Her Fantasy Husband (Things to do Before You Die… #2)

Josh had never spent the whole night in bed with a woman.

It had been one of the unwritten rules in his how-not-to-get-too-close code of conduct and one of the things his last girlfriend—who’d dumped him shortly before he’d married Lexi—had complained about the most.

But he’d fallen straight asleep, drugged by the soft sound of Lexi’s breathing and the rhythm of her heart beneath his palm. Anyway, his situation was somewhat changed. After all, what was he supposed to do—get out of this lovely bed with a beautiful warm woman in it and go lie on the floor, just to prove a point?

Maybe he was getting soft.

But he had no reason to panic. Lexi had made it clear she wasn’t looking for a real husband, and when their six months were up, they would say good-bye amicably and go their separate ways. And even if she was looking, it wouldn’t be for someone like him. Someone incapable of giving her what she needed. Who couldn’t even give affection to a goddamned dog without getting twitchy.

No, she’d go for someone nice. Someone like that vet from last night. No one had ever accused Josh of being nice.

Except Evie.

He pushed the thought aside, because thinking about Evie was guaranteed to ruin his mood.

So a first for him. Waking up with a woman.

Except he was alone.

He sat upright and glanced around. From the pale light filtering through the curtains, it was still early.

Where the hell was she?

The pillow beside him was dented, but she was nowhere in sight. The bathroom door was closed, but he didn’t think she was in there. He was developing a Lexi-sense and knew when she was nearby. Besides, the chair he’d pushed under the door handle had been moved.

His body felt good and ready for more. He hoped wherever she was, she would get back here fast.

She’d fantasized about him. For five years. She had his picture on her bedroom wall. Some small part of him was niggling, saying that perhaps he should be worried about that. That whatever she said to the contrary, she would try and hold him. But he shut the little voice down. They’d both been clear and upfront about what they wanted. There was no need to go all worried that she was going to want more than he was willing to give.

So they had five years’ worth of Lexi’s fantasies to get through in six months.

His stomach rumbled. He needed food if he was going to have the stamina to cope with a challenge like that. And maybe a shower and a shave so he’d be ready for anything.

Where was she?

He hoped she hadn’t left for the day. He got out of bed and padded naked to the door, opened it, and peered out. Nothing. The house was silent.

He went back to the bathroom, showered, shaved, wrapped a towel around himself and went back to the bedroom just as Lexi came through the door, a tray in her hands. He crossed to her, and took it from her.

“I thought you might be hungry,” she said not quite looking at him.

Was she shy after what they’d done?

After putting the tray on the bedside table, he went back to her and kissed her long and hard until she went soft against him. “Starving.” He released her and sat on the edge of the bed. She looked cute and sexy, her hair a mass of curls around her face, her mouth swollen from his kisses. She’d pulled on matching shorts and a camisole in pink with little gray hearts. The top hugged her full breasts, her nipples clearly visible, and his dick came to instant life under the towel.

Presumably this was what she normally slept in, but it wasn’t enough to go roaming around in a house full of men. He hated the thought of Harry seeing her like this. Or Tom. Or even the goddamn dogs.

He’d never been possessive. Another of his codes of conduct.

“Should you be wandering around like that?” The question just slipped out.

She cast him a surprised look. “Why?”

“Because I can see your nipples.”

She peered down. “Oh,” she said then gave a shrug. “No one was up yet.” She poured coffee and handed him a cup. “Eat.”

He helped himself to a plate of rolls and cheese, ham, and smoked salmon.

“I just got whatever was in the fridge.” She perched on the chair next to the bed and nibbled a roll.

He was quiet for a minute while he ate and tried not to think about the possessive thing. He devoured three rolls, drank two cups of coffee and finally relaxed back, replete. At least his stomach was replete; the rest of him was definitely feeling needy.

“What are you doing today?” she asked. “Do you need to go in to work?”

He did actually. There were things he should do. But he didn’t want to go to work. He wanted to stay right here. “Let’s not go in to work today.”

She peeked up at him. “What should we do instead?”

“Stay in bed.”

“All day?”

“Yeah. Stock up on provisions. Barricade the door and maybe work through some of those fantasies of yours. You want to describe a few?”

Color flushed across her cheekbones, and she blinked a couple of times then shook her head.