When You Were Mine (Second Chances 2)

Once they were in the bedroom, he set her down on the edge of the king-size bed and asked, “You want something more comfortable to sleep in?”

“Is this another sad attempt to convert me into a Hawks fan, Jamie? We’ve talked about this,” she asked, grinning.

He grinned at the memory. The first time they slept together was right after a Hawks-Panthers game. They had gone with Evan and Taryn. He’d had to listen to her and Taryn both cracking jokes about the Hawks getting their asses kicked on the way back to his place.

When he’d tossed his wallet and keys down, she had accused him of pouting. He was forced to admit that he was indeed pouting, but she’d been quick to take his mind off of it. All thoughts of anything but her had disappeared from his head when she had crawled into his lap and straddled him.

Thing had been really tame between them up until that point. She had been relatively inexperienced, so he hadn’t wanted to push her. He could still feel her hot breath against his cheek, hear her timid little voice when she had asked, “Be my first?”

He’d already been half in love with her, but in that moment, he fell the rest of the way. It wasn’t the sex, but the trust that she’d placed in him. She had been so open and earnest. It had destroyed him.

Hell. It still did, he realized.

Afterward, when she lay curled up in his bed, he tried valiantly to make her wear a Hawks shirt, to no avail. She was nothing, if not stubborn. He’d made it a point to tease her with it any chance he got after that.

Moving back into the present, he laughed and said, “I’d never,” as he pulled a T-shirt out of his dresser drawer, then tossed it to her.

She caught it in one hand and inspected it. Thankfully, she seemed to have no gripes against Social Distortion.

He had already changed into a pair of gym shorts the minute he’d gotten home, so he wandered back into the kitchen to get two bottles of water.

As he walked back in the room, she was standing in her panties and in the process of taking off her bra. He stood there, watching as she slid the shirt over her head. Seeing her standing there in his shirt...it did things to him.

When her head popped through she gave him a knowing look and smirked.

“What?” he asked. “A man can’t just enjoy the show?”

Cora shrugged one delicate shoulder and then yawned again.

His lips quirking, he said, “Here you go, sleepy,” as he passed her a bottle of water.

She set it on the nightstand and then pulled the covers back. As she slid into bed, she made a noise of contentment.

He followed quickly behind her, shutting off the bedside lamp. As soon as he had slipped beneath the covers, Cora immediately adjusted herself to lie against his side. When her legs twined with his, he let out his own sigh of contentment.

As his hand drifted up to play with her hair, she said, “This is absolutely perfect.”

“Yeah. It is,” he agreed. There was nowhere he’d rather be.

He continued to stroke a hand through her hair as he marveled at the changes over the last couple of months. He’d been this close to taking the VP position. He’d still be at work, most likely. Sure, he’d have been making more money. That would have been nice, but there wasn’t much point in having money if you didn’t have any time or real inclination to spend it.

Instead, he had ended up back home with something far more valuable. Brushing a kiss over the top of Cora’s head, he said, “Night, sweetheart.”

Seconds later she murmured, “Night,” as she drifted off to sleep.

Jamie closed his eyes and enjoyed the warm feeling of contentment. Life was good.

* * * *

Before he even opened his eyes, Jamie knew Cora had gotten out of bed. The smell of bacon was what roused him. It wasn’t that he was upset about breakfast, but he’d had plans that morning. Those plans had included talking her into making French toast later. Much, much later. He grimaced.

It was time to get up, he supposed.

A few minutes later, he wandered into the kitchen and said, “Mm. That smells great. You didn’t have to make breakfast though.”

She turned from the stove, where she stood, to look at him. She was still wearing his T-shirt, and her hair was in a messy bun. The makeup was long gone from her face. He’d never seen her look more beautiful.

“Morning,” she said, a slow, sleepy grin pulling across her face. “I figured you’d be hungry.”