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to slide in next to her, bite her bottom lip, and then lick her silly, but he’d have to relegate that joy to his dreams.
    *     *     *
    When the door shut, Ellie plastered her clothes to her chest, placed her feet on the floor, and rushed to the bathroom. The throbbing in her temple increased to the point where she feared her brain might bleed. She set the clothes on the counter and leaned over the sink, praying for some relief. Dear Lord, what have I done?
    Her mouth tasted like dirt and gravel. She couldn’t remember drinking this much. Ever. What had she been thinking? Clearly, she hadn’t been.
    When she’d first woken up, she couldn’t believe Vic was in her room. Here she thought she’d actually dreamed him. Then the image of some guy in a suit talking to her at the bar entered her brain. Next thing she remembered was Vic tugging off her pants and shirt. The final memory was her sitting up in bed and showing him her tits. Could this get any worse? Now, he’d believe she wanted him.
    Okay, she did in a way. Actually, what she’d wanted was a pleasant experience to dampen the nightmare, but in her drunken state, she hadn’t realized that if she had given into her carnal desires that it would complicate matters too much. Charlotte had been hurt once, and Ellie didn’t need to make things worse.
    She turned on the water and stepped into the shower. Even though she washed her hair vigorously and scrubbed her body hard, no amount of heat or cleaning could take away the embarrassment of her practically propositioning Vic. Jeez, she was a mess.
    Now what was she supposed to do? He had to realize that she found him attractive. She’d admit that when he was near, she felt safe, but that wouldn’t be enough in the long run. Keeping her distance was the only option, mostly because she needed to give Vic space to focus on finding this guy. He didn’t need her to upset the balance of his life.
    The room door opened and feet shuffled. “Be right out,” she called.
    For a split second, she thought perhaps someone else might have come into her room until she realized Vic would have stopped anyone from getting near.
    “Food’s ready,” he called out.
    She smiled—but sobered instantly when a sharp ache stabbed her eye. His comment implied she had to hurry. Vic hated when food wasn’t piping hot, whereas she could take it any temperature. They had more differences than similarities, but those first years of marriage had been idyllic. Her hand went to her belly. When they’d found out she was pregnant, Vic had gone crazy with joy. He couldn’t wait to feel the baby kick and even insisted on singing to Charlotte before she was born. When their daughter was three, he was deployed to Afghanistan. When he returned, he was never the same.
    She stepped out of the shower, toweled off, and dressed. Thinking about the good old days wouldn’t help her sanity one bit. She dressed as quickly as she could, not caring that her damp hair stuck out. She opened the door and the rich aroma of food almost made her gag. Her stomach was not ready to eat, but she knew she had to try.
    “Found some aspirin.” Vic stepped close and held out two pills and a glass of orange juice.
    His presence made her pulse rise, which only caused the pounding to worsen. “Thanks, but do me a favor?”
    “Sure.”
    “Don’t let me drink again. Ever.”
    He chuckled. “I think you’ve learned your lesson. What made you do it?”
    She shrugged. “Just all the shit coming down at once made for some bad decisions.” She swallowed the pills, along with half the juice, and handed him back the glass.
    “Come sit at the table and have a bite,” he said.
    She agreed mostly because she wanted to know what he’d found out. Once seated, she placed a few bites of scrambled eggs on her plate, along with a slice of bacon and a half piece of whole-wheat toast. “May I have some coffee?” She nodded to the white carafe next to him.
    He poured them