I fumble for a topic of conversation to distract me from that line of thought. “When do you start work at your new job?”
“Next week,” she says through a yawn, half eaten plate of food forgotten on the bed. She fidgets, nearly sending it crashing to the floor. I chuckle, moving it off to the side and position her around me. The full sized bed is barely enough room for the two of us, and I’m not quite ready to pop the bubble of contentment I’m feeling, so I scoot close enough so she can rest her head on my shoulder.
I don’t know what’s worse. Having her this close after all these years, or not being able to do anything about it.
“You excited about it?” I ask, my voice low as her lids start to droop. She mumbles something, nodding against my chest until her eyes flutter closed. “That’s my girl,” I whisper, running a hand over her hair.
We doze on and off, and I can’t remember a time when I slept as peacefully as I do with her in my arms. When I wake a couple hours later, the static from the T.V. in the background and the scent of her shampoo surrounding me, my first reaction is to kiss her awake.
The thought of tasting her again after all these years jerks me the rest of the way awake, and I shift her out of my arms and sit up, rubbing a hand across my face. I get to my feet and glance back, finding her awake. Covering my own confusion with a grin, I say, “I’m gonna grab you another cup of water and check on the boys. Why don’t you grab a shower?”
She frowns. “Are you trying to hint that I stink?”
I hold my hands up and start backing away. “I would never say such a thing.” When she scoffs and jumps to her feet, I shout at her back, “I promise I won’t dig around in your underwear drawer!”
With her safely tucked in the bathroom and out of my reach, I check on the boys and clean up the mess in the kitchen. As I put away the dishes and wipe down the tables and countertops, I force myself away from thoughts of Sofie naked and wet just a few feet away. The boys are amusing themselves with a movie in the living room, for fuck’s sake.
The bathroom door opens with a click and I straighten, my gut tightening. Steam billows out and her head peeks through the crack in the door. Water drips down her tanned skin and splatters on the floor at her bare feet.
“Jack,” she says with her brows raised. Shit, had I missed something?
I toss the dirty washcloth I was using to wipe down the sticky counters and the sink. Turning, I say to a spot about two feet above her head, “Yeah?”
“I said could you grab me some clothes. I forgot to get some.”
“Yeah, sure.” Fuck my life. The last thing I want to be doing is touching her bras and panties and thinking of her wearing them.
“Thanks. They’re just in the office in my suitcase. I haven’t got around to unpacking yet.”
“Right,” I mutter and book it as far away from her as I can get.
It’s only been a couple of days, and already the house is starting to feel like hers, smell like hers. I groan, instantly regretting my decision to help her fix up the place. Her suitcase is splayed open on the desk and I rifle through it, randomly grabbing the first things my fingers come in contact with.
The door to the bathroom is still propped open so I slip through, setting the clothes on the sink. Her body is a striking silhouette on the other side of the shower curtain, but even with the barrier between us, I can see she’s grown into her generous curves.
“Will these work?” I ask when I manage to get my voice back.
She glances out the curtain offering me a tantalizing view of her shoulder. Her laugh breaks me from my fantasies about exactly what I would do to her there. “You forgot a shirt, genius,” she says.
I groan. “Fine. Your plate is ready when you get out. Do you need anything else?”
“No, thanks. You really didn’t have to do all this,” she says from the other side of the curtain.
“I know. Consider this a favor owed if it makes you feel any better.” With any luck, I can get the repairs on this place knocked out, the gym squared away, and then get the hell out of dodge, where the most tempting thing will be which MRE to eat for dinner.
“Not that I asked you to help, but fine,” she says. “I can owe you one.”
“We’re on a fast track to becoming besties. I can feel it,” I tell her to dispel the growing tension.
She chuckles and I have to turn away from the sight of her breasts outlined in the light coming through the window. I can barely hear her response over the blood rushing from my brain straight to my dick. “Well, you’ve held my hair while I puked and played with my underwear. I’d say you’re closer than Livvie and me at this point.”
“I don’t know how to process Livvie and your underwear in the same sentence, so I’m going to ignore all of that and go grab your shirt. Then Doctor Jack says it’s time for breakfast.”
“Yes, doctor.”