by J. K. Coi
“Don’t forget to turn on the passenger seat warmer for me,” he called after her with a grin.
Chapter Four
The drive was almost as bad as the ride home from the hospital had been. He’d been super solicitous then, asking at least twenty times if she was okay, and Bria hadn’t been able to respond. Not because of any physical discomfort—the drugs had been pretty effective—but because talking would have required energy she didn’t have at that point.
She’d sat there staring through the window at the world passing them by but not really seeing any of it. Finally, he’d quieted, but the silence had been thick with disappointment, grief, and all the things that needed to be said.
Now the silence just felt like silence. Echoing and empty. Now all the arguments had been made and remade, and it hadn’t changed anything.
“So,” he said cheerfully. “What do you want to do tonight?”
“It’s getting late,” she started.
He raised a brow. “You’ve never gone to bed before midnight in all the years we’ve been together…at least not to sleep.”
He was really going to torture her with this agreement, wasn’t he? “Why don’t we start cataloging some of the house contents?”
He laughed. “We can do that on your time. We agreed that my time would be spent doing normal couple things.”
“Then why don’t you put your dirty laundry in the machine, and I’ll go buy groceries? That’s what normal couples do.”
“Normal for us,” he clarified.
They rarely cooked at home because of their schedules, and they had a really amazing woman who came once a week to tidy up and do laundry…but Bria had been trying to make a point.
“You want to do the things we did before all this?” She threw a glare at him from the driver’s seat. “We worked. More than eighty hours most weeks. There wasn’t much left after that, remember? Sure, we worked together, but we can’t do that anymore, so why don’t you do your work in the office, and I’ll work in my room?”
She pulled into the driveway. There weren’t a lot of homes in New York with actual driveways. They’d been looking around for months before hearing about this place.
By the time she grabbed her purse and got out of the car, Leo had already come around to her side. She suspected that his motives played a dual role: to assist her out of the car, because he really was a gentleman, and maybe to keep her from bolting.
He stood in front of her. The open door bracketed her on one side, and the car’s interior was on her other side. She couldn’t get past him without making direct contact.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked sharply, wincing a little at the anger in her tone. She used to be an optimistic person, a cheerful person. When had she become such a shrew?
She was the author of her own misery, and she had to own that, but the distance between them had started with Leo first. He had to have realized that there would be consequences for shutting her out.
She held her breath while he looked at her, wondering if he would finally get angry, finally rail and yell at her.
He simply stepped aside to let her pass. “It’s late. Why don’t we just put on a movie and relax?”
She let out a broken sigh and bit her lip. “I honestly have work to do.” She paused. “But it’s just reading over some deposition transcripts. I can probably do that on the couch in front of the television.”
“Come on, then.” He took her hand and led her across the driveway and up the front steps of their home. Maybe she was too tired to protest or maybe too soft to stick to her guns, but she let him.
When they got inside, he moved behind her and helped her with her coat, his fingers skimming the back of her neck. Tingles danced across her skin. She jerked her arms from the sleeves and spun around, but he had already turned away to hang up both their coats in the hall closet. She rubbed the back of her neck, but that tingly feeling wouldn’t go away.
“Bria?”
She blinked and shook her head. He just stood there, waiting for something. “What?” she said, finally.
He reached over for the end of her scarf and tugged gently, slowly. It slid from her shoulders like ribbon, like a seductive promise that the rest of her clothing might fall away just as easily if she let it.
She cleared her throat and stepped back. The scarf tugged free completely, and Leo wrapped it around his fist once before relaxing and letting it float down onto the hall table where he’d already dropped his wallet and keys.
“Why don’t you get changed, and I’ll have some popcorn ready for us in the living room in about fifteen minutes,” he said.
She nodded, thinking about the last time they’d planned a movie night. It had been several months ago, just before they’d learned she was pregnant. Friday after a very long week at the office, and they’d gotten home from dinner at Russo’s, just like tonight, with every intention of sitting back and relaxing on the couch to watch a movie. But as soon as they’d gone upstairs to change into something cozy…they’d gotten distracted, as usual.
Bria retreated upstairs quickly. She took her time changing—no sexy satin nightgowns for her. She put on a pair of yoga pants and a tunic with a loose cardigan, then washed her face of makeup and tied up her hair. Before coming back downstairs, she looked in the bathroom mirror. Her eyes were dark with sleep deprivation. Her mouth was thin. There was no sign of the vibrant woman she’d been just a few months ago, and she had no expectation of finding that woman again anytime soon.
That was the thing Leo didn’t seem to understand. He’d insisted they would find a way to put this behind them and get back to “normal.” But how could they go back to the life they’d enjoyed when the people who’d been living that life didn’t exist anymore? The only way to move forward was to acknowledge that…but it would take a level of intimacy and vulnerability that Leo couldn’t give in to.
She grabbed the accordion folder with the transcripts she had to read and reluctantly went back downstairs to get the evening over with.
She stopped short at the entrance to the living room. Soft lighting, a big bowl of popcorn glistening with butter, two glasses of red wine, and a warm blanket waited across the back of the sofa.
Leo came up behind her. “Ready?” His voice was low, like a private promise, and he slipped past her, settling into his familiar spot right in the middle of the sofa.
“Uh, Leo—” she warned, tucking her folder close to her chest. It had never bothered her before, because she’d taken a side and simply cuddled up next to him.
He lifted his hands. “I promise to keep my hands to myself.”
She still refused to come any farther.
Finally, he sighed and shifted over to one end of the sofa, but his arm extended across the backrest. Having changed from the suit and tie into a pair of workout pants and a T-shirt didn’t make him any less physically appealing. The tight definition of his chest and thick arms was even more pronounced.
He propped his heel on the coffee table and crossed his ankles, remote control in hand.
She gave in and came to sit with him, leaving a telling space between them.
He leaned forward and grabbed the glasses of wine, handing one to her. “Thanks.” She took a few sips as he started the movie.
“What are we watching?” she asked.
“How about that one with Sandler and Barrymore?”
She nodded. She’d seen the previews. It would be light and funny. No high-noise action scenes to distract her from her depositions, and nothing too dramatic or romantic to make her uncomfortable.
Once the opening credits had finished and the first scene was under way, Bria opened up the first transcript she had to read. It wasn’t for the Cordeiro file or any other case that Leo or his firm had any interest in, so she wasn’t worried that he might catch a glimpse of its contents. Still, she huddled over on her side of the sofa.
This won’t be so bad. Both the movie and her work gave her a valid excuse
to avoid speaking to him or looking at him. Then again, she hadn’t counted on the sheer force of his presence as a distraction. Even without touching him, she was very aware of his every movement. The two of them didn’t watch movies often, not only because they were usually too busy, but because Leo hated to sit still for that long. He was always in motion. Even now, his legs were jiggling, and his fingers tapped his thigh, but he smiled at the antics on screen.
Bria settled in and slowly relaxed. After a while, the words on the page in front of her started to blur, and the comb-bound volume dipped lower and lower until it rested in her lap, forgotten, and she propped her elbow on the armrest and braced her head on her hand.
A few hours later, she roused. Her whole right side was warm, and her head was pillowed on something firm. God, that pillow felt so good under her cheek. Sleepy, she sighed contentedly. It was the most comfortable she could remember being in…too long.
The warmth along her side was like a decadent, thick duvet that lay half under her and half over her. Her pillow rose and fell with deep, regular breaths.
She lay in the cradle of Leo’s body. His arm curled around her back and shoulders.
She couldn’t hear the movie. She blinked her eyes open. If the DVD had simply finished, the disk would have returned to the home screen, but the television was completely dark. Someone had turned it off while she was sleeping.
“You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you when the movie finished.”
Leo’s voice was gravelly with sleep. It was the sound of naked bodies entwined, soft sighs, and gentle groans.
He tucked his finger under her chin. She tilted her face up like she had done a million other times, and when his lips met hers, it was as good as all those other times combined. She was melting into the kiss before her brain could wake up enough to warn her otherwise. It was so familiar and felt so right, she couldn’t remember the reasons why it was wrong.
His hand smoothed up her arm and then his fingers dove into her hair. He kissed her lightly, touched her gently, like she was fragile…
Broken.
Bria jerked back, breathing heavily. She braced her hand on his chest and started to push herself up, but he flattened his palm over hers. “That wasn’t so bad,” he whispered. Not quite a question and not quite a statement, because he knew that to make it a question would challenge her to refute him, and to make it a statement would be accusing her of being a coward.
She knew he wanted to say more, to make her admit that she’d been wrong to deny him all this time, but surprisingly, he didn’t. A first for her never-hesitate, never-back-down, never-show-fear husband.
The transcript she’d failed to finish had slid off her lap to the floor at some point. She bent to retrieve it and grabbed the rest of the file up as well. “It’s time for bed,” she muttered, tugging her hand free and scrambling to her feet. “I’ve got a long day at the office tomorrow.”
Leo stood as well. Just as she moved to beat a hasty retreat to her bedroom, he took her arm. She gasped as he pulled her close and leaned down to kiss her again. His body slammed full against hers, and she dropped her paperwork, one of the volumes hitting her in the shin. This time there was no sleepy softness in Leo’s kiss. It was hard and deep, leaving her panting and clutching handfuls of his T-shirt.
“Damn you,” she spat, angry. “The first one I could pretend was just a sleepy mistake, but not again. You did that on purpose.”
His jaw clenched. “I’m not going to apologize for wanting my own wife.”
“This is about saying good-bye, Leo.” Her voice choked on the words, but her decision to end this marriage wasn’t about want, but need. She needed something that Leo simply couldn’t or wouldn’t understand. And if he stopped to really think about it—which he obviously hadn’t—he’d realize, too, that he needed something she was not able to give. A family.
She should have known he would never admit defeat, that he probably couldn’t—it just wasn’t in his nature—so she would have to do it for the both of them, no matter how much it hurt.
…
Leo let her go. Watched her race from the room like the hounds of hell were close on her heels. She wanted out; she’d said it often enough. After all the times she’d turned from him in frustrated disappointment, maybe he should give up and take her at her word.
But her kiss proved just how much she still loved him. Her kiss proved that words were not enough to end a marriage. He’d never, never been the guy who forced himself on a woman, and he wouldn’t start with his own wife…but that didn’t mean that he had to give up on her, either.
Bria was just as good at her job as Leo. He was all about the battle, whereas Bria looked at the long game. She planned and strategized, and brought down the opposition before they even knew it was coming, usually in the negotiation phase—which not only helped everyone go away thinking they’d all gotten exactly what they wanted, but saved their clients the expense of hashing things out in court. The two of them had been a perfect team until the morning the world dropped out from under them both.
In his mind, he still saw that line of blood on her white skin, trailing down her leg from beneath her skirt. He still saw the look of agony and fear on her face. He couldn’t blame her for being afraid to go through that ever again. He didn’t want her to go through that again. If they never had a baby, it would be okay with him as long as it meant keeping her safe.
She thought he didn’t understand what she felt, but he’d been the one covered in his wife’s blood carrying her into the emergency room, without any idea what was going on. He’d been the one pacing the corridor for three hours while the doctors worked to save her and the baby. He had been the one at Bria’s bedside, watching her chest rise and fall and waiting for her to open her eyes. And he’d been the one who had to tell her the baby was dead…and watch the light go out of her beautiful brown eyes.
And while none of that even came close to the hell she had gone through herself, he still jerked awake every fucking night blanketed in an icy cold sweat, reliving that horrific day and the months that followed. The nightmares did a great job of highlighting his utter failure to do anything to prevent what had happened, or to reassure his wife that it would be okay and they could have other children.
Leo wasn’t good at emotion. His father had always said crying and carrying on never solved anything. So now he solved the problem or fought the problem, and if he couldn’t do either, then he shut his damn mouth and stayed out of the way so he didn’t make things worse.
How would baring his soul like a sniveling boy do anyone any good? If there were any other way…
He settled for trying to be normal, hoping that if he faked it long enough, she could find her way back to normal, too…and back to him.
He carried the popcorn bowl into the kitchen. He didn’t bother with the lights while he tidied up the dishes and put things away. His thoughts were elsewhere, and those thoughts were perfect to have in the shadows.
He tried to focus on the light at the end of the tunnel, because even though Bria’d dropped that bomb about separating and wanting him out of the house, he’d felt a huge wave of relief to see her coming back to life. When she’d quit her job at Ashton Granger Markham and gone after a partnership spot somewhere else, he’d done a silent cheer because she was fighting again. Fighting for something, even if she wasn’t fighting for him.
Leo left the kitchen and made his way up the stairs. He stopped at the top and looked down the hall toward the master bedroom. He wanted more than anything to be in there with her right this minute, but it was still too soon. She’d responded to him tonight, but she hadn’t wanted to, and he suspected she was already talking herself out of any feelings he’d managed to pull from her. If he pushed his luck, he would end up right back where he started.
Tomorrow was a new day, though. And tomorrow he would refine his strategy.
Chapter Five
Saturday, and it had been almost a week sinc
e dinner at Russo’s. Bria had adhered to the letter of their agreement. She’d thrown together a stir-fry Wednesday night and had it waiting when he got home, and there’d been chicken potpie on Friday night. But even though she had been present, the walls had gone back up—all the way up—and the essence of her was decidedly absent.
Reluctantly, he’d agreed to use their one weekend day today separating their belongings, so he’d gotten up early to go to the gym and stopped to get them coffee on the way back, but when he pulled into the driveway, her car was gone, and she hadn’t texted him or left him a note.
With a sigh, he put the coffee on the kitchen counter and went upstairs, stripping his shirt off on the way to the bathroom. He jumped in the shower, but it was only when he’d finished washing up that he realized there were no towels. Marissa came to clean on Fridays, so they’d all been washed and folded and put back in the linen closet.
Dripping and naked, he opened the bathroom door and ran right into Bria.
“Oh!” She put her hand flat against his chest before snatching it back as if his skin burned. He might have been offended, but her eyes widened, and her gaze drank him in like she couldn’t get enough. “What are you…? Shouldn’t you be…?”
He kind of enjoyed watching her squirm. He crossed his arms. “Good morning,” he said with a grin. Her face was flushed, but that might have been because she was dressed in her running outfit, hair pulled back in a bouncy ponytail.
“Oh God. Towel. Where’s your towel?” She finally dragged her gaze away and looked pointedly at the painting on the wall.
He stepped forward and grasped both of her forearms, startling her into looking up at him again. Her hands instinctively flew to his waist, and her touch on his skin, however brief, however light, sent a sharp electrical pulse to his already-awakening cock.
“Leo, wait. I don’t think—”
