“You do a lot of things right,” she said. She was amazed that he would do this for her. She rode the last two blocks in silence wondering what Tom really felt and wanted.
When they got home, they had to deal with the first window company. They were so impressed, they decided to skip getting the other estimates and go with this firm.
It was two in the afternoon before they ate lunch and she washed her new sheets. Then they went back to painting. As she painted, her thoughts were on Tom.
He worked fast and efficiently. He’d already taken care of the alarm system. The downstairs windows would be installed in two weeks, which was a rush job for custom-made windows. Going ahead without discussing it, Tom had also hired a professional outfit to paint the outside of the house and they had started this morning. And now he was going to pay all her repair bills.
Tom got things done, and with his help, it was going to take her far less time to finish restoring the house. How long would he stay? Trying to catch Maverick, if it was even possible, could take a long time. So far, she didn’t think anyone had come close to learning the true identity of this monster. Maybe she would be the last victim—but how long would Tom feel she might need protection?
In some ways they were getting along better than they had, or maybe she had just relaxed about being with him. She was looking forward to meeting the Valentines Saturday. Tom liked them and his voice softened when he talked about them.
Like shifting sands beneath her feet, she felt as if her world was changing again, slight changes that might make a big difference later. She thought about Tom holding her in the store and telling her she wasn’t alone. She expected Tom to eventually get the divorce and they would no longer be in each other’s lives. He probably expected to marry again and she was sure he would. He probably expected her to marry again and she was sure she would not. She still wanted the divorce and she was certain he did. As great as Tom was, they could not have happiness together. Tom needed a family, and she couldn’t give him his own kids.
* * *
The following day after the store delivered the bed, she got out her new sheets and Tom helped. He wore cutoffs, boots and another T-shirt with the sleeves ripped away, and it kept her tingly and physically aware of him every second they were together.
They made the bed and she spread a comforter on top with some new pillows. She stood back to admire it. “I think it’s beautiful.”
“I agree,” he said, picking her up. His voice had lowered. “Let’s try it out. I’ve been waiting for this moment.”
“Aw, Tom, don’t get me all torn up when I’m getting over what we went through,” she said, but at the same time, joy rocked her and she loved being in his arms.
She put her arm around his neck and he carried her to the bed, placing his knee on the mattress to lower her. While she wanted to kiss him, she didn’t want to get tied up in emotional knots again. “Tom, we can’t do this.”
“Sure, we can. Try me and see,” he said, stretching beside her and holding her in his arms as his mouth covered hers. She felt as if she were in free fall, the world spinning around her as his tongue stroked hers and he ran his hand over her breast and down to slip beneath her T-shirt. She tightened her arms and thrust her hips against him and felt his hard erection. Pushing aside her bra, he caressed her, his hand warm against her skin.
For a moment, she thought, just for a moment... She ran her hands over him, beneath his shirt as he had done, feeling his smooth back, the solid muscles. But she knew she was getting into deep trouble and would get hurt all over again. She slipped out of his embrace and stepped off the bed, shaking her head.
“I can’t go through all that pain.”
He gazed at her solemnly. She wanted to go right back into his arms, but she knew the futility of that, because it would lead straight to more unhappiness with nothing solved between them.
She turned and went downstairs and outside, trying to find something she could work on far away from him, away from the new bed that had been one more big mistake. The thought of sleeping in a comfortable bed instead of a narrow cot night after night had seemed so marvelous, but a bed and Tom—the mere thought made her hot and tingly.
He still could melt her with a look. She was headed fo
r more heartbreak if she wasn’t careful and didn’t keep up her guard. Tom was a wonderful, sexy man, but they had no future together. She needed to stay aware of that all the time with him. They had relaxed now and had fun a lot of the time. But with hot sex and fiery passion, she would soon want him back on a permanent basis and then the problem of her inability to have children would come crashing down on her again and Tom would say goodbye.
She returned to her painting, working fast, focusing on her task and trying to avoid thinking about Tom. Then around four o’clock he stepped into the room. She heard his boot heels as he approached the open door and stepped inside.
“How’re you doing?”
“Painting away and getting a lot done. You’re an inspiration,” she said, trying to keep things light and impersonal again, where they seemed to get along the best.
“I’m glad to hear I inspire you. And I’m glad you’re okay. Shall I get carryout or do you want to go to a restaurant, or what?”
“I think carryout will be perfect.”
“You had your chance to go out to dinner.” He turned and was gone and she went back to painting. It was a couple of hours later when he sent her a text that he was leaving and taking orders. Smiling she sent him a reply and kept painting.
Half an hour later, she heard a loud whistle. Startled, she smiled and put down her brush. She went into the hall to look over the banister. He stood below with his hands on his hips and his hair in its usual tangle.
“I’m here and dinner’s here, so come on down.”
“I have a brush full of paint. You should have given me a warning.”
“Bring your brush and I’ll take care of it.” He turned away without waiting for an answer. Smiling, she picked up her paintbrush and went downstairs.