“I trust that it’s real,” I say finally. “I don’t know yet if it lasts.”
Jamie smiles softly. “That’s all anyone ever knows.”
I let that sit.
Later, alone, I think about Derek in a way I haven’t let myself in weeks.
Not as a problem.
Not as something to fix.
Just as a man I still want. A man I find attractive and sexy as hell. A man I would love to spend time in bed with, naked and writhing.
I don’t attach meaning to that yet.
I don’t have to.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
AUDRA
He showsup at seven fifty-eight.
Not early enough to feel like nerves.
Not late enough to feel casual.
It’s exactly the kind of timing that tells me he thought about it—and then stopped himself before it became something else.
I open the door barefoot, apron still tied at my waist.
He’s in dark jeans and a deep teal button-down, sleeves pushed up. The color sharpens his eyes in a way that makes me pause for half a beat longer than I intend.
That color looks amazing on him. Shows off his gorgeous eyes. Sexy.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi.”
He steps inside when I move aside. No reach. No kiss. Just presence.
He holds out a bottle of wine.
He smells so good. Just like him. The scent I haven't forgotten.
“I brought this,” he says. “No expectations attached.”
“Thank you,” I say. “Counter.”
He sets it where I point.
“Stay out of my way,” I add, already turning back toward the kitchen.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I hear him moving behind me—not toward the stove, but away. When I glance over my shoulder, he’s wandering the living room slowly, hands loose at his sides, taking things in without touching.
The framed print over the couch.
