Making It Last (Camelot 4)

Her neck seemed so naked with her hair gone. As naked as the constellation of freckles over her right hip. She had a hollow there where he liked to put his mouth.

“You should work at a gym.” He was breaking character, but whatever. This was more important. “If that’s what you want, you should do it.”

She reached across the table and touched the back of his hand. “And you should build houses. Only houses.”

“I wish I could.”

“Why can’t you?”

But he couldn’t answer that question, and he couldn’t look away from her mouth.

He felt shaky, so he slid his hand out from under hers and took a drink. Wine always tasted like vinegar to him, but at least it was cold.

She gave him a little smile. An offering.

“Amber,” he said. Because she held his heart in her hands, and he would drink white wine with her forever if she would let him back in.

She pursed her lips. “Jennifer.”

Tony looked at the ocean.

He didn’t want to play anymore. He wanted to make love to his wife, to look in her eyes and know she was there and she was okay.

He wanted to make everything okay, through sheer force of will.

Not the kind of hope he could take to the bank.

“It’s time for more innuendo,” she said. “Your nipples are hard.”

“That wasn’t innuendo. And you’re not supposed to notice.”

“I’m supposed to notice. I’m just not supposed to say.”

“Either way. You’re not very good at this.”

“I hardly ever get complaints.”

That made her smile. “You’re so cocky, Steve. It’s lucky for you that I’ve always had a thing for cocky men.”

“I’m at least ninety percent cock, Jennifer.”

She snorted, and he knocked back a gulp of cold chardonnay, feeling like he’d accomplished something.

“You were supposed to ask if I liked my job,” she said.

“I was?”

“Yes. So I know that you’re interested in more than my nipples.”

“Oh, I am. I’m interested in a lot more than your nipples.”

“So say it.” Her eyes were happy.

“Say what?”

“ ‘How do you like being a trainer, Jennifer?’ ”

“I bet you like it a lot.”