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And that’s where the issues were. Last night with Murphy had been amazing, best sex she’d ever had, best everything with a man honestly. That walk they’d taken in the park, the kiss they’d shared on the carousel, all the stuff afterward—perfect. So perfect, in fact, she could see herself falling for him in a major way and that wasn’t possible. Her family was just now getting over her breaking it off with Daveed. They’d just started speaking to her again. If she brought home an American SEAL as the love of her life, her parents would flip. Then there was the not so small matter of his reputation. She’d heard Daveed and Heath talking about Murphy’s womanizing ways before, when they thought she wasn’t listening. She’d just gotten out of one bad relationship. She didn’t need to run headlong into another one, no matter how tempting.
Besides, Murphy was too distraught over his sister’s disappearance to make any rational judgements about his emotional future at this point. They were too opposite, too different, too… good together. All he had to do was look at her and awareness buzzed inside her like a swarm of hot bees. All he had to do was touch her and her muscles turned to liquid honey. All he had to do was kiss her and she forgot all of her good sense and wanted nothing more than to stay with him forever.
He’d never once mentioned wanting anything more than last night. For her to dream of something more with him now would only court pain and grief.
Nope. Shayma was done dreaming of impossible situations with impossible men. She’d had more than her fair share of that growing up engaged to Daveed. She’d not lock herself in that kind of prison again.
After rolling over onto her back and placing a quick kiss on Murphy’s pouting lips—he seemed sad, even in his sleep—she slid carefully out from under his arm so as not to wake him and tiptoed to the bathroom.
She showered and dried her hair, then wrapped a towel around herself and headed out to Aileen’s dresser, hoping the woman wouldn’t mind her stealing a clean pair of undies and a pair of jeans to go with the Santa sweatshirt she’d bought for herself at the Christmas store. She should’ve gone back to the hotel and packed a bag for herself last night, but if she’d done that she might’ve missed what happened between her and Murphy. Besides, she didn’t want to risk walking in on Mel and Daveed in bed.
Panties on, she searched for her bra then snatched a pair of jeans and her sweatshirt from the shopping bag. Thankfully, Murphy still snored away in bed while she pulled on her new outfit. The sweatshirt was too big and the jeans a tad short, but it worked. She pulled on her socks then headed into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. It was early still, only a quarter past five, so once she fixed herself a mug of energy she curled up on the sofa and admired the lovely tree.
Murphy woke up a short time later and grumbled his way to the bathroom, completely naked and seemingly uncaring about it. Heat prickled her cheeks, not that she had any reason to be embarrassed around him, especially after the filthy, wonderful things they’d done to each other last night. She couldn’t help sneaking a peek at his fine, bare ass as he walked into the bathroom, not missing the love bites on his neck and shoulders before he shut the door behind him. Yep. She’d done that. Pride and heat coiled inside her. She’d do it again too, if given the chance.
No regrets.
Her stomach rumbled and she set her coffee aside to go in search of food in the kitchen. She found the ingredients to make pancakes and had just fired up Aileen’s stove when Murphy emerged from the bathroom, a wet towel slung around his hips and a wicked grin on his face. He padded over and gave her a thorough kiss.
“Mornin’, darling,” he said, winking.
Cheeks prickling, she suddenly couldn’t meet his gaze and turned away. “Morning. I’m making pancakes.”
“Good.” His footsteps were solid against the hardwood floor as he walked away to get dressed. “I need to find out who that senator was that went to EnKor so I can pay him a little visit today. Need my strength for that. After you drained me of all I had last night.”
The double entendre wasn’t lost on her and she began making pancakes in earnest, anything to keep busy and out of dangerous territory. He seemed totally okay with what happened between them and she wanted to be too, but she also wanted to be clear about what this was—a fling, nothing more.
She flipped the pancake in her pan as he came up behind her and reached past her to get a mug out of the cupboard, dropping a kiss on her cheek as he brushed by her.
“Hey,” she said, her throat oddly constricted. “We’re good with last night being a fling, right?”
Shayma tried to keep her tone light and breezy but failed miserably, if his slight flinch was any indication. Surely he didn’t want more between them, did he? Of course he didn’t, she chastised herself. He’d never given her any indication that he was anything other than horny last night and that she was nothing more than a temporary nuisance in his life. He was just trying to be polite this morning, that was all. Had to be.
Murphy gave a small shrug and took a seat at the breakfast bar. “Right. Just a fling.”
His voice held a slight gruffness that she put down to him not being a morning person either, though from what Daveed had told her all three of the guys were used to getting up at the ass crack of dawn from their years in the military and used that to their advantage. Her heart pinched. Could he have wanted more with her? Had she hurt him in some way by calling last night just a fling?
Her hands shook as she slid two pancakes out of the pan and onto a plate. If Murphy wanted more with her, would she be willing to give him that? Earlier she’d thought no, but now, with him being so sweet to her and them acting like a normal couple this morning, she could see a life with him. A life with kids and a home and a future.
“Hurry up with that food, please.” His brusque, Grinch-esque tone from the night before had returned in spades and her hopes sank. “I’ve got work to do.”
5
Murphy managed to hold back a cringe through sheer force of will. Jesus. What the hell was wrong with him? Even his father, who’d been a career Army Ranger, had never sounded so damned authoritarian, barking orders at people like they were his servants or something.
He clenched his jaw and scowled down into his coffee mug. The morning had started so promising too. Memories of their night together had made for extremely pleasant dreams and he’d hoped to continue his explorations of Shayma’s delectable body, maybe take her out to eat, then come back here to the apartment and cuddle on the sofa while he continued to search for the mysterious senator who now seemed like his best lead on his missing sister’s case.
Then, of course, he’d woken up alone and Shayma had just now blown him off with her “it’s just a fling” spiel. In the back of his mind, he had to wonder if the sinking knot of tension in his gut was how all the women in his past had felt when he’d basically told them the same thing.
Fuck.
With a snort, he shook his head. This was so stupid. He was so stupid. What did he care if Shayma said this was only a one-night stand? He should be frigging overjoyed. One less thing he had to worry about. After all, that’s exactly what he’d wanted, right?
He squeezed his mug tighter. Then why the hell did if feel like someone had sucker punched him in the nuts?
Murphy shifted on his stool and looked up as Shayma slid a plate of food in front of him. Her smile was a tad less sunny and a whole lot frostier now than it had been earlier. And he couldn’t blame her. He was acting like a Grade A dick, all because he’d broken his cardinal rule. The one piece of advice his father had given that was actually worth something. Never trust a woman.
Sure, he’d never intended to trust Shayma, had never intended a lot of things where she was concerned, but here he was—staring down at a plate of homemade pancakes shaped like tiny Christmas trees and feeling like a total schmuck.
