When I wake Sunday morning, the sun is well up in the sky, filling our suite with light. I stretch and moan, not surprised to find no residual evidence of our lovemaking from last night. I passed out afterward, so Shane must have cleaned me up.
Shane is usually pretty careful with me, but sometimes he gives full reign to his carefully-controlled aggression, like he did last night. I know why he did it. I was feeling insecure about my place in his life, and he showed me, in no uncertain terms, that he owns me body and soul. That it’s me he wants... and no one else.
I lie in bed for a little while, enjoying the high-rise view out the floor-to-ceiling windows. The sky is a clear, sharp blue today, lovely to behold, and the sight adds to my sense of well being. My body aches deliciously in all the right places, and I feel well loved. I detect a slight twinge deep inside me, perhaps a little tenderness from Shane’s rough thrusts last night, but I don’t mind.
Then reality shatters my tranquility as I’m flooded with memories of Luciana. For a moment, I’m afraid I’m going to be physically sick. I lie still, breathing through my mouth, hoping the sudden wave of nausea will subside.
I know I’m being silly. I trust Shane. And I know, rationally, that if he truly wanted to be with Luciana, he would be. But he’s not with her. He’s with me.
Shane attracts a lot of attention wherever he goes. It’s not just his looks, or his wealth, or his personality. It’s the whole package. He’s a very charismatic man. That’s something I’ll have to learn to deal with, which is not easy for someone like me who’s always had a problem with low self-esteem.
I roll over to face his empty side of the bed and lay my face on his pillow, breathing in his familiar scent. That’s when I notice the little folded note propped against the base of his bedside lamp. It’s addressed To the Future Mrs. McIntyre, written in black ink in Shane’s bold, heavy hand. That makes me smile. I pick up the note and unfold it. “Good morning, sleepyhead. I’ll be downstairs in the fitness center. Txt me when you’re up and we’ll have breakfast. Love you, S.”
It’s no secret that I’m not a morning person. Fortunately, Shane doesn’t hold it against me.
Even though we have a fully-outfitted fitness center right here in the penthouse, Shane likes to use the building’s fitness center every now and then so he can mingle with some of the residents and see how the natives are faring. As the landlord of a residential building with over six hundred residents, he takes his responsibilities very seriously.
Grabbing my phone from my nightstand, I send him a quick text.
I’m up. But don’t rush back. I need a shower.
Then I slip out of bed and head to our bathroom to take care of business. My earlier queasiness passed as quickly as it arrived, and by the time I’m finished with my shower, I feel much better.
After drying my hair and brushing my teeth, I pull on a pair of comfy knit shorts and a baggy sweatshirt, then venture out to the great room to see who’s around, if anyone.
I spot Cooper seated in one of the armchairs positioned beside the hearth. He looks so handsome in a sexy-old-guy way with his wire-rimmed reading glasses perched on his nose. His neatly trimmed hair and beard are a mixture of dark gray and silver, as if they can’t quite make up their minds what color they want to be.
He’s holding a tablet, and there’s a muted Chicago Bulls basketball game playing on the huge flatscreen above the hearth. Occasionally, he glances up to check the score on the TV.
“Good morning,” I say, heading straight for the Keurig machine. “Whatcha reading?”
Cooper looks my way as I pour water into the coffee maker’s reservoir and insert my favorite K-cup.
“Jamie’s latest book,” he says, setting down his tablet. “Want me to make you some breakfast?”
“No, thank you. I don’t feel like eating. I’ll just have coffee.”
“You hardly ate anything yesterday either.” He gets up and joins me in the kitchen, frowning as he feels my forehead. “Are you feelin’ okay, kiddo?”
“I’m fine. It’s just nerves... thinking about the wedding.” And Luciana.
Cooper crosses his arms over his chest, looking far from convinced. His faded jeans hang low on his lean hips, and a plain gray T-shirt hugs his muscular torso. His feet are bare.
“I’m fine, Cooper, really.”
“You can’t survive on coffee alone, honey. You’ll get dehydrated. Drink some water, too, and let me make you something to eat.”
“All right, I’ll have toast. And I’ll make it myself. You go sit down and read. I can manage.”
The elevator chimes, and a moment later Shane steps through the foyer door. He’s dressed in workout clothes – running shorts, a sweat-soaked T-shirt, and running shoes. His damp hair is plastered to his head, and he has a towel draped over his neck. Even after a hot, sweaty workout, the man looks divine.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” he says, leaning in to give me a quick peck on the cheek. “Sorry, honey. I just ran six miles, and I’m a ripe mess. You relax with your coffee, and I’ll go grab a quick shower.”
* * *
I grab my phone and coffee and a slice of dry toast and bring them with me to the sofa, where I get comfortable. Another wave of nausea hits me, and I breathe through it, hoping it will pass as quickly as it came. God, I hope I’m not coming down with something. I really don’t have time to be sick. Just as I take a cautious bite of toast, my phone chimes with an incoming message. I have a new text message from Lia.
What r u doing 2day? Let’s take the rock star shopping. I’m sick of looking at the same damn 3 tees. It’ll be fun. We can watch the fan girls gawk at him. ;)
I chuckle. Having a celebrity in the family, and everything that entails, is certainly a novel experience for me. I send her a reply.
Sounds fun. I’ll ask Shane if he wants to come.
It’s not long before Shane joins us in the great room, freshly showered and dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. He drops down beside me on the sofa and reaches for the remote control on the coffee table to turn up the volume on the basketball game.
“What are you doing?” he asks, stealing a sip of my coffee, then leaning over to look at my phone.
“Texting your sister.”
“Which one?”
“Lia. She’s taking Jonah shopping this afternoon, and she’s asking if I want to come. Apparently, Jonah needs clothes. Do you want to come?”
He raises a dubious eyebrow at me. “Shopping for clothes? Really? Can’t he just order something online?”
I nudge him with my elbow. “Come on, it’ll be fun. We can watch the fan girls drool all over him.”
Shane looks less than thrilled at the prospect, but he nods anyway. “Well, if you’re going, I’m going.” He rises from the sofa and heads for the kitchen. “If we’re going out, I’ll need more coffee and food.”
“Great! I’ll tell her we’re game. I’ll be fun – like going out on a double date.”