Shared the same air.

Yeah, she knew it was never going to be more than this. But it was quite a lot as it was. And she wanted to memorize each and every detail of it.

She rolled to the side, looking at his profile, pressing her hand to his chest. It was well muscled and hot. There was hair there and she didn’t know if she’d ever tire of running her palm over it and feeling the difference in texture between his own skin and hers.

There was something exhilarating about this. About being in bed with him. Not just having sex, but being.

Under the covers. Against each other.

She took a deep breath, trying to ignore the pressure in her chest.

She felt another pressure—pressure in her bladder—and wiggled away from him. He grunted, a very masculine sound, and rolled over onto his back. She got out of bed and stood, facing him. There was just enough light in the room to make out the outline of his masculine form.

His arm was thrown up over his head, the blankets down around his waist, exposing his body.

He had a beautiful body.

A whole different kind of beauty than she was used to seeing. She enjoyed a view of the mountains as much as the next girl. But she didn’t usually want to press her face against it and lick it.

That was what she wanted to do to Gabe’s body. Every time she looked at it.

She shivered slightly and tiptoed into the bathroom, still completely naked.

They’d woken up a few times during the night, and he’d reached for her, and she’d gone to him willingly. At about two in the morning he’d made her toast and hot chocolate, and they’d both eaten in bed, before going back to sleep.

Just remembering it made her feel tingly all over. Then made her feel very tender in her chest.

She looked at herself in the mirror, looking for differences again. She didn’t look different. It was the strangest thing. She expected to see some vibrant, classically beautiful woman staring back at her. Someone who looked a lot more like Crystal from the bar. But it was just still Jamie. And she couldn’t deny that there was almost a comfort to that sameness. Gabe was responding to her.

Whether it made sense to her or not, that was the truth of it.

There must be some power inside her she couldn’t see. Some kind of feminine appeal in her slight curves, her athletic body. She doubted there was any in her stick-straight hair.

She stepped away from the mirror and went to the bathroom, and then returned to it, washing her hands and looking around at the items on the top of the counter.

She dried her hands slowly, taking inventory of what was there. A razor. Aftershave. A bottle of cologne—which was funny, because she didn’t think she’d ever smelled cologne on Gabe. Not that she was overly familiar. But her dad and brothers were the same. They had it, even if they didn’t wear it.