All That Matters by Loralee Lillibridge

mesmerized, as the tip of her tongue slid out and slowly circled her mouth. His nervous system was anything but relaxed. Wired was more like it. A rocket ready to launch. Didn’t matter, though. He’d have to keep those twinges of longing to himself.   Just friends, Walker. Remember that.
    “ Mmmm , I love pizza, don’t you?” She smiled and reached for another slice. “I’m sorry this turned out to be such a horrible day.” She touched his arm, suddenly full of sympathy.   “Does your nose still hurt?”
    “No, not a bit.” Hell, yes.   He helped himself to more pizza. It hurt to chew, but he was too hungry to care. And he sure wasn’t going to admit to a little bit of pain. Not on your life. He was supposed to be the rescuer here.
    She passed him a bottle of water. He took it and wished for a cold beer. And pain pills. And all the things he knew could never be.
    “This is absolutely the worst predicament I’ve ever put us in, isn’t it?” Faith’s voice was soft, but he heard her loud and clear.
    They were stretched out side by side on the sleeping bag, Buddy Lee struggling to put more space between his rigid body and Faith’s soft, tempting one. This was a whole lot different than sleeping on the sofa while she’d been occupying his bed. At least then, there’d been the bedroom wall between them. He tried not to think about how close they were now.
    The swirled pattern of the apartment’s Berber carpet had already imprinted itself in his shoulder, right next to the teeth marks from the bag’s zippered edge. Careful not to breach the six or so inches separating them, he shifted to find a more comfortable position. There was none. If he moved his arm forward, he’d touch the softness of her shoulder. If he moved his leg to straighten it, he’d brush against the smooth length of hers. If he didn’t make either of those moves, he’d likely die of frustration. He wanted to touch her and knew he shouldn’t. Their marriage was just on paper.
    Rolling over on his side, he propped himself up on one elbow to gaze down at her. With his knuckles, he gently coaxed her face toward his. He wanted to see her eyes when they spoke.   Needed to search for answers in their depths—to have her look at him with the same longing that curled inside his gut. Wanted to watch those soft lips curve into a smile. Man, he was turning to mush. Correction. Not all parts of his anatomy. Nope, certain parts were painfully hard.
    “Buddy Lee, did you hear what I said?”
    “Hmmm?” Her eyes were the clearest, richest green he’d ever seen. Her mouth was full, ripe, and he wanted ....
    Her forefinger poked at his chest. “You’re not even listening, are you?”
    With her face so close and her mouth so lush and inviting, did she really expect him to make conversation, for cryin ’ out loud?
    “Sorry,” he mumbled, his gaze never straying from her mouth.
    She frowned, and he resented being distracted from the totally enticing images floating around in his mind.
    “Honestly, Buddy Lee, aren’t you the least bit upset? I mean, this time I really got us in deep.” She trailed her hand down the long, taut muscle of his forearm until her fingers met his.   Stayed there.
    He made a fist around her hand, but kept staring at her mouth. Couldn’t tear his gaze away. He should say something, but no words came out. All he wanted was to capture a taste of her lips. Yeah, his mouth on hers.   Her mouth on....
    With a sudden, painful return to reality, he rocketed off the sleeping bag. “Upset? Upset? Hell, yes, I’m upset.” Shedidn’t know the half of it. Sweet mercy, he needed to find a tub full of ice and jump in. Diving in head first would be even better. Why had he ever thought he could be married to Faith without touching her? He was no saint. Didn’t want to be.
    He paced the room, careful to keep his back to her. When his body relaxed so he could finally turn around, she was watching him through eyes wide and damp.