Left hot, bothered, and disappointed by Grant—the man she had high hopes for—Ava heads out on a ski weekend with a group of friends. Harrison, a twenty-three year old member of the group, can’t help but take notice of her and makes advances. Some of which Ava can’t brush aside when they are stuck sharing a room together. Will she give in to Harrison’s moves or go home and work things out with Grant?
The covers shifted again and I could feel the section near me, behind my back, lifting as he scooted closer. The warmth of his body was settled very close to and almost against mine, mirroring my shape like a puzzle piece. His voice was a low whisper in my ear, a single-syllable question. “Spoon?”
My mind went through rapid-fire calculations. Spoon? What would be the consequences of that? Should I do it? I churned through the outcomes of either saying yes or no but, after a moment, threw my pros and cons list out the window as the conclusion of, what the hell, why not? came to me. He was cute and I could use a little spooning. It wasn’t something I got to do often.
“Mm-hm.” I scooted backward into his embrace.
He slid his hand around my waist, his fingers sliding along my rib cage all the way around until he was cupping my other side. Then he nestled his face in my hair and inhaled my scent. “You smell nice,” he whispered.
“Thanks,” I murmured back. For some reason I kept my voice low as if talking too loud would break the spell. It felt so good to have all six feet of his firm body stretched along mine. Even pressed against my back I could sense the various muscles making contact with me. The slow rhythm of his breath just skimming my ear was nice. I let go of all the typical female questions that rose up in my mind at the scenario and enjoyed the moment.
There had been so many times in my life I had imagined waking up in bed with my husband just like this, feeling a new day awakening with me safe and cozy in my true love’s arms. It was one of those dreams that, now, was becoming painful to replay as my singleness continued to stretch out year after year. In a moment like this it was easy to take it out of the closet, dust it off, and use it as a sort of atmosphere to what was actually going on. When things like this happened it reinforced the fact that I really did want to get married. It was just a matter of Mr. Right showing up. No matter how my logical mind kept trying to force Grant into the shape of that hole, my true self stood back shaking its head and saying, “It’s not going to work. There’s too big of an issue there.”
After a few minutes of laying in silence together with the rise and fall of our chests matching, I could feel myself starting to slip away again into dreamland. But then Harrison shifted his hips, scooting closer to my backside. My eyes shot open as it registered exactly what was pressing against my ass and lower back.