Second Thoughts by Bobbie O'Keefe Page A

“Sentence,” she finished. “What’s your problem anyway? Is it intellectually impossible for you to see more than just your side of something?”
    “I heard you,” he enunciated precisely. “Quite well. You asked me to risk my job and my career, as well as the station’s reputation. Or am I misunderstanding something here?”
    She glared at him. It seemed like old times, being at loggerheads with this stubborn and irascible individual. Except that in this case, he had a valid point. She didn’t like admitting it, but, yes, he had a point.
    “Okay,” she said, giving up but not liking it. Shaking her head, she looked at the old-fashioned brass lamp on the bedside table. “Okay, it was a long shot. I just thought that if public opinion was on Max and Petey’s side, which it would be, then Hayworth would have to give in. But I hear what you’re saying.”
    She went to Chris and gently pushed and pulled his small body until there was room on either side of him for company. She noted that as Derek watched her, he appeared wary and still ready for battle, as if not aware he’d won the argument. Ignoring him, she removed her socks and shoes and slipped into bed, still in her jeans and pink-striped knit pullover.
    He frowned. “You didn’t pack anything today to sleep in?”
    She turned onto her side, away from him, not appreciating this topic of conversation any more than the last one. Especially since she’d lost the last one. “I wasn’t expecting to share a bedroom when I left home. I only brought two nightgowns, and they weren’t…aren’t …appropriate.”
    “I see.” It sounded like he was smiling. “And out of deference to Chris, you decided you didn’t want to wear either of them.”
    She didn’t like his tone any more than the subject. She rose up onto her elbow, turned, and put as much glare in her stare as she could.
    At the look on her face, he tried to straighten his. “Okay, okay. End of subject.”
    He started to unbuckle his belt, stopped and gave her an overlong look. Then, amusement curving his mouth, he delicately reached to turn the lamp off before undressing himself.
    Connie turned back onto her side and had to press her lips together to keep her mouth shut. He was getting to her, and she guessed he knew it. But she was determined not to let him know the degree of her exasperation with him, and the lack of privacy, and especially this dinky little bed she had to share with two members of the aggravating and annoying male species.

Chapter Thirteen
    Connie was vaguely aware of Christopher as he climbed over her on his way out of bed, and she took advantage of his absence to snuggle closer to Derek. He was on his side, facing away from her, and she put one arm over him and brought her knees up to slide in behind his, spoon fashion. She fit so perfectly. He stirred, then turned over, dislodging her, but she didn’t mind because his arm came over her then, too, and she liked that even better.
    His hand fell on her hip, moved to her waist, up to her breast. She wondered absently why she was wearing a bra in bed. She wriggled closer and his arms wrapped nicely around her. She hadn’t felt this sexy in a long time. She—
    Her eyes snapped open. She broke away and shot out of bed so fast her foot got caught in the sheet and she almost went sprawling.
    With her gaze locked on him, she backed away from the bed. He blinked, brow furrowing as if he had trouble focusing. His eyes looked clouded, still confused with sleep. But more than that. She saw want and need, physical and emotional. Then when he focused on her, showing her he was fully awake, his face mirrored her feelings. Not just surprise. Closer to shock. And the desire she’d seen a moment ago was replaced with memory and hurt, probably also very similar to hers.
    Her mind flew back to events leading to their divorce. Hurtful, yes, stopping just short of hateful. They’d grown so distant, so cool and indifferent to each other,