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couldn’t see it. But somehow she knew he
was smiling, too.

Chapter 7
     
     
               
Sometime in the night, Molly must have gone to her own bed, because Joely was
vaguely aware of rolling into the warm spot the little girl vacated. Ben’s arms
folded around her, and she snuggled into his side, not caring if it was the
right thing to do. It felt right, and that’s all that mattered.
               
His deep, even breaths matched hers, and she settled more comfortably on his
shoulder, where he’d tucked her head. He’d removed his flannel shirt and wore
only his t-shirt, so his body heat quickly penetrated through her clothes. His
heartbeat vibrated against her ear, and she drowsily lifted her arm to cross
his chest, lying beside him the way she used to, what seemed forever ago.
               
She’d thought she’d forget what it was like to share a bed with Ben once she’d
met Matt Rivers. Matt was sexy and charming, and his posters adorned the walls
of teenage girls from sea to shining sea. Everywhere they went mobs of
screaming girls and paparazzi followed them. At first, it was exhilarating
knowing that everyone wanted her handsome new boyfriend. As time wore on, it
was quickly apparent that he was more interested in his popularity than her or
her kids.
               
Breaking up with Matt was probably the best thing that could have happened.
Molly and Ian needed stability in their lives, and Matt was certainly not ready
to offer that. She wondered if he even liked her kids. Probably, since he was
mostly a kid himself.
               
“What are you thinking?” Ben’s voice was a lazy murmur.
               
“Nothing.”
               
“It’s something, because I can almost hear the wheels in your brain turning.”
               
Talking about Matt with Ben didn’t seem like a good idea, so she shrugged as
best as she could, pinned as she was against him. “I was thinking that it felt
nice, lying here with you.”
               
She regretted speaking a second later. Wasn’t this every cliché in the book?
Hooking up with one’s ex at the holidays was practically a requirement in the
lives of the divorcees she knew. To have a whirlwind winter fling was nothing
new to them.
               
She shouldn’t have worried. He ran his fingers through her hair, all the way
down its length. “I don’t know what it is, babe, but I’m glad for it. I’ve
missed you.” His bicep flexed for a second while he gave her a squeeze.
               
“I’ve missed you, too.” Her voice was a strangled whisper. She closed her eyes
and nearly held her breath as he shifted his position to face her. His knee
nudged hers, and she lifted her leg over his a second later, laughing when he
did. A thousand tingles sprang up beneath her clothes when he trailed his hand
down her back and then to her leg, caressing her over her jeans. His breath was
teasingly close on her face. If she moved just an inch, her lips would brush
his.
               
“I can’t make any promises…” he began, then stopped.
               
“Me neither.”
               
“For all I know,” his lips skimmed hers, “the airport will reopen and you’ll
fly out of here and never look back.”
               
She slid her hand up his heavily muscled arm, relishing the feel of the bulk of
him. Her fingers locked behind his head.
               
“You have to admit,” she murmured, her lips vibrating against his, “this is a
whole lot better than fighting.”
               
If he was going to reply, his words were drowned out by a deep and passionate
kiss. She clung to him, her arms wrapped so tightly around his neck he gasped
for air. She blinked in the dim glow of the approaching sunrise, staring at his
face while the shadows lightened and they remained motionless.
               
“I