That was why I made some questionable decisions with espresso shots at the coffee cart this afternoon. Smart? Probably not. Effective? I fucking hoped so. I wasn’t about to be that guy who passed out on her night after night. I wouldn’t keep going to her place after work if I couldn’t stay awake long enough to at least give her some attention. It didn’t have to be sex. I was happy hearing about her procedures and her weekly lunch date with Dr. Mercer. I could listen while she complained about Brie’s plan to meet their father. I’d listen to any random thing that crossed her mind. I wanted to be with her and I wanted her to feel like being with me was worth her time.
And I liked the way she always nestled up next to me in the night. I woke up with her wrapped around me or tucked into my lap every morning. I couldn’t get enough of it.
I also wanted to give Mason as much space as possible. He was doing all right, far better than his first few drunken and disastrous days here. He had a lot of decisions on his hands and he’d made it clear he needed to process those on his own. I’d discovered this when I asked about his day and he told me that he had enough problems without me hovering.
So. That was where we were with that.
Over the weekend, Whit pushed me to get Mason in touch with an attorney. She passed along a name, someone who was a vascular surgeon’s wife and willing to carve out some time as a favor to Whit. Mason got some good advice and a referral to a lawyer who could help him back home, and that was handy seeing as Florrie let him know that she filed for divorce.
I assumed it was her father who’d moved that process along. He never liked Mason. He wanted more for Florrie—whatevermorewas to him.
Regardless of the family drama and the mess of this whole thing, I still couldn’t comprehend how simple it was to end a marriage. Maybe it was naïve of me but it seemed like it should take more than a few signatures to end something that was supposed to last a lifetime.
For all that it was worth, Florrie apologized when she called to tell him about starting the divorce proceedings. Apparently, she regretted the way it all happened and she said she didn’t mean to hurt him. She mentioned nothing about all the lying she’d done previously but I had to give her credit for being honest now. Mostly because Mason appreciated the call. He believed she was sorry. He told me she sounded genuine.
I decided to let that be. I’d never managed to change his opinions on Florrie anyway.
Henry
Just finished here. Is it too late?
Whitney
No. Come over.
Henry
You should be in bed, young lady.
Whitney
I am in bed.
Henry
Say no more. I’m on my way.
Whitney
Let yourself in.
Henry
Believe me, I will.
I foundWhit propped up against her pillows, a book resting on her legs and my fleece zipped up to her throat. Her face was shiny from the nighttime oils and creams she used and her hair was tucked over her ears. She looked warm and sleepy andwonderful. I loved everything about it but more than that, I loved coming home to her at the end of the day.
I pulled my shirt over my head and dropped it to the floor. “You didn’t have to wait up for me.”
She lifted a shoulder. “Mmm. I wanted to.” Her gaze dipped to my waist as I unbuckled my belt. I nearly choked when she ran the tip of her tongue along her upper lip. “Salas came in today with her baby. Did you see them?”
“Yep.” I kicked off my pants. Her brows lifted. “Salas made me hold the kid while she went to the bathroom. Some things never change.”
She laughed. “Did you notice how the baby isn’t named Whitney? Not even the middle name either.”
“Hate to break it to you, honey, but you were never going to win that one.” I set her book on the nightstand and I brought my hands to her face, cupping her jaw and sliding my fingers into her hair. I bent down to kiss her. “Hi.”
Her eyes brightened with a smile. “Hi.”
