“Mmmm.”
She seems to be falling back asleep.
“Wendy?”
“Hmm?”
“As much as I love having your body on top of mine, I need to visit the little boys’ room.”
“Don’t have any little boys, so there’s no room here for them.”
“I’m talking about the bathroom, you loon. I was trying to be discreet.”
“Oh.” She shifts off me and rubs her eyes. “Sorry. I need my caffeine.”
I slip out from under the covers. “What’s your morning caffeine of choice?”
“Dr. Pepper.”
“I’ll bring you one after I take care of business.”
“No, I need to get up. I’ll get it.”
When I come out of the bathroom after changing back into my clothes, Wendy is standing in the kitchen with glassy eyes, hair an absolute wreck, cheek creased from sleeping on my shirt-clad chest, armadillo pjs all askew, and looking more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her. My knees buckle when I realize I don’t get to wake up to this view every morning,but I want to.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” she asks me.
“Because you’re the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen.” I cross the room, wrap my arms around her from behind, and kiss the top of her head.
She laughs. “I look a total mess, and you know it. I’d be embarrassed to have you see me like this if I weren’t so happy you’re here.” She grips my forearms. “You really are here, right? This isn’t a dream?”
I press my lips to her head again. “Not a dream.”
“And I didn’t screw this all up by asking you to stay the night?”
I turn her around so I can look down into her face. “Why would that screw anything up?”
“Because you told me you need your space in this relationship, yet the very first night I wouldn’t let you go home.”
“I didn’t want to go home. You asked me to help you deal with some shocking news, and I did that. I’m glad I could.”
She lifts her hands to my neck and pulls on it. “Get your face down here so I can kiss it.”
I raise an eyebrow at her.
“On the cheek,” she clarifies. “It’s not fair that you can always reach my head, but I can’t reach yours.”
I lower my cheek to her lips, and she gives me a kiss that somehow seems more intimate than a kiss on the mouth would. Then she turns my head and kisses me on the other cheek. Finally, she boops me on the nose, giggles, and steps backward out of my embrace, taking a little piece of my heart with her.
“You need to go home to change into some work clothes,” she orders, “and I need to get ready.”
The last thing I want to do is leave her, but she’s right. The clothes I wore here last night don’t fit Carter-Jenkins’ dress code.
“Okay,” I concede, “but I’ll swing back by and pick you up for work.”
“No, you won’t.”
“I will.”
