forced out.
Gulping, I brought the towel I had been using to dry my hair to my front and somewhat tried to conceal my nakedness. It wouldn’t help much with anything because it was only a little bigger than a hand towel.
“How can I help you?” I groaned on the inside. Me being horny was all the doctor’s fault. I’d never in my life asked any of my boyfriends if they were in the mood to have sex, let alone begged someone to have sex with me as much as I’d begged Jack.
There was something about him. Maybe if we had done it once, I would have stopped thinking and talking about it all the time. Maybe he’d be excruciatingly bad—but I knew he wouldn’t be. I knew what he’d do to me, and I couldn’t wait.
“Are you free for dinner?” His voice was still tight, as was his grip on the door handle, and that was a question I hadn’t heard in a while.