Her breath hitched and it was all she could do not to haul him in closer for a firmer, deeper connection.
Pulling back, he started toward the door.
“Tony?” Was that husky voice really hers?
He glanced over his shoulder. So easily she could take the physical comfort waiting only a few feet away in his arms. But she had to keep her head clear. She had to hold strong to carve out an independent life for her and her son and that meant drawing clear boundaries.
“Just because I might be able to forgive you doesn’t mean you’re welcome in my bed again.”
Four
S he wasn’t in her own bed.
Shannon wrestled with the tenacious grip of her shadowy nightmare, tough as hell to do when she couldn’t figure out where she was. The ticking grandfather clock, the feel of the silky blanket around her, none of it was familiar. And then a hint of sandalwood scent teased her nose a second before…
“Hey.” Tony’s voice rumbled through the dark. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
Her heart jumped. She bolted upright, the cashmere afghan twisting around her legs and waist. Blinking fast, she struggled to orient herself to the surroundings so different from her apartment, but the world blurred in front of her from the dark and her own crummy eyesight. Shannon pressed her hands to the cushiony softness of a sofa and everything came rushing back. She was at Tony’s, in the sitting room outside where Kolby slept.
“It’s okay,” Tony continued to chant, squeezing her shoulder in his broad hand as he crouched beside the couch.
Swinging her feet to the ground, she gathered the haunting remnants of her nightmare. Shadows smoked through her mind, blending into a darker mass of memories from the night Nolan died, except Tony’s face superimposed itself over that of her dead husband.
Nausea burned her throat. She swallowed back the bite of bile and the horror of her dream. “Sorry, if I woke you.” Oh, God, her son. “Is Kolby all right?”
“Sleeping soundly.”
“Thank goodness. I wouldn’t want to frighten him.” She took in Tony’s mussed hair and hastily hauled on jeans. The top button was open and his chest was bare. Gulp. “I’m sorry for disturbing you.”
“I wasn’t asleep.” He passed her glasses to her.
As she slid them on, his tattoo came into focus, a nautical compass on his arm. Looking closer she realized his hair was wet. She didn’t want to think about him in the shower, a tiled spa cubicle they’d shared more than once. “It’s been a tough night all around.”
“Want to talk about what woke you up?”
“Not really.” Not ever. To anyone. “I think my fear for Kolby ran wild in my sleep. Dreams are supposed to help work out problems, but sometimes, it seems they only make everything scarier.”
“Ah, damn, Shanny, I’m sorry for this whole mess.” He sat on the sofa and slid an arm around her shoulders.
She stiffened, then decided to hell with it all and leaned back against the hard wall of chest. With the nightmare so fresh in her mind, she couldn’t scavenge the will to pull away. His arms banded around her in an instant and her head tucked under his chin. Somehow it was easier to accept this comfort when she didn’t have to look in his eyes. She’d been alone with her bad dreams for so long. Was it wrong to take just a second’s comfort from his arms roped so thick with muscles nothing could break through to her? She would be strong again in a minute.
The grandfather clock ticked away minutes as she stared at his hands linked over her stomach—at the lighter band of skin where his watch usually rested. “Thanks for coming in to check on us, especially so late.”
“It can be disconcerting waking in an unfamiliar place alone.” His voice vibrated against her back, only her thin nightshirt between them and his bare chest.
Another whiff of his freshly showered scent teased her nose with memories of steam-slicked bodies.
“I’ve been here at least a dozen times, but
Pulling back, he started toward the door.
“Tony?” Was that husky voice really hers?
He glanced over his shoulder. So easily she could take the physical comfort waiting only a few feet away in his arms. But she had to keep her head clear. She had to hold strong to carve out an independent life for her and her son and that meant drawing clear boundaries.
“Just because I might be able to forgive you doesn’t mean you’re welcome in my bed again.”
Four
S he wasn’t in her own bed.
Shannon wrestled with the tenacious grip of her shadowy nightmare, tough as hell to do when she couldn’t figure out where she was. The ticking grandfather clock, the feel of the silky blanket around her, none of it was familiar. And then a hint of sandalwood scent teased her nose a second before…
“Hey.” Tony’s voice rumbled through the dark. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
Her heart jumped. She bolted upright, the cashmere afghan twisting around her legs and waist. Blinking fast, she struggled to orient herself to the surroundings so different from her apartment, but the world blurred in front of her from the dark and her own crummy eyesight. Shannon pressed her hands to the cushiony softness of a sofa and everything came rushing back. She was at Tony’s, in the sitting room outside where Kolby slept.
“It’s okay,” Tony continued to chant, squeezing her shoulder in his broad hand as he crouched beside the couch.
Swinging her feet to the ground, she gathered the haunting remnants of her nightmare. Shadows smoked through her mind, blending into a darker mass of memories from the night Nolan died, except Tony’s face superimposed itself over that of her dead husband.
Nausea burned her throat. She swallowed back the bite of bile and the horror of her dream. “Sorry, if I woke you.” Oh, God, her son. “Is Kolby all right?”
“Sleeping soundly.”
“Thank goodness. I wouldn’t want to frighten him.” She took in Tony’s mussed hair and hastily hauled on jeans. The top button was open and his chest was bare. Gulp. “I’m sorry for disturbing you.”
“I wasn’t asleep.” He passed her glasses to her.
As she slid them on, his tattoo came into focus, a nautical compass on his arm. Looking closer she realized his hair was wet. She didn’t want to think about him in the shower, a tiled spa cubicle they’d shared more than once. “It’s been a tough night all around.”
“Want to talk about what woke you up?”
“Not really.” Not ever. To anyone. “I think my fear for Kolby ran wild in my sleep. Dreams are supposed to help work out problems, but sometimes, it seems they only make everything scarier.”
“Ah, damn, Shanny, I’m sorry for this whole mess.” He sat on the sofa and slid an arm around her shoulders.
She stiffened, then decided to hell with it all and leaned back against the hard wall of chest. With the nightmare so fresh in her mind, she couldn’t scavenge the will to pull away. His arms banded around her in an instant and her head tucked under his chin. Somehow it was easier to accept this comfort when she didn’t have to look in his eyes. She’d been alone with her bad dreams for so long. Was it wrong to take just a second’s comfort from his arms roped so thick with muscles nothing could break through to her? She would be strong again in a minute.
The grandfather clock ticked away minutes as she stared at his hands linked over her stomach—at the lighter band of skin where his watch usually rested. “Thanks for coming in to check on us, especially so late.”
“It can be disconcerting waking in an unfamiliar place alone.” His voice vibrated against her back, only her thin nightshirt between them and his bare chest.
Another whiff of his freshly showered scent teased her nose with memories of steam-slicked bodies.
“I’ve been here at least a dozen times, but
Similar Books
