his sleep.”
Nikki froze at the amused comment. The cool satin warmed beneath her still legs.
“Corkscrew would be nearly snoring, but his legs would be going a mile a minute. That’s what you remind me of.”
Since the earth wasn’t likely to mercifully swallow her whole anytime soon, she lifted her head out of the pillow and eyedAlex. “A dog named Corkscrew. How…flattering.” And trust Alex, the wine connoisseur, to have had a dog named Corkscrew. “What happened to him?”
“Died of old age. Now he’s chasing rabbits for eternity.”
She pushed her hair out of her face and propped her head on her hand. Looking at Alex was dangerous, but she couldn’t very well avoid doing so for the next few weeks.
He hadn’t shaved, but his wet hair was ruthlessly combed back from his face. He’d obviously showered, and the fact that she’d slept right through it gave her a moment’s unease.
She’d never lived with anyone. Not that she was living with Alex, of course. But she’d have thought she’d be more aware of sounds around her that weren’t made by, well, her.
He was wearing a thick, ivory fisherman’s sweater, which made his shoulders look about a mile wide. That wasn’t so odd in itself. Nor was it odd that he was unshaven. There’d been plenty of times when he’d worked all night and in the morning would pull out his electric razor, running it brusquely over his lean cheeks while they’d gone through the upcoming day’s business.
What was odd was that he was wearing blue jeans. Well-worn jeans, in fact. So worn they were nearly white in certain places. A person could purchase jeans in that condition these days, but Nikki had one stepfather, five stepbrothers and a brother-in-law whose jeans all looked remarkably similar, so she recognized the real deal when she saw them.
She wouldn’t have expected Alex to have a pair so broken in. Maybe he’d hired the task out to someone. A surrogate jeans breaker-in-er.
Good grief, did she ever need caffeine.
“Last one I ever had,” he mused, lifting his mug of that wonderful-smelling stuff to his mouth.
She moistened her lips. Was it the coffee that had her mouth watering, or was it the man drinking it? “Last what?”
His eyes crinkled a little at the corners. “Dog.”
She felt her cheeks heat. Corkscrew. “Right. I never knew you had a dog.”
“That’s because I was nine.”
She sat up a little more. She had a hard time envisioning Alex as a boy. “Why didn’t you get another dog?”
He shrugged. “Went away to boarding school. No point in having a dog if you’re not around to give it some attention.”
She felt as if she’d learned more about Alex in the last two minutes than she had in years. “Was your school far away from home?”
“An hour or so.”
The baby shifted when she tucked a pillow beneath her knees under the sheet. “Did you go home on weekends?”
“Rarely. How do you want your eggs?”
“Emily, one of my sisters-in-law, went to boarding school when she was a teenager. But it was back east somewhere, I think. She says she hated it.”
“Some people do. Over easy or scrambled?”
“I’m not sure how I feel about you cooking for me.”
“Scrambled it is.”
Her lips parted as he turned away. She saw his legs through the fireplace when he walked through the living area on the other side. Then she couldn’t see him anymore, but could hear him in the kitchen. Opening cupboards. Rattling pans.
“Over easy,” she called after him. “Thank you.”
She heard his cell phone beep and then his low voice. “Hi, babe.”
Great. If it wasn’t Valerie, it could have been any other dozen women he was addressing. She didn’t want to overhear another word, and she started to swing her legs off the bed, intending to go to the bathroom.
The tips of her toes were engulfed in shaggy animal-print carpet before she stopped. She slowly drew back her feet until they rested on the mattress, and her knees would have been under her chin if not for the bulge of the baby.
She wasn’t supposed to walk anywhere. How could she forget that? Just because Alex was talking to his latest squeeze?
She pushed both hands against her temples, then raked back her hair, holding it behind her neck, and studied her reflection in the mirrored wall opposite the bed. The football jersey she wore was old, the once-deep red now faded to a milky, tomato soup color.
It had been Cody’s.
For a while, when she’d learned she was pregnant, she had stopped wearing the shirt to bed. Feeling as if continuing to wear it would be a betrayal of him, somehow. But when she’d lain awake night after night, she’d finally dug it out of her drawer and put it on.
Her sleep had improved, but only marginally.
“Want toast?” Alex asked loudly.
“Yes.” She wondered if he cooked breakfast for his female guests.
Doubtful. She’d arranged a few dinner meetings for him at the Echelon. Alex need only express a request and the staff there hopped. The breakfast, tastefully arranged on sterling, dome-covered platters, would arrive on a linen-draped cart. Like something out of a movie.
She lowered her forehead to her knees and closed her eyes. Her fingers absently worked through the tangles in her hair.
Speculating over who Alex shared breakfast with had never particularly pained her. Not until he’d broken his own record of loving and leaving them within a few weeks by continuing to see Valerie for months. On end.
That had hurt. Seeing his smile whenever Valerie dropped by for an unexpected visit—during which he always shut his office door. Normally, Alex never shut the door between his office and Nikki’s. Not even when he was firing someone.
“Here. You got scrambled, anyway. Yolks broke when I cracked the shells.”
She looked up to see Alex holding out a plate. Along with the eggs, there was toast. Cut in half diagonally and a little too brown beneath the red jam, but she was too hungry to complain.
“Thanks.” She started to take the plate, but he held it out of reach.
“Scoot back.”
She lowered her legs, flushing a little because Cody’s shirt was falling off one shoulder and the hem ended midthigh. She slid back on the bed, swiftly pulling the slippery silver sheet over herself as she did so. When Alex finally handed her the plate, his eyes were full of amusement.
So she didn’t look at his eyes. She focused on the plate.
