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an effort to push him back. Instead, she closed her eyes and flashed back to an image of the last time they’d made love. So vivid the recollection, she could feel his muscled thighs pressing against her legs. She remembered how good he’d felt inside her, moving in and out of her like they existed as one person, one entity. Her fingers itched to move over to his nipple to circle it, tease it, get him to moan again.
    Without warning, the support of the door behind her vanished. She opened her eyes and stumbled backward, nearly hitting the floor until Gunnar wrapped his arm around her waist to save her.
    “Sorry.” He stared into her eyes. “Should have told you I was opening the door.” Gunnar helped right her before backing away.
    Eboni ran her hand over her hair. “You have a tendency of doing that, don’t you? I get a little comfortable and then you pull the rug from under me.”
    She should be angry for letting Gunnar get physically close to her. She’d forgotten that Queen Elizabeth raised gentlemen. Now that she thought about it, since Gunnar had gotten back, he’d opened all doors for her, even her car door. It shouldn’t have surprised her that he would have gotten this door too. She had to appreciate a man with manners.
    “Now you’re definitely talking about the past. Let’s talk about this.” Gunnar tried approaching her.
    Eboni moved away from him. He’d already gotten too close to her.
    She’d been inside Elizabeth’s house more than her own home. Being in it now with Gunnar, the mood felt different. The delicate touches of the lace doilies on the arms of the sofa and chairs seemed in conflict with the over six-foot man wearing a black sweatshirt, jeans, and motorcycle boots. The powder-pink walls contrasted with the muscular being that took up most of the landscape in the dwelling.
    “We talked about our plans. I wanted you to come with me to Vegas when I trained. You didn’t want to go.”
    Gunnar summing up their relationship in three sentences angered her. So much more had happened than her being offered to go with him and then turning him down.
    “Wow. So that’s all that happened between us?” She waved her hand in between their bodies. “What were my dreams? You talked about your career. What was my goal?”
    Gunnar remained quiet.
    “Was I taking care of anyone here at the time you wanted to go?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
    “You never told me you were caring for anyone. Were you?” He furrowed his eyebrows.
    “When I was going to tell you, you were too consumed talking about your career. When I was going to tell you, you dropped the bomb on me.”
    “Who was it?”
    Eboni shook her head. “Oh no. We are not in that place anymore.” She huffed. “You never asked me to marry you. You expected me to uproot my whole life to be with you without a promise of marriage.”
    She watched Gunnar’s jaw flex like he gritted his teeth.
    “I’m going up to my room.” Gunnar put his hand on the banister and started to go up to one of the four bedrooms.
    The fact that he didn’t address the most important aspect of her argument, the marriage that had never happened, drained her. At least she’d let her feelings be known.
    “Your bedroom is not there anymore.” Eboni stood behind him. “Your mother changed your room to a sewing room.” She knew that firsthand since she’d helped cart up the heavy sewing machine. “Your brothers’ rooms are now her gym and shoe room.”
    “You’re kidding.”
    Instead of waiting for her to confirm, he took the stairs by twos. From the bottom step, she heard Gunnar cursing. She shouldn’t laugh, but she couldn’t help it. She covered her mouth with her hand when she heard his heavy-booted footfalls stomping back down the stairs.
    “It has been a long time since you’ve been home.” Eboni shook her head.
    “The only room she didn’t touch was her bedroom.” He ran his hand over his head.
    “And that’s where I’m