Angel's Rest(91)

Afterward, Gabe lay on his back staring up at the starry sky, one arm tucked beneath his head, the other around his wife. He felt as if he’d just scaled a mountain pass and discovered Shangri-La on the other side. It was a place, a state, he’d like never to have to leave. He was sated, satisfied, luxuriating in boneless aprés-orgasm bliss—and, thank God, free of both guilt and ghosts.

Almost happy.

That thought threatened his mellow mood, and he told himself to turn away from it. This was not the time to analyze and fret. Not the time to resurrect those ghosts. He needed to live for the moment, in the moment. So far, so good. He hadn’t invited thoughts of Jennifer into his bed—such as it was—with Nic. That’s the way it should stay for both their sakes. Nice. Simple. Surface.

“Are you okay?” Nic asked, showing an uncanny ability to read his mind.

He tried to bluff his way through it. “Let me catch my breath and I could be better.”

A long moment passed in silence. He thought she’d let it go, and he started to relax.

Too soon, it turned out.

Her quiet voice chastised. “Don’t hide from me, Gabe. Not now.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but shut it again without speaking when she rose up on her elbow. The soft light from the garden lanterns bathed her form, revealing the solemn entreaty in her eyes. “This was a big step for both of us. Look, I’m not trying to be your psychologist or your grief counselor, but I think it’s important that we communicate. It’s part of any healthy relationship.”

“I don’t like to talk about my feelings.”

“Well, at least you admit you have feelings. Look, I’m not asking for details about your sex life with Jennifer. What I’m asking is for you to talk to me. Give me a clue here.”

He scowled. “I think what just happened was a pretty big clue, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do. But until you confirm it, I’m just guessing. I’m still learning who you are, Gabe. I could guess wrong, and that could lead to misunderstandings that could hurt us both. I need to know what to expect. Or, in this case, what not to expect. That’s not asking too much.”

“You’re asking where we go from here?”

“Yes.”

“I’m hoping upstairs to bed.”

“Together?”

“Yeah.”

“And what about tomorrow night? Tonight has been a change, but I’m clueless how big a change it’s been. My leg is better. I can get along okay on my own. Where do we go from here, Gabe? Will you stay, here, in my bed? Or will you go?”

“You sure ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” When she didn’t respond to that, but simply stared at him with a steady, solemn gaze, he sighed and closed his eyes. “All right. All right. I want to stay here. I want to move into your bedroom. I’d like a regular sex life again.”

He opened his eyes then and gave her a sidelong look. “So, you happy now? I spilled my guts. Did it spoil the mood?”

“You didn’t spoil the mood for me.” She trailed a finger down the center of his chest to his navel. “Honest talk turns me on.”

Her hand continued its southward trek and his body responded to her touch. When her mouth traced the path of her hand, he gave himself up to a long-missed pleasure until his hunger grew too hot, too fierce. He pulled her up, positioned her above him, her knees straddling his hips, and took her fast, with lots of enthusiasm and little finesse. When they finished and she collapsed atop him, laughing breathlessly, he stroked the silken waterfall of her hair and wondered if the demonstration of risk-reward had been a conscious one. Somehow he doubted she did anything coincidentally.

He shook his head in wonder. “I don’t know what to make of you, Nic.”

She propped herself up and met his gaze. “Why do you say that?”

“You are a wonderful woman. You’re gorgeous, witty, intelligent. Sexy as hell. I am a head case.” Though he wasn’t at all certain he wanted the answer, he finished with a quiet question. “Why are you willing to put up with this BS from me?”

She slid off him then, sat beside him, and wrapped herself in a blanket. “My turn for some honest talk, I guess.”

Never mind, he wanted to say.

“The truth is that if not for the babies, I probably wouldn’t be in this. The odds are against us. You are more work than I need at this point in my life. Plus I have a bone-deep aversion to being any man’s doormat.”