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“Do you need some help with that?” I wiggled my bottom, and he groaned.
“Sorry. It has a mind of its own,” he said.
“I don’t mind.”
“I’ll just take a cold shower and be ready soon.”
“Didn’t you take a shower last night?”
“I did. Apparently, it wasn’t enough. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
He climbed out of bed and stumbled out of the bedroom, walking awkwardly either because he was barely awake, or his erection was in the way.
A little while later, he walked into the kitchen with a white T-shirt and jeans on, and his hair was still a little wet. My stomach did a little somersault.
“I made some breakfast for us,” I said, pointing to his mug of coffee. “Black, right?”
He smiled. “Right.”
He took a long sip of the brew and I watched him, waiting for him to mention getting into bed with me. “I’m sorry if I woke you last night.”
His knuckles whitened around the mug. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”
I frowned. “Why? I’m not complaining that you came into my bed.”
“I’m the reason you’re having nightmares in the first place.”
I blinked, watching to see if he was serious. His face didn’t change. He was serious.
“What are you talking about?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “If I hadn’t faked that kidnapping, you wouldn’t be having nightmares about it.”
“You think the nightmare was about being kidnapped?”
“It sounded like it to me.”
I pursed my lips, wondering if I’d said something in my sleep or if his guilt led him to that conclusion. Either way, I would disabuse him of that notion.
“The nightmare had nothing to do with the kidnapping. It was about my father.”
I turned and filled my mug, even though I’d only drunk three-quarters of it. But I didn’t want him looking too closely at me.
“I’m sorry. When did he die?”
“Oh, my father isn’t dead. He’s alive and well, living with his new family in Connecticut.”
I sipped my coffee and changed the subject. “So, since today is Saturday, and I don’t have any pressing clients, what are we going to do today?”
He looked down and around, fidgeting with his mug. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I smiled. He looked less inclined to talk about it than I did. “No. Not really. I’d rather talk about the weekend.”
“Well, Will is going to come by here and stay with you while I check on some things.”
“What things?” I brought the mug to my lips and watched him over the rim. He was fidgeting again.
“Just some stuff.”
