“Yeah, he is,” I agree.
“But you can’t let go of his opinion of your body.”
“I guess not.”
“You need a second opinion,” Luke says bluntly. “So here’s mine. Your body is perfect just as it is.”
The words wrap around me like a caress.
“I have a confession,” he says softly. “When I saw you in the ER that first day, I was so distracted by your breasts. I was ashamed of myself, because I was your daughter’s doctor, and I was dreaming of how your breasts would feel in my hands. And how it would feel to squeeze your ass.”
He moves his hands down to grip my ass, and I sigh with pleasure.
“And you know what?” Luke says. “It feels better than I imagined. You were always hot, Milly, but now . . . it’s so much better.” His voice deepens. “And I love that I can fuck you into the mattress without worrying that you’ll break.”
“Luke,” I breathe.
“And there’s no room in our bed for another man’s opinion of your body,” Luke continues. “Promise you’ll try to let go of Troy’s.”
“Okay.” I’ve been trying to let go of Troy’s opinion for almost a year, but for the first time, I think I might actually be able to do it.
“We’ll work on it together,” Luke says softly. He reaches over to turn off the bedside lamp, then wraps his arm around me again.
TWENTY-NINE
MELISSA
I wake to the sound of my doorbell ringing. At first I try to ignore it, because I really don’t want to move. Luke’s still fast asleep, with one leg hitched over my hip, and I’m not sure I can get up without waking him. Really, the polite thing to do is to stay in bed.
But whoever’s at my door clearly doesn’t care about being polite, because the bell rings again. My phone rings next, and I scrabble for it on the nightstand but come up empty. I realize it’s still in my purse, on the floor, and I squirm out from under Luke.
But before I can swing my legs over the side of the bed, a strong arm pulls me back. Luke tucks me into his side, and his hand settles right under my breast. The warmth of his body feels delicious.
“Stay,” he mumbles.
“Can’t,” I say apologetically. “Troy could be calling about the kids.” Logic tells me it’s not Troy—it’s probably my mother, and she’s probably at my door, because no one else would come so early. But I still can’t ignore my phone.
Luke reluctantly lets me up, and I unearth my phone tofind a missed call from my mother. She’s texted, too, to say she’s at my door. I consider texting back to say I’m still asleep, but knowing my mother, that won’t put her off.
“My mother’s here.”
“Ignore her,” Luke says, a little more awake now. “She’ll leave eventually.”
“She doesn’t work that way, unfortunately.” I shimmy into a shirt and sweatpants to go down to confront my mother.
“Morning, Melissa,” Mom says cheerfully, as soon as I pull the door open. She’s wearing a full face of makeup and looking fresh as a daisy. “I’ve been to the farmers’ market, and I picked up some apples for you. Paula Red. The farmer said they were just picked yesterday.”
“Great. Thanks.” I reach for the bag of apples, but she doesn’t hand it over.
“I’ll carry them into the kitchen for you,” she announces, walking past me into the house. “I thought you might like some company, since the kids are in Toronto.”
“It’s actually not a good time for me, Mom.” Clearly, my talk about needing some space failed to penetrate. And she must know I’ve got company, since Luke’s car is parked behind mine in the driveway.
“Oh, do you have plans?” she asks casually. “Should I put the apples in the fridge? The crisper drawer?”
We both turn at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. A moment later, Luke joins us in the kitchen, naked save for a pair of boxer briefs that showcase his very substantial assets. He hasn’t shaved, and there’s a tuft of hair sticking up near the back of his head. It’s obvious he just rolled out of bed.
My mother gapes at him for a minute before looking away.
