The second time just a few minutes ago when they were both showering before bed.
She lay down on the bed with a plop, her towel still wrapped around her. Kent chuckled as he strode into the room.
“Have I killed you then?”
“Yep, stick a fork in me. I’m done. If you could just throw a blanket over me, I’d appreciate it.” She closed her eyes with a dramatic sigh.
She yelped as she was suddenly grasped under the arms and hauled up towards the headboard. She opened her eyes, staring up at Kent. “Not going to happen, baby girl. You sleep in my arms.”
Aww, he was such a sweetie.
“And before we go to sleep, I want to see what work you’ve done in your journal.”
Oh shit. And just like that, her post-orgasm glow faded as nerves filled her.
“I’m too tired tonight. Can we do it tomorrow night?”
He finished pulling on a pair of long pajama bottoms. Damn, how could he look so sexy in pajama bottoms?
“You can go to sleep, baby. I’ll take a look at it downstairs.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Come on, I’ll get you a nightie and tuck you in.”
Shoot. Damn it. Why hadn’t she been writing in that darn journal like she was supposed to? She climbed slowly off the bed as he reached into a drawer and pulled out a nightgown.
“I haven’t been writing in it,” she blurted out as he turned to her. Like a band-aid, she figured it was best just to get it over and done with.
Kent placed the nightgown on the bed as he stared down at her. A small line appeared between his brows.
“Why not?” he asked gently.
She shifted from foot to foot. What should she tell him? That she’d forgotten? Yeah, she figured that wouldn’t exactly go down well considering he gently reminded her every day to take time out and write it down.
“Abby?” he said warningly. He sat on the bed then reached out and tugged her close. He undid the towel, letting it drop to the floor before he pulled h
er onto his lap. He grasped hold of her chin, turning her to face him. “The truth, please.”
She sighed. “I don’t know. Each time I go to do it, I freeze. It’s like I don’t know what to write. I feel like I should put down the good memories, except all the bad stuff keeps coming up.”
“Then put that down.”
She tensed. “Really? But I thought this was about keeping the good memories alive?”
He rubbed his hand up and down her back. “Max wasn’t all bad or all good.”
“Yeah, nobody would ever describe Max as all good,” she agreed.
“So the memories of him are going to be mixed. But maybe if you write down the bad stuff, then the good things will come more easily.”
“Okay,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry I haven’t been doing it. Are you upset with me?”
He frowned. “I’m not upset that you haven’t been doing it. I am disappointed you didn’t tell me you were having trouble so I could help you.”
Crap. Her shoulders hunched. She hated disappointing him. She’d rather he be angry at her.
“Hey, look at me.”
She glanced up at him miserably. He kissed her gently on the forehead. “We all make mistakes, baby girl. I just want you to know you can come to me about anything.”
“I know,” she whispered. “Sorry.”