"Rock, what are you doing?" She managed the question
without sounding too much out of breath, but if he'd kept
kissing her much longer, that wouldn't have been the case.
"Heather if you don't know, then it's been a lot longer
than I'd thought."
It had been a lot longer than he'd thought and she
wasn't about to tell him so.
Rock put his finger under her chin and tilted it
up. "Are you going to pass out on me?"
She shook her head all the while thinking, yeah, she
just might. He was even more gorgeous this close up. His
green eyes were the same color as his shirt—he must
have put it on while she'd been dawdling in the hallway
because he hadn't had one on when he'd been...
Uh, yeah. That.
"Good. Now, can we talk about this?" Rock drew her
coffee table up behind him and perched his sculpted
backside on top of it.
Yes, yes, she had noticed his backside. It'd been kind
of hard not to when he'd been changing the light bulb in
the kitchen and had needed her to hand him the bulb. Or
when he'd checked the battery in the smoke detector in the
upstairs hallway and had asked her to hand him the new one.
Or when he'd bent over to take the trash bag out of the
bin...
Her face must be beet red by now.
He raked a hand through his black curls that were just
begging for her fingers. The man was sin on two legs.
Three legs.
"Okay, so, what you saw."
"I know what I saw, Rock. I was married, you know. It's
not like I've never seen that before." She'd just had never
seen it quite like that before.
"Okay, yes, you know what that was. We both know what
that was, obviously. But you don't know why it was."
"It's okay, Rock. You don't have to tell me. Just
promise me you'll take it up to your room next time. If
Brandon had been here and seen that—"
"Whoa. Wait. You think that was an accident? That, what?
I was dreaming and couldn't help myself?"
"Wasn't it? Weren't you?"
Damn if a smile didn't slide all over his face in a
knee–melting smolder.
"Oh no, Heather. That definitely was not a dream."