his green duffel bag all dropped right inside the door.
“In a hurry, were you?”
“You could say that. I almost had a heart attack when I saw you in that window. I, um...” he started to say something, and then seemed to hold back as he picked up some of the packages from the floor, throwing his duffel over near the stairs.
“What?”
He looked at her with so much heat, she thought her bones might melt.
“The other night, when I was walking up from where my truck went off the road, I saw you then, too. Undressing by the window. You nearly drove me out of my mind. This was like a private fantasy coming true,” he said, his voice lowering, reflecting the desire that sparked in his eyes.
Lydia had no idea he had been watching her, and the idea turned her on.
“We’d better stop talking about this and heat up dinner, or we’ll starve to death,” she said, loving how the sheer power of sex had warmed her, made her blood pound and her spirit feel lighter. “But you know, there are a lot of windows in this house,” she said provocatively. “We could test them all out.”
He laughed and she joined in.
This had definitely been a good decision, and she wanted more. After dinner.
* * *
E LY HEATED UP the dinner he’d brought home—the closest he ever came to cooking. Domestic duties weren’t his strong point, but he could manage a microwave. Lydia uncorked some red wine she found in the cupboard. Ely watched her for a second, replaying in his mind what had happened between them less than an hour ago. It still seemed surreal.
She was dressed in thin yoga pants and an oversize sweater that made her look even smaller than she actually was, and he knew she didn’t have anything on underneath. That thought made him want to go abandon dinner and strip off those clothes for a repeat performance.
Definitely later.
He wasn’t sure what had changed; she didn’t seem interested in talking about it—typical Lydia—but when he’d seen her in the window, he hadn’t been about to decline the invitation.
Still, it nagged at him. Why the quick switch in her thinking?
They settled on her living room floor in front of a huge hearth where he had started a fire before dealing with the food. Lydia dragged several large pillows and blankets down to the floor, pushing boxes and piles of things she had been sorting through out of the way.
Eating on plates in their laps, they clinked their wineglasses together and focused on their dinner, enjoying the quiet and the fire. Ely had to say something, finally, since it was clear that she wasn’t going to.
“So what changed your mind?” he asked, keeping his tone light as he stole some pad Thai from her plate, popping the succulent noodles into his mouth.
She shrugged. “I had time to think, and I was also tired of thinking. I’ve been so muddled lately, with the house, my mother, and everything going on. I needed to get out of my head, feel more like myself, I guess.”
Ely absorbed that, unsure how he felt about her explanation. So he was her distraction? Though he could understand why she might need that, and why she might need to feel something “normal,” he wasn’t sure if she had needed him or just someone. If he hadn’t been here, would anyone else have done? Kyle? Someone from the bar downtown?
“You said it was fine, that you weren’t looking for anything serious, right?” she asked, and he could hear the tinge of apprehension in her voice, as if she were reading his thoughts.
He had said that, and he meant it. Still, describing what had happened between them as “no big deal” bothered him, too.
“I did. I guess I’d like to think it was something of a big deal, at least right now,” he said, meeting her eyes, “that you wanted me.”
He felt kind of stupid telling her, but so be it.
She smiled a little. “I forget, the male ego is such a fragile thing. Of course it was because I wanted you, and it was very nice.”
His eyebrows shot up.
“In a hurry, were you?”
“You could say that. I almost had a heart attack when I saw you in that window. I, um...” he started to say something, and then seemed to hold back as he picked up some of the packages from the floor, throwing his duffel over near the stairs.
“What?”
He looked at her with so much heat, she thought her bones might melt.
“The other night, when I was walking up from where my truck went off the road, I saw you then, too. Undressing by the window. You nearly drove me out of my mind. This was like a private fantasy coming true,” he said, his voice lowering, reflecting the desire that sparked in his eyes.
Lydia had no idea he had been watching her, and the idea turned her on.
“We’d better stop talking about this and heat up dinner, or we’ll starve to death,” she said, loving how the sheer power of sex had warmed her, made her blood pound and her spirit feel lighter. “But you know, there are a lot of windows in this house,” she said provocatively. “We could test them all out.”
He laughed and she joined in.
This had definitely been a good decision, and she wanted more. After dinner.
* * *
E LY HEATED UP the dinner he’d brought home—the closest he ever came to cooking. Domestic duties weren’t his strong point, but he could manage a microwave. Lydia uncorked some red wine she found in the cupboard. Ely watched her for a second, replaying in his mind what had happened between them less than an hour ago. It still seemed surreal.
She was dressed in thin yoga pants and an oversize sweater that made her look even smaller than she actually was, and he knew she didn’t have anything on underneath. That thought made him want to go abandon dinner and strip off those clothes for a repeat performance.
Definitely later.
He wasn’t sure what had changed; she didn’t seem interested in talking about it—typical Lydia—but when he’d seen her in the window, he hadn’t been about to decline the invitation.
Still, it nagged at him. Why the quick switch in her thinking?
They settled on her living room floor in front of a huge hearth where he had started a fire before dealing with the food. Lydia dragged several large pillows and blankets down to the floor, pushing boxes and piles of things she had been sorting through out of the way.
Eating on plates in their laps, they clinked their wineglasses together and focused on their dinner, enjoying the quiet and the fire. Ely had to say something, finally, since it was clear that she wasn’t going to.
“So what changed your mind?” he asked, keeping his tone light as he stole some pad Thai from her plate, popping the succulent noodles into his mouth.
She shrugged. “I had time to think, and I was also tired of thinking. I’ve been so muddled lately, with the house, my mother, and everything going on. I needed to get out of my head, feel more like myself, I guess.”
Ely absorbed that, unsure how he felt about her explanation. So he was her distraction? Though he could understand why she might need that, and why she might need to feel something “normal,” he wasn’t sure if she had needed him or just someone. If he hadn’t been here, would anyone else have done? Kyle? Someone from the bar downtown?
“You said it was fine, that you weren’t looking for anything serious, right?” she asked, and he could hear the tinge of apprehension in her voice, as if she were reading his thoughts.
He had said that, and he meant it. Still, describing what had happened between them as “no big deal” bothered him, too.
“I did. I guess I’d like to think it was something of a big deal, at least right now,” he said, meeting her eyes, “that you wanted me.”
He felt kind of stupid telling her, but so be it.
She smiled a little. “I forget, the male ego is such a fragile thing. Of course it was because I wanted you, and it was very nice.”
His eyebrows shot up.
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