paper the way he saw them in his mind. Visions of a misty-eyed Johanna kept interfering, thoughts of her struggling to hold back tears when he’d held the baby.
Damn it.
He flipped open his suitcase, pulled out a pair of well-worn jeans and tugged them on. One day into this mandated week together and he was already losing his damn mind. He scratched his hands through his wet hair, needing to get his head together.
Barring that, he could at least let the dogs out.
He opened his bedroom door, wondering if Johanna was up yet. He didn’t hear her so he assumed not. The wide-open barn space sprawled in front of him. The dogs sat up, one, two, three—tails wagging, tongues lolling out. They launched off their beds behind the sofa in unison but thank God, not barking. He knelt, petting each to keep them quiet. Then he snapped his fingers to lead them to the door. Walking past the couch, he almost stopped short. Johanna slept on the sofa, wrapped in a quilt, still wearing her sundress from yesterday.
His gaze stayed on her even as he waved the dogs outside, then he turned to face her fully and enjoy a view that far exceeded anything outside. Many nights he’d watched her sleep, her face relaxed, her stubborn chin softened a bit. Her long lashes brushed her sun-kissed cheeks. His body went hard all over again, his jeans more and more uncomfortable. He needed to get himself under control before she woke.
Padding barefoot across the room, he quietly put together the coffeepot. A crystal cake plate and cover displayed a selection of pastries big enough to feed them twice over. He grabbed a bear claw, wishing his other hunger was as easy to satisfy.
As the coffee gurgled the scent of java into the air, he felt the weight of eyes studying him. He already knew. Johanna. The connection that threatened to drive him mad was alive and well.
He pulled two stoneware mugs off the hooks under the cabinets. “Sorry I woke you.”
A rustle from the sofa sounded, and her reflection came to life in the window pane over the sink.
“It’s okay. I was just catnapping anyway.” Johanna stretched her arms over her head. “It was tough to sleep after we argued.”
“That wasn’t an argument. I consider that a very revealing discussion we should have had a long time ago.” He poured coffee into both mugs. Black. They both drank it the same way, strong and undiluted by sugar or cream. The only thing it seemed they still had in common. He picked up both and walked toward her.
“What would talking about my insecurities have changed?” Her bare toes curled against the rustic braid rug. “Do you think our breakup would have hurt any less? I can’t imagine how.”
“True enough.” He passed her a mug, wishing he could find a way to be with her without tearing them both apart. “Truce?”
She took the mug, wrapping both hands around the mug, brushing his fingers. The ever-ready attraction crackled. He saw it echoed in her eyes, along with wariness.
“Truce,” she repeated, sipping the coffee carefully. “Where to next?”
“Travel day, actually. I’ve got work to catch up on this morning.” Not a total lie, since he always had work. “Then we’ll fly out this afternoon to take Sterling to his new family in South Carolina.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask who your grandmother lined up next. The president?”
“Just a former secretary of state.”
She coughed a mouthful of coffee. “I was joking.”
“I’m not.” His grandmother moved in influential circles. He hadn’t given a second thought to the families she had chosen. They were longtime friends. But he hadn’t thought of how visiting these high-profile people would go over with Johanna. How many times had he tossed her into the middle of unfamiliar, perhaps even intimidating gatherings with no warning? Hell, he hadn’t even given her any direction on how to pack, just offering to buy what she needed.
He’d hoped to use this time together to find peace for
Damn it.
He flipped open his suitcase, pulled out a pair of well-worn jeans and tugged them on. One day into this mandated week together and he was already losing his damn mind. He scratched his hands through his wet hair, needing to get his head together.
Barring that, he could at least let the dogs out.
He opened his bedroom door, wondering if Johanna was up yet. He didn’t hear her so he assumed not. The wide-open barn space sprawled in front of him. The dogs sat up, one, two, three—tails wagging, tongues lolling out. They launched off their beds behind the sofa in unison but thank God, not barking. He knelt, petting each to keep them quiet. Then he snapped his fingers to lead them to the door. Walking past the couch, he almost stopped short. Johanna slept on the sofa, wrapped in a quilt, still wearing her sundress from yesterday.
His gaze stayed on her even as he waved the dogs outside, then he turned to face her fully and enjoy a view that far exceeded anything outside. Many nights he’d watched her sleep, her face relaxed, her stubborn chin softened a bit. Her long lashes brushed her sun-kissed cheeks. His body went hard all over again, his jeans more and more uncomfortable. He needed to get himself under control before she woke.
Padding barefoot across the room, he quietly put together the coffeepot. A crystal cake plate and cover displayed a selection of pastries big enough to feed them twice over. He grabbed a bear claw, wishing his other hunger was as easy to satisfy.
As the coffee gurgled the scent of java into the air, he felt the weight of eyes studying him. He already knew. Johanna. The connection that threatened to drive him mad was alive and well.
He pulled two stoneware mugs off the hooks under the cabinets. “Sorry I woke you.”
A rustle from the sofa sounded, and her reflection came to life in the window pane over the sink.
“It’s okay. I was just catnapping anyway.” Johanna stretched her arms over her head. “It was tough to sleep after we argued.”
“That wasn’t an argument. I consider that a very revealing discussion we should have had a long time ago.” He poured coffee into both mugs. Black. They both drank it the same way, strong and undiluted by sugar or cream. The only thing it seemed they still had in common. He picked up both and walked toward her.
“What would talking about my insecurities have changed?” Her bare toes curled against the rustic braid rug. “Do you think our breakup would have hurt any less? I can’t imagine how.”
“True enough.” He passed her a mug, wishing he could find a way to be with her without tearing them both apart. “Truce?”
She took the mug, wrapping both hands around the mug, brushing his fingers. The ever-ready attraction crackled. He saw it echoed in her eyes, along with wariness.
“Truce,” she repeated, sipping the coffee carefully. “Where to next?”
“Travel day, actually. I’ve got work to catch up on this morning.” Not a total lie, since he always had work. “Then we’ll fly out this afternoon to take Sterling to his new family in South Carolina.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask who your grandmother lined up next. The president?”
“Just a former secretary of state.”
She coughed a mouthful of coffee. “I was joking.”
“I’m not.” His grandmother moved in influential circles. He hadn’t given a second thought to the families she had chosen. They were longtime friends. But he hadn’t thought of how visiting these high-profile people would go over with Johanna. How many times had he tossed her into the middle of unfamiliar, perhaps even intimidating gatherings with no warning? Hell, he hadn’t even given her any direction on how to pack, just offering to buy what she needed.
He’d hoped to use this time together to find peace for
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