“Are we back to that?”
“We never left it because you didn’t answer.”
Lightning struck farther in the distance, but the rain stil poured down in sheets. “More than five years. Less than six.”
It took him a few moments to do the math. The second he figured it out, he choked on his wine. “That has to be bul shit. No one can go that long.”
“Why? Why is it so hard for you to believe?” She held up her fingers and counted down the reasons. “I was pregnant for nine months, covered in baby vomit for an entire year after that, and trying to start a business on almost no sleep. I was tired for the first three years of Conner’s life, and the last thing I wanted was another person in my life demanding my time. Being a working mother is very difficult.”
“You haven’t had sex in almost six years?” Out of everything she’d just said, he was stuck on the actual years. “Jesus. No wonder you’re so mean.”
“I’m not mean.” She took a drink, and the sleeve of her robe brushed his bare arm. “It’s just hard for you to believe a person can go that long because you’ve probably never gone without sex for six days.”
“It’s been longer than six days. Sometimes I’m on the road for two weeks.”
“Big whoop.”
“But I can tel you one thing,” he continued, “if I went without sex for six years, I’d have gone blind by now. Then where would I be? I’m a hockey player. Can’t play hockey if I’m blind. Now can I?”
She wondered if he believed his own warped logic. Sadly, he probably did. “On the rare nights I don’t work and you have Conner, what am I supposed to do? Go to some bar and pick up a guy?” Hadn’t she recently had this same conversation with Shiloh and Vince?
His voice was a low murmur in the darkness when he said, “Some women do.”
“Wel , I’m not some women. And despite what you might think of me, given the way we met and how I behaved in Vegas, I was never that woman.”
“I never thought you were.”
Sure. “You made me take a paternity test.” He opened his mouth to defend himself, and she held up one hand to stop him. “I understand why you did it. At the time, it made me mad, but I understood.”
“If I’d seen Conner first, I never would have asked.”
“It doesn’t matter. My point is, that the last time I hooked up with a guy I’d met in a bar, it didn’t exactly work out for me.”
“Yeah.” He was quite for a long moment, then said, “But we have Conner. I haven’t always been a great dad, but I’ve always loved him. I’ve never regretted that he’s in my life.”
Which brought the conversation around to, “On the two-hour drive here tonight, did you think to cal ?”
“Of course, but you would have told me not to come.”
“You’re right. You can’t just invite yourself on our vacation because you want to see Conner.” Like Hal oween and Thanksgiving.
“This isn’t about Conner.”
She looked across her shoulder at him. Into the shadows of his profile. “Then what’s it about?”
“I’m stil trying to figure that one out.” He turned to face her and shoved a bare shoulder into the glass. “I think it might have something to do with unfinished business between the two of us.”
“Whatever ‘business’ we had was finished a long time ago.” When he’d divorced her.
He brushed his hand across her cheek and pushed her hair behind her ear. “That first night I saw you at Pure, you reminded me of the time when I was ten or eleven and mom took me and El a to Washington, D.C.” His gaze moved over her face and hair. “It was night, and we were standing at the Vietnam Memorial, and I looked out and saw bright blinking lights in the darkness. My mom said they were fireflies. I was so intrigued, I ran after them. Trying to catch one.”
She tried to ignore the brush of his fingers on her neck. “Did you just compare me to a fly?”
“To a flash of fire. A bright intriguing light that I wanted to catch and hold in my hands.”
When he said things like that, it reminded her of exactly how and why she’d fal en in love with him so easily. If she didn’t know him, she might be in danger of fal ing al over again. “I’m not going to have sex with you again, Sam.”
He smiled and dropped his hand to his side. “Okay.”