No Ordinary Home. Mary Sullivan

rubbed her arms. The room wasn’t cold, but she wanted him and his heat back anyway.

      Those few moments before she had realized she was in the arms of a man she shouldn’t be with had been glorious.

      It had been too long.

      Which one of them breached the barrier Austin constructed yesterday evening? Probably her. A cuddler by nature, she missed it more than anything else, maybe even more than regular meals.

      Jay had been good at cuddling. That was about the only positive memory she had of him, and about the only compliment she could give him. It had taken her four years to discover just how big a mistake she’d made when she married him. She hadn’t known him at all. Since the divorce, she hadn’t looked back.

      She missed his hugs, though. Any human contact, in fact. Sensory deprivation was a tough thing.

      She wanted to touch people. She’d had too little of it in her past life. Maybe that’s why she’d been drawn to Jay, and willing to overlook his flaws for too long, because he’d offered a warm pair of arms and a solid chest to cuddle against. Not to mention she’d been young and naive enough to believe his lies.

      She crawled out of bed. She didn’t want to. It was the first clean bed she’d slept in in a long time. The first real bed, clean or otherwise. Her pillowcase smelled like a tropical island from her hair.

      She pulled on her pants, so Austin wouldn’t see how skinny her legs had gotten. She used to have shapely legs. They were strong from all the walking, but too thin, pared to the bone by the miles she’d traveled.

      When Austin stepped out of the bathroom in jeans and a snug-fitting white T-shirt, he looked good enough to have her consider climbing back into bed with him, and that was a shocker. She hadn’t been attracted to a man since Jay.

      In fact, she’d thought her libido had died with news of his infidelities. Yes, plural. Devastating.

      Boy, had she been wrong. Apparently, her libido had only been dormant and waiting for the right man to bring it raging back to life.

      A drop of water fell from Austin’s damp hair and landed on his neck.

      If she knew him well, if they were a couple, she would walk right over and lick it off and who knew where that might lead.

      In those first few months, when Jay had still been wooing her, she’d adored the love play, the giggling, the sex.

      Yes, sex. She missed it. Six years was a long time to go without.

       Stop. Austin isn’t for you. No man is. Stop thinking about love games and desire. You can’t have them.

      No sense getting maudlin and wishing for things that couldn’t be hers. Time to screw on her head right, to put the practical ahead of the whimsical.

      It was time for her to hit the road. Before she did, she was taking one more shower and washing her hair again, just for the pure pleasure of it.

      She didn’t say a word when she passed Austin and closed the door behind her. Neither did he.

      Did he feel as awkward as she did?

      She had gone to bed with a stranger, and had awakened in his arms. Oh, those arms. Oh, that warm touch.

      Get a grip, Gracie.

      As though she might not be able to use conditioner for another year, she slathered it on, even though her hair was short. She cut it regularly. Herself. It showed.

      When she finished washing and dressing, she forced herself to look in the mirror. Austin’s body had reacted to her purely as any man’s would to waking up with any woman. What man would want her—an escapee from a Charles Dickens novel, a waif with big eyes in a too-narrow face, who wore ragged clothing and picked pockets for a living? Well, not for a living, but that was what she’d done to Austin yesterday.

      Too bad he’d been a cop.

      Too bad he was a decent guy.

      She’d met every kind of person on the road. She could have stolen a wallet from a jerk, but no, she had unwittingly dipped her fingers into the pocket of the most decent guy she’d met in years. And, in the space of twenty-four hours, she already liked him.

       Don’t go getting any ideas. It’s because he didn’t have you arrested when he could have. This is nothing more than gratitude, pure and simple.

      Even so, she liked him more than she should, and far too quickly. Holy crapola. She needed to get away from him.

      She left the bathroom to find Austin already packed and on the phone.

      “Okay, we’ll see you in fifteen minutes.” He hung up.

      He turned from the window. “Good morning.”

      She said the same thing, just as quietly.

      “Are you hungry?”

      “Starved.”

      “What else is new?” he teased, as though they were good friends used to ribbing each other. “Come on. Let’s get going. Finn’s waiting.”

      “Go where?”

      “To breakfast.”

      “You know I don’t have money. You fed me yesterday and last night and paid for this hotel room. I can’t take any more from you.”

      “What are you going to do about breakfast?”

      “Nothing.”

      “Listen, I’m not going to let you walk away hungry. It isn’t in me to do that.”

      She wanted food. She wanted what this man had to offer with no strings attached. He’d sure proven his decency last night. She’d curled against him and he hadn’t taken advantage. Other men would have. But it hurt to take, to compromise her independence. She couldn’t do it.

      “It’s too hard for me to keep taking from you. I’ll go for breakfast—thanks—but only if we come back here afterward and you let me give you the haircut I promised.”

      He ran his fingers through his hair, leaving ridges in the damp waves. “That bad, huh?”

      No. Not bad at all. “A bit.” She liked it long, but needed to give him something and this was all she had to offer.

      “Okay.” He stuck out his hand to shake. “Deal.”

      She took it with a sigh, relief flooding her. She didn’t like dealing with people, didn’t like owing, and no longer liked giving. Her current motto, Live and let live, and leave me alone, had served her well for six years. No need to change it now.

      She would cut his hair, then leave. Run. Get away from this guy who tempted her with possibilities that just couldn’t be.

      He zipped up his bag. “I’m done packing. Let’s go.”

      “What about your other stuff?” she asked.

      “What stuff?”

      “The shampoo and conditioner, the body wash and toothpaste you bought yesterday.”

      “Those are yours.”

      “Mine?” she squeaked. Whole bottles. Not samples she managed to pick up at drug stores. Or tiny travel bottles that lasted through two shampoos.

      “You think I want to walk around smelling like coconut and pineapples and strawberries? Go get it and pack it.”

      Feet on fire, she scrambled back to the bathroom. No way was she leaving anything behind. She picked up everything he’d bought, but also took the bottles provided by the hotel. In the garbage can, she found the paper from the tiny bar of hotel soap and wrapped the bit that was left after Austin had used it. Waste not, want not.

      It all went into her backpack.

      When she