Page 25 of Risk of a Lifetime
Her gaze flowed down his lean, muscled body from his shoulders to his chest to the tan line riding low on his hips. She fought to keep from following the dark line of hair from his belly downward. After all, the man was sick. They were divorced. He’d made it clear he wasn’t back in town for her. Wasn’t planning to stay. She shouldn’t…she damn well shouldn’t.
She lost the battle as she skimmed the rest of the way down. He was still the hottest man she’d ever seen. Not that she’d seen anyone else but JB in her life. Damn it was hot in this room. She flicked on the fan switch on the wall.
Turning back the covers on the bed, she pushed him to sit. “Now lie down, and go to sleep. If you aren’t better by morning, I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“No. No more doctors.” As he slid under the sheet, his hand covered hers. “Stay with me, Marcy.”
Stay?
She eased her hand away. “Probably not a good idea. Get some rest.”
Looking at JB, all muscle and need and the man she loved, she knew it would be more than easy to slide alongside him. Easy to give everything she had to him again. In fact, her body pulsed and ached with the thought of what his words meant. Did she? Did she dare let him know the power he held over her?
No.
He’d broken her heart twice already—the second time when he’d signed the divorce papers. The first time had been when he’d told her he wanted to join the FBI.
After her dad had been killed on the job, her mother had moved the family back to Crayton. Nothing bad would follow them to such a small town. Especially one where the sheriff was the girls’ uncle. Being young, she hadn’t realized what her mother meant. Being grown-up, she knew exactly what that statement meant.
Marcy wanted children, and she didn’t ever want to have to worry over things like that. She didn’t want to wonder every night if her children’s dad was just late getting home or if the unthinkable had happened. No, she wouldn’t give JB any sign that she might still care. Even if he wasn’t a Bureau agent any longer, he’d still head to another job with law enforcement once his dad’s estate was signed off on.
Unless he decided to stay in Crayton. Join the police department again.
Now wouldn’t that be just dandy? She’d always known there were plenty of women in town who’d love to take him off her hands. Some single…some not so single. What if he chose one of them, and Marcy and the happy couple ended up living down the street from each other? That would mean she’d see them holding hands, kissing, dancing so close everyone would know what was going to happen at home that night.
Damn. Damn. Damn. What was wrong with her? With those thoughts bouncing around her brain, not only did her shoulder ache from her wound, so did her heart. That was one of the hardest parts about filing divorce papers—the thought of him in another woman’s arms.
The sound of his already-asleep breathing made her smile. Almost with a mind of their own, her fingers lightly brushed through his dark hair. Down his cheek. Across his shoulder.
Whew. She needed to walk away fast. Take a shower. Scurry into a sleep shirt and tonight, even into a pair of panties.
She left his door open a bit in case he needed anything later. Tomorrow morning he should be better. If not, she meant what she’d said about the hospital. How she’d get him there she didn’t know, because he was one stubborn man when it came to doctors. He’d always been stubborn.
Then again, so was she. After all, she had taken her own advice and let JB go. Let him follow his dream. Let him stay gone. She could have gone to find him, but…
Finally feeling tired enough to sleep, she locked the front door and turned out the lights. She climbed into bed and scrunched her pillow before snuggling into the softness.
“Marcy! Marcy, where are you?” JB’s anguished shout filled the air.
In the darkness, she rushed to his side and flipped on the bedside lamp. Still asleep, his head rolled from side to side. His face a contortion of pain and panic. His arms flailed at the covers.
“Marcy!”
“I’m here, JB. Open your eyes, I’m here.” She crawled in bed beside him, grabbed one arm, and soothed his face with her other hand. “You’re dreaming. It’s only a dream.”
He jerked awake, then engulfed her in his arms. His soft kisses pressed into her hair. “I couldn’t find you. I searched everywhere, but you weren’t there.” His voice echoed his emotions. “I thought I lost you for good.”
“No, JB. You didn’t lose me.” She felt herself swept into the moment and stayed close by his side. In all likelihood, he’d just relived the explosion in nightmare form. “I’m right here. See? Right here.”
He rolled out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the air. Wiping his face with a towel when he returned, he looked awake and alert.
“Whatever’s in that pain med zonked me good.” He lay down in bed and offered his arm for her to snuggle inside his hold. “Stay here tonight. I promise I won’t try anything. Just stay here with me.”
“Okay.” Sometimes her mouth had a habit of speaking before she thought things through. Oh, well…one night wouldn’t hurt. And JB always kept his promises.
Still, how could she be sure? She was about to backtrack and tell him no way when her traitorous body folded against him, her leg automatically slipped across his, her cheek nestled into the crook of his shoulder, and her hand rested on his chest. It might have been three years since she’d touched his bare skin, but her body remembered the markers, the paths, the man.
Oh, how she remembered the man…
