Take Me Home for Christmas (Whiskey Creek #5)(39)
Author: Brenda Novak

“Would it be any different for us?”

“We’re both ready for a relationship.”

“We’re also a little drunk and sex-starved,” she said with another laugh.

“We have to take charge of our lives sometime, go for what we want. I can’t imagine finding anyone better than you.”

What was he doing? Part of him felt as if he was racing full-throttle toward a cliff just to escape Sophia. But the other part, the more insistent part, said there was no reason he couldn’t love the right woman for a change.

She peered more closely at him. “You’re not talking about just one night?”

“Of course not. I would never use you that way. We could be a couple, couldn’t we?”

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips—evidence that he was making her nervous. “That’s a sweet offer. I adore you, you know that. And you’re gorgeous. I won’t pretend I’ve never noticed. But…why now? We’ve known each other for ages, and you’ve never hit on me before.”

“Maybe we’ve both been waiting for love to just come upon us. And maybe it doesn’t work like that, at least not for everyone.”

“You’re looking at the situation pragmatically. We’re getting older. We both want a family. We already have a great relationship, so…why not.”

Using the “we haven’t found anyone else” logic wasn’t the most romantic approach, so he tried to soften it. “I’m just saying…who knows what might develop? Why not give it a chance?”

Her laugh sounded more like a giggle, something he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard from her. “I don’t mind telling you that my heart is pounding like crazy.”

“So is mine.” He reached out to her. “Come here. Let’s see what it feels like to touch you.”

She moved closer, and straddled him when he pulled her into his lap.

“What do you think?” he asked. “Do we fit together well enough? Could we get in to this?”

She closed her eyes and pressed up against his erection. “You feel good,” she admitted. “So good I’m not thinking clearly. What about our friends…”

He dropped his head back as she increased the pressure. “What about them?”

She kissed his neck, tentatively at first but then with more abandon. “They’ll kill us if we wind up hating each other and refuse to be in the same room together.”

“Most of them are married. They have better things to worry about than what we’re doing. Besides, I could never hate you.”

He was afraid that he was going too far in his efforts to convince her. But she was so warm, so soft and pliable. He was dying to lose himself in her body, to do something, anything, to stop thinking of Sophia.

“I couldn’t hate you, either.” She rocked against him, creating sparks of pleasure. He could make love to her without a problem, just as he’d thought. But could he commit to her, as well? Because taking Eve to bed would be different from being with anyone else. He wouldn’t be able to move on afterward, not if there was any danger it would hurt her.

For a second he panicked, realized he’d be trading away too much. He loved Eve, but he didn’t feel the intense romantic attraction he’d experienced with Sophia. That was what passion felt like. That was what falling in love felt like, falling in love so deeply he didn’t care if he drowned. But Eve was a good woman, a woman who deserved to have the husband and babies she wanted. He could give her that, couldn’t he? Maybe, with time, he could feel about her the way he’d felt about Sophia.

Either way, once she untied her bikini top and let it fall, it was too late to back out.

15

Sophia was still worried about Alexa when she arrived at work the following morning. Her daughter had insisted on going to school despite yesterday’s attack. She was afraid she’d fail math if she didn’t. Her grades were slipping, which was no surprise given everything they were going through. But Sophia didn’t feel good about letting her go to class. Late last night, after spending the entire evening with her and not going out for Halloween at all, Lex had finally broken down and explained what had happened. Babette, the girl she’d hung out with most before Skip died, had turned on her. She’d told Connie, a girl who was often kicked out of school for fighting or ditching, that Alexa had said all kinds of terrible things about her. It was a lie, of course, but Connie had exacted her revenge while everyone else stood around, sealing off Alexa’s retreat and cheering the other girl on.

The whole encounter was senseless and stupid—mean, catty games. Babette enjoyed being the leader of the popular group now that Alexa had been deposed, and Connie was probably enjoying the notoriety her actions brought.

Sophia feared yesterday’s incident might not be the end of it. So she again brought up the possibility of moving. This time, Alexa was amenable to it, but Sophia knew they couldn’t go just yet. Relocating required money they didn’t have. There’d be rent and a car payment, neither of which Sophia was paying now. She would also need some assurance that she’d be able to get a job in their new town or city. She couldn’t risk giving Ted notice until then.

Bottom line, leaving Whiskey Creek wasn’t a viable option at the moment. But she’d promised Alexa they’d shoot for that. Eventually they’d leave and start over somewhere else.

She was so preoccupied when she arrived at Ted’s that she didn’t think too much of it when he didn’t answer the door. Her impression from yesterday was that he preferred to go about his business and leave her to cook and clean as she saw fit. So when she tried the handle and found it unlocked, she let herself in. She was looking up at the third level to determine whether he was on his computer, or maybe showering, when she saw several puddles of water on the floor.

She got a towel out of the cleaning closet and wiped up each one. They led up the stairs, past his office. She assumed he’d been in the hot tub last night and hadn’t bothered to dry off before coming inside, because they led all the way to his bedroom.

Then she spotted something else—a bikini top slung over the bannister. The bottom of the same suit was right outside his bedroom door, in the biggest puddle of all, as if it’d been cast off en route to his bed.

Holy shit! She turned to hurry back down the stairs. She didn’t want to see him with someone else—didn’t want to face the way it would make her feel. But his bedroom door opened at that moment and Eve, of all people, emerged. Wearing his sweats.