I awoke to the press of Rhett’s lips on my shoulder. Yellow sunshine streamed through the blinds and puddled on the bed. Rhett shifted beside me, easing onto his side. His hair stood on end, a frazzled, sexy mess. Memories of the many ways he’d fucked me brought a rush of heat to my face.

“Morning, angel,” he said.

“Good morning.” I stretched, trying to be normal, but had no idea how to go about it. The pleasant ache of overused muscles greeted me. I groaned.

“Sore?” he asked. His eyes searched mine. “You were quite the vixen last night.” My temperature increased until my cheeks burned. “I had no idea you were so limber.”

“I do yoga to relieve stress and improve my motor skills. I’m pretty clumsy, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Is it working?” The tips of his fingers tickled along my sternum and down to my tummy.

“What do you think?” I rolled my eyes, thinking of the way I’d tripped over his feet at the chocolate shop.

“I think it’s definitely an asset in the bedroom.” In one deft motion, he moved to the side and onto his feet. “So what do you want to do today? We could go for a walk and visit the ducks again. Anything you want. You tell me.”

“A walk would be nice.” Fresh air and exercise seemed to curb my symptoms. If the brightness outside the window was any indication, it was a beautiful day. “What do you usually do on Sundays?”

“Work out, catch up on personal emails, watch TV.” His gaze roved over me, darkening from their usual gray-blue to charcoal. “On second thought, maybe we should stay in.”

* * *

Rhett knew exactly where to touch me, the way to shift his hips, how to prolong my pleasure while enhancing his. Amy had been a lucky woman. I tried to chase thoughts of her from my head, but it was difficult with so many reminders in the apartment. I understood his reluctance to let her go. I clung to mementos of my mother with both hands, afraid she might slip away altogether if I lost the dear treasures. Rhett deserved his memories, and I’d never begrudge him of them. She was everywhere—her photos on the walls, portraits on the mantel, and feminine touches in the décor. I could get over those things, but it was the wedding band on the bathroom sink that bothered me the most. He’d loved her, married her, and planned for a future with her. Despite the ugliness of their last minutes together, he’d belonged to her. A ripple of jealousy snaked up my spine.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to focus on the present. We both had baggage, and if he could overlook mine, I could most certainly overlook his. One of his hands smoothed up the length of my thigh to grip my hip and squeezed. His skin slid against mine, the friction exquisite. I moaned and nipped his shoulder.

“Does that feel good?” he asked.

“You know it does,” I replied on a sigh. “You’re very good at this.”

This time our lovemaking was slow and languid. He entwined his fingers with mine and stretched my arms over my head. With the full weight of his body on me, I felt every inch of his torso, his taut abdomen, his muscular thighs. Our gazes interlocked, his eyes never leaving mine. My insides trembled. My body was naked, but my soul was bare as well. This was personal and dug up emotions I’d never experienced. He saw past my flaws, the clumsiness, the red hair and freckles, to the real me.

“Pull your knees up,” he whispered. I raised my legs to his waist. Two fingers drifted over the tender spot behind my knee. “Keep them there and don’t put them down until I tell you.”

“I like rules,” I murmured. He shifted, hitting the magic place deep inside me. I moaned, overcome by the pleasure. My fingers tangled in his hair and buried in its thickness. “I like it when you tell me what to do.”

“Do rules make you feel safe?” he asked. The gleam of interest brightening his eyes both excited and thrilled me.

“Yes.”

“Do you want more?” His touch was always gentle, always confident.

“Yes.” I wanted so much more—more of his taste, more of his fingers, more of his tongue.

“Grab the headboard with both hands. Don’t let go unless I tell you.”

I lifted my arms over my head and wrapped my fingers around the bars of the iron headboard. Carrying his weight on his elbows, he twisted his hips sharply to one side then the other. Intense pleasure rocketed into my core. I gasped, overwhelmed by the sensations of fullness and friction. I tried to let go, but his frown stopped me.

“Keep your hands there,” he warned. His lips found my breast. My nipples stung as blood rushed into the tips. His tender touch filled my body with an unresolved ache. “Promise me.”

“I promise.” The bedsprings creaked under the shift of our weight. A spasm fluttered along my inner walls.

“You feel so good, Bronte.” His voice deepened, the edges of his words frayed by lust. “It’s never been like this for me.” The color of his eyes darkened to a rich slate, flecked with navy. “I want to make this last all morning, but I’m going to come.” The tendons stood out on his neck. His thrusts became uncontrolled, desperate, his words guttural. “Oh, God, I can’t— Fuck.”

I rocked into him, clinging to the headboard. His eyes found mine, and the caring in them sent me over the edge. His nostrils flared, the long muscles of his legs tensed, and his body trembled. An orgasm rippled through my center and radiated out to my fingertips. I squeezed the headboard rails until my knuckles ached, tightening my legs around his waist. Our gazes remained locked. I saw the play of emotions in the depths of his eyes—awe, relief, and something primal. The experience transcended intimacy and added another layer to our already complex relationship.

My heart hammered against my ribs. We stared at each other. I didn’t know how to handle the rush of emotions. My analytical brain tried to rationalize my feelings. Sex released dopamine and oxytocin. These feel-good hormones encouraged pair bonding in humans, especially females. What I’d experienced was a trick of Mother Nature, meant to encourage reproduction. All the science in the world couldn’t explain away the insatiable need to smooth his hair, to hold him close, to make him smile.

A rattle from the living room perked my ears. “Did you hear something?”

“No.” He rolled to the side and stretched languidly. Sunlight illuminated the naked expanse of his torso, sparking off the rich brown hair of his chest. One corner of his mouth curled into an ornery grin. “You can let go of the headboard now.”

“Oh.” I bit my lower lip and slowly lowered my arms. My fingers and biceps ached from gripping the bars so tightly.

“I want you to know this isn’t a one-time thing for me. I’m not that kind of guy. I’ve only slept with a couple of women.” While he spoke, he smoothed a fingertip along the midline of my chest, between my breasts and down to my belly button, making me smile. “A few girls in high school, Amy and now you. And Hayden.”

“So you weren’t dating her?” Although his words warmed me, a sliver of jealousy prickled along the back of my neck at the mention of Hayden.

“Oh, hell no. She was a one-night stand. The only one I’ve ever had.” He turned onto his back and folded his arms behind his head to stare at the ceiling. “I met her at a bar. Carter talked me into going home with her. He convinced me that I needed to sleep with someone else to move on from Amy. Huge mistake.”

“She’s pretty.” I bit my lower lip as insecurities erased my confidence.

“You’re prettier.” He turned on his side again, placing a hand on my hip and tugging me toward him. My breasts flattened against his chest. He dropped a kiss on the tip of my nose, my eyelids then my lips. “You have a light inside that gives your skin a glow, and your eyes—I could stare into them all day.”

“Thanks.” I didn’t know what else to say. No one had ever called me pretty. I wasn’t about to argue with him. He’d never lied to me, but I still found it hard to believe. “When I was a kid, my classmates made fun of me for my freckles and red hair. And it didn’t help that I had to ride the short bus to school.”

“You were bullied?” His eyes widened, brimming with sympathy.

“I guess. Jo got expelled for fighting because she was defending me. She had to finish her senior year at a different school.” Remembering caused the walls of my throat to thicken. She’d always had my back, and I’d been hateful to her the last time we’d talked. “The only person who was ever nice to me was Walt. But then I found out he was making fun of me behind my back.” Tears burned my eyes. I blinked them back, determined not to cry over a bastard like him. “He had one of his friends hide in the closet and take pictures while we had sex. Then he passed the pictures around to all his buddies.”

“Motherfucker,” Rhett said. He put a finger beneath my chin, tilting my face up to look at him. “You’re definitely going to this reunion. He’s going to shit when he sees how successful and smart you are, and I want to be there to see it.”

His words, his touch, the sincerity in his eyes—they made me feel hopeful for the future, that maybe I could live a normal life after all.

The wood floor squeaked in the hallway, and a half second later the bedroom door opened. Rhett swore and yanked the sheet over our naked bodies. I twisted to look over my shoulder.

Freya stood in the doorway, eyes wide, and eyebrows raised. The shape of her mouth formed a perfect O. “Oh, no. I’m so—I’m sorry. I didn’t think you were home. I—I just stopped by to bring your laundry.” She backed out of the door, knocking over a chair on her way. The laundry basket landed on the floor with a thud. Her rapid footsteps echoed down the hall. The front door slammed.

Part of me wanted to laugh. The other part was too horrified to speak. Rhett jumped to his feet and jerked his legs into a pair of jeans. He jogged after her, shirtless and barefoot. Ten seconds later, I heard their raised voices from the sidewalk. I wrapped the sheet around my chest and dragged it to the window.

From Rhett’s apartment, I could see them standing beside the street. Freya gestured wildly, her face the color of a ripe tomato. I couldn’t hear their words, but their meaning was unmistakable. He raised his palms into the air, like he was at a loss. Freya stared at him then slapped him hard across the face. She fled across the street to her car. Tires squealed on the pavement as she pulled in front of an approaching truck. Rhett stood on the sidewalk, watching her drive away.

It took a minute for my brain to process my feelings on the current events. Rhett and I had just shared an amazing night, but he’d run after Freya and left me behind. How had she gotten in? She must have a key to his apartment. I’d watched him lock the door before we’d gone to bed last night. If she was doing his laundry, their relationship was more complicated than he’d let on. The realization formed a knot in the pit of my stomach. Panic welled in my chest. Had he been playing me all along? My instincts wanted to believe him, but my past experiences made me doubt my judgement. Maybe Jo was right. Maybe I couldn’t handle a relationship and all the complexities that came with them. I needed to get out of here and fast before I had another panic attack.

While I searched for my clothes, I heard the apartment door open and close. Rhett came into the bedroom. “Hey, where are you going?”

“I should leave,” I said, wiggling into my panties.

He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t let Freya ruin what’s been a great time.”

“No.” I shook my head slowly. “I’m already dysfunctional enough without adding your weirdness to the mix.”

“Bronte, please.” He put a hand on my arm. His fingers were warm and gentle. “Stay.”

“You know how I am. I need stability in my life. I don’t think you’re being honest with me or yourself.” I didn’t have the capability to bullshit or tiptoe around the elephant in the room. “I’m not sure what you’re doing here. With me.”

His hand dropped to his side. “I don’t understand.”

“You already have two women in your life. One of them is dead. One of them is your sister-in-law.” My fingers stumbled over the buttons of my blouse. “You don’t seem to have room for a third.”

His gaze dropped to the floor. I tried to ignore the pain in my chest. I had no desire to be caught in a complicated relationship with a man who didn’t know what he wanted in life. For the first time, I saw my future with clarity—a boyfriend, a nice job, a home of my own. I craved—make that deserved—all of those things. Rhett had made me realize how important they were to me.

“I told you that you’re smarter than me,” he murmured.

By this time, we’d traveled to the living room. I slipped into my shoes. Someone knocked on the door, making us both flinch. Rhett opened the door to Freya. My gaze collided with hers. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her cheeks damp.

“She’s still here,” she said. Disappointment showed in the downward turn of her mouth. “I was hoping we could talk—alone.”

“You’re right. We do need to talk,” Rhett said.

“I knew you’d come to your senses. I got to the end of the block and realized this was my fault. I’ve never told you how I feel.” Freya dropped a hand onto Rhett’s forearm. I bristled with jealousy. “I love you, Rhett.”

My heart dropped to the floor with a sickening smack. She loved him. What if he loved her back? Her confession made me realize just how much I cared for him. I wasn’t ready to give up on us. Not yet. What if it was too late?

“I had no idea,” Rhett replied.

“You can’t be that oblivious,” I said then bit my lower lip, realizing I’d spoken out loud. Again.

Rhett frowned at me but shifted his stance in my direction. “Freya, I wish you would have told me sooner. We could have resolved the issue before it got to this point.”

Triumph flashed in her eyes. “There really isn’t any reason to keep her, is there? I’m sure she has things to do.” She avoided my gaze, but the sickening smirk on her lips revealed her thoughts. She’d won.

“Well, um, I’ll see you around.” Dread tightened my guts. This was it. The end. I ducked my head and took a step toward the hall. I needed to get out of there before my humiliation became unbearable. Last night had been amazing, but I should have known it wasn’t real.

Rhett sidestepped, blocking my exit. “Hang on, Bronte. I want you to hear what I have to say.”

Something in his expression made me linger. A small kernel of hope budded in my chest. “Are you sure?”

He nodded and squeezed my hand. “This concerns you.”

“I don’t—” Freya said, but Rhett lifted a finger, stopping her mid-sentence.

“Freya, I’m going to need your key back,” he said. She sucked in a horrified breath. “You can’t keep barging in here, anytime you want, unannounced. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have been so dependent on you, and we should have set boundaries in the very beginning. I appreciate all the ways you’ve helped me since Amy died, but I think it’s time we both started to move on. You’ve spent too much of your life babysitting me when you should’ve been out in the world, dating and making friends.” Rhett put his arm around my waist, drawing me into his side. “And it’s time to put my life back together.” My arm and waist flushed with his body heat. “I’m going to start by asking Bronte to be my girlfriend.”

I didn’t hear the rest of what he said as blood thundered in my ears. His girlfriend? The strength ebbed from my knees. “Are you ready for that?”

“Sure.” He brushed my hair over my shoulder. His fingers lingered on the curve of my arm, his lips bowing into a smile. “If you’ll have me?”

“Yes.” I smiled back at him until Freya made a small noise of derision.

“What’s wrong with you, Rhett? This isn’t like you at all. She’s obviously got you under some kind of spell.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me.

“Absolutely,” he said. “I’m fucking enchanted.”

We stared at each other. My heart thrilled at the warmth in his gray-blue eyes.

“You can’t be serious.” Freya’s words echoed my thoughts. Was this really happening?

He directed his answer to me. “I’m completely serious. You’re one in a million, Bronte. You make me forget to be sad at night and happy to wake up in the morning. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that way, and I owe it to you.” He traced a finger down the slope of my nose and tapped the tip. A huge, uncontrollable grin stretched my lips.

“How can you act like this? What would Amy say?” Freya’s face crumpled, her eyes glistening with tears. “Don’t you love her?”

“I will always love her,” Rhett said, his eyes still on mine. “She was my first love, but she’s gone, and I have to keep going.”

“You’re a bastard.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Amy would be devastated. You’re dropping her for a donut girl. It’s an insult to her memory.”

Anger flared in Rhett’s eyes. He drew up straight and squared his shoulders. Freya’s eyes widened, and she took a step back. “You can be angry with me all you want, but not one word about Bronte. Do you understand? This is your last warning. I won’t tell you again.”

“Amy loved you so much,” Freya whispered. I heard the true meaning behind her words. She was in love with Rhett. My chest knotted with sympathy, and my animosity toward her dissipated. How long had she been standing by, watching him grieve, waiting for him to heal so she could tell him her feelings? She must be devastated to see him breeze past her and onto someone else, someone like me.

“No, she didn’t. Maybe in the beginning, but definitely not at the end.” Rhett shook his head.

“Don’t talk like that. You were her world. If the situation was reversed, she would never have forgotten about you. Don’t try to make her the bad guy when she can’t defend herself.”

Rhett’s jaw tightened and a muscle twitched in his cheek. “Enough. I’m sick of hearing about how saintly Amy was. Do you know what the last words she said to me were before she died? She said she’d been having an affair with her boss for the past two years, and she wanted a divorce.” I felt a tremor run through his body. I smoothed a hand along his arm, hoping to provide comfort. “We were standing at the crosswalk. She turned and laughed and said she hated the sight of me. She said she’d been seeing her boss for two years, right under my nose, and that she couldn’t believe how stupid I was. I just stood there in shock. Two seconds later, she stepped off the curb without looking, and the bus hit her.”

“That’s not true,” Freya said. The color had drained from her face. She looked smaller, more fragile, and my heart ached for her. Her next words came out in a painful whisper. “I would have known. She would have told me.”

“It’s true. I have no reason to lie about it. I never told anyone because I didn’t want people to remember her that way. After a while, it was easier to pretend we’d never argued than to remember how it ended.” A sad smile tugged his mouth. My respect for him doubled. Even after her death, he’d gone out of his way to protect Amy’s memory and her loved ones’ feelings.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered and put my arms around his shoulders. He buried his face in my neck.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s in the past.”

“You’re just saying these horrible things because of her.” Freya pointed at me. “You’re lying to cover up the way you’re cheating on your wife. I noticed you quit wearing your wedding ring.”

“Freya.” Rhett straightened. “If you don’t believe me, you can read it in her journal. As for the wedding ring?” He exhaled before running a hand through his hair, making the ends stick out in a sexy mess. “If Amy had had her way, I would’ve taken it off a long time ago.”

“In the Catholic church, I believe the acceptable period of mourning for a spouse is one year and one day,” I said. “Although most wedding vows state that the marriage ends at death as in ‘until death do us part.’ Depending upon your religion and culture, you’ve probably met and/or exceeded the requirements. Are you Catholic? I never asked about your religion.”

One corner of Rhett’s mouth curled up while Freya’s eyes bulged. I bit my lower lip as I processed what I’d just said. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Embarrassment flooded my cheeks.

“I’m Methodist,” Rhett said.

“That was insensitive. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He brushed my cheek with the backs of his fingers.

“It’s not okay,” Freya shouted. With shaking hands, she removed Rhett’s key from her keyring and tossed it on the floor. “Here’s your stupid key. I’m not going to stay here any longer and listen to you insult Amy like this.” She stomped out the door, pausing in the hallway. “When you come to your senses, call me.”