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bittersweet. He’d made love to her beside the stainless-steel refrigerator because his eyes went smoky, her insides turned liquid and they simply couldn’t hold back. In fact, the day they moved in he’d declared his intention to make love to her in every room of the house. They’d nearly met that challenge.
    She scanned the family room with its big flat-screen TV and the dark green corner group in front of it. In spite of all her efforts to stop it, a big sigh leaked out.
    Nick stopped beside her. “Are you okay?”
    â€œFine.” Afraid he would see the lie, she didn’t look at him. “Why?”
    â€œYou’re awfully quiet.”
    â€œJust checking out the old stomping grounds.”
    He rested his hands on lean hips. His jeans were worn nearly white in the most interesting places. The long sleeves of his navy-blue shirt were rolled up, revealing wide wrists and a dusting of dark hair on his forearms. He always dressed casually, and right now was no exception. It also wasn’t an indication of whether or not he was working. He’d told her Carlton Gallagher was on call today, and she wondered if she should feel honored. Maybe tomorrow. “And?”
    â€œWhat?” She was a little disturbed by how easily one look at him could annihilate her concentration.
    â€œHow does it look? Your old stomping grounds.”
    â€œThe same,” she answered truthfully. “I was just remembering how festive everything was at Christmas.”
    The corners of his mouth turned up. “You mean with the tree in here instead of the living room?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œI stand by what I said then.”
    â€œAs do I.” She could feel the warmth from his body and smell the slightly spicy scent of his skin. Quivers started inside her and rippled everywhere. Bumping up against the bittersweet recollections. “The decorated tree would have been fabulous in the front window as people drove by and looked at the outside decorations.”
    â€œBut we wouldn’t have enjoyed it.” He held out his hand and indicated the large room. “Here, we could see it along with a fire in the fireplace, watching TV, or eating dinner.”
    His insistence was ironic since he’d hardly ever been there for dinner, nights in front of the fire, or watching TV together. But that was water under the bridge.
    â€œYou won. We did it your way.” She’d given in because making him happy was her goal. Now it was her turn to get what she wanted.
    â€œOther than that, how does it look?” he asked.
    â€œThe same. And I’m a little surprised.”
    â€œRedecorating isn’t my thing.” The teasing tone was missing from his voice.
    Was he feeling nostalgic, too? Not the Nick she remembered.
    â€œThat’s not what I meant.” She looked up at him. “I’m surprised you didn’t sell the house after the divorce.”
    â€œI had my reasons.”
    The dark look in his eyes made her wonder. “Such as?”
    â€œI didn’t get around to it, then the housing market tanked. Moving is time-consuming and it really doesn’t much matter where I get my mail.”
    All practical reasons, she thought. If the situation had been reversed, she’d have sold it at a loss simply becauseit was too painful to share the space with the ghosts of what would never be.
    â€œAnd I’m hardly ever here,” he added.
    That wasn’t new information. It was time to move forward. Literally.
    â€œSo,” she said brightly. “Where do you want me?”
    A sexy smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “Do I get a vote?”
    She didn’t have to ask where his thoughts had gone. That made two of them, but she wasn’t here for that sex. This wasn’t personal.
    â€œI meant which bedroom.”
    â€œTake your pick,” he said. “Although there’s not really much of a choice.”
    She walked upstairs