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much.”
    “But you made it like our baby never existed.”
    Just a few feet of lawn separated them, but it occurred to Nick it might as well be an ocean. They’d each suffered their grief in different languages the other was hopeless to comprehend. He tried anyway, groping for the right words. “I felt so helpless,” he said. “I wanted to make everything better, make you happy. But there wasn’t a thing I could do.”
    “I needed you so badly,” she whispered. “I booked that room for us—I thought it would be so romantic, that we could start to find our way back to how things had been. When you said you were too busy, I was just so mad.”
    “So you picked up a guy and took him up to your room.”
    “I shouldn’t have invited Jean-Luc up, I know that now,” she said tiredly. “I’m so sorry, Nick.”
    “Yeah, I’m sorry, too,” he said, surprised at the sound of his voice. There was no anger in it. He really was just sorry—at the whole sad mess they’d made of their lives together.
    Afterwards, he was never quite sure exactly how it happened, if Lucy started walking toward him, or if he took the steps needed to close the space between them, but suddenly they were in each other’s arms. She clung to him, her blonde head tucked neatly against his shoulder just as he remembered, and he inhaled the sunshine fragrance of her hair.
    “Sorry,” he said, worried that he was holding her too tightly, then realized she was holding on just as hard. He could feel the clamor of her heart against his chest, sense her turmoil. A part of him knew this was a very bad idea. But he couldn’t seem to bring himself to release her, and he was in turmoil himself. His heart was pounding, his emotions churning wildly, and desire was rising. Three more seconds, he thought. And then he’d let go of her. He’d take a step back and allow sanity to return.
    Lucy looked up at him, and Nick was lost.
    ****
    When his lips covered hers, Lucy was unable to think. All she could do was feel—the heat and need in Nick’s kisses, his hard body against hers—and then his hand found her breast, and he gently tugged at her nipple. A desperate moan escaped her, and she pressed against him, hard, feeling herself grow hot and wet with longing.
    A vague thought entered her fevered brain—they should not be doing this out in the open. At the same time she thought she’d die if he stopped, and clung to him with all her strength. His erection dug into her belly. Lucy’s heart thundered and when her lips parted, Nick’s tongue swept inside, tasting her.
    Clumsily, they somehow found their way inside. Lucy almost sobbed with relief when they made it to the bedroom and he tumbled her down on the bed, falling on top of her and releasing her breasts. Groaning, he buried his face in their fullness. He licked her nipples, grazing the tender pink buds with his tongue.
    Lucy reached down between their bodies, her hand trembling as she tugged at his fly. He helped her, and her fingers found him and enclosed his hot, rigid length, stroking and caressing.
    “God, Lucy,” he muttered, as if in torment.
    Their kisses became even hotter, increasing in urgency. Nick’s hands slid downward, his fingers gliding over her stomach and dipping lower inside her shorts and panties, encountering soft, wet heat.
    Lucy hardly dared to breathe as he touched her, his fingers sliding and playing, remembering exactly what she liked. Her desperation mounted, and she was almost weeping with need when he began dragging off his jeans and Lucy wriggled free of her shorts. She spread her legs, wrapped them around him, and Nick thrust deeply inside her, again and again and again. Lucy rose to meet him, feeling her release gathering force, uncoiling, until she seemed to explode, and the force of it, the dizzying rush of bliss, made her sob out Nick’s name.
    There were two more times that night, slower and sweeter, where they took their time and reveled in the pleasure