“Let your husband carry your bags, Cora,” I say, my voice low, a command but also a plea.
Her lips part slightly, her eyes narrow, and for a moment I think she’s about to fight with me again. But then she takes a small step back and surrenders the duffel. I take it from her with ease, tossing it over my shoulder.
I turn and carry both bags into the house. Cora closes the front door behind us, and I incline my head up the stairway.
“Both my room and the guest room are upstairs,” I explain before making my way up. I hear her soft footsteps behind me on the stairs.
I make my way down the hallway and stop outside her door, flipping on the hallway light switch and then reaching into the guest room and flipping that one on as well.
I hold out an arm, gesturing to her room with an exaggerated flourish.
She snorts, her eyes sparkling. She walks in, looking around. The room is small, but it’s got a queen-sized bed, a nightstand, and a dresser. Hopefully to her liking.
“My room is this one,” I say, pointing to the door right across the hallway. “And the bathroom is right down there.” I point. “We’ll have to share it, but I’m a quick shower-taker,” I say with a small smile.
She grins, coming back out into the hallway, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her dress. “I’m more of an evening showerer anyway,” she admits. “Makes more sense to showerafterworking at a ranch all day rather than before.”
“Same,” I admit.
“Well, then I’ll try not to take up too much evening shower time.”
I wave off her comment. “We’ll figure it out.”
I clear my throat uncomfortably. We’re talking about showering.Showering. And now I’m thinking of Cora inmyshower, next to all my soaps and shampoo, wrapping herself in one of my towels, and suddenly my head feels a bit fuzzy.
Cora chuckles softly, staring down at her bare feet. She must’ve taken off her flats at the front door. “Probably not your typical wedding night, huh?”
I nod. “Yeah. I bet not many freshly married couples go to sleep in separate rooms.”
“Maybe after a month or two, but night one?” Cora says, smirking. “I’ll bet we broke a record.”
“A record we have to keep to ourselves because, you know …”
Cora’s eyebrows rise in remembrance. “Right. According to everyone else, we spent the evening having wild, passionate sex.”
I almost choke on my own saliva, but I swallow thickly and nod. “Yep. That.”
She’s chewing on her lip now, not looking at me. And her cheeks have returned to that perfect shade of pink I’d noticed earlier. “Well … I should probably go to sleep. I know it’s not all that late, but today was …”
“A lot,” I finish for her.
She nods, her gaze finally meeting mine. “A lot.”
We stand there awkwardly for a second. I should really just say goodnight and let her get some sleep. But it feels wrong just turning around and leaving her here. Wrong and awkward and strange. But before I can think up something acceptable to do or say, Cora spans the distance between us, wrapping her arms gently around my torso, her cheek to my chest.
A small sigh escapes me, and I wrap my arms around her small body, hugging her against me not nearly as tightly as I want to.
“Thank you, Theo,” she says softly.
“Of course,” I whisper, and without thinking, I press a soft kiss to the top of her head. It’s not sexual or even that romantic in nature. It just feels … right.
Cora pulls back, smiling up at me softly. “Goodnight,” she says, slinging her duffel over her shoulder and then rolling her suitcase into her room.
“Goodnight,” I say before she shuts her door.
I turn around and head into my bedroom, shutting the door and then leaning my head against it with a sigh. It’s going to take a hell of a lot of self-control not to think about my wife, naked, in my fucking shower.
Chapter seven
