Seconds later, the mattress sagged under his weight. The force of it nearly pulled her to the center, but she braced herself on the edge. The bed shimmied, and the covers shifted as he slid under them. His foot brushed hers, and she fought the urge to pull away. How had it gotten past the barrier?

Breathe deeply. I’m asleep.

When he finally stilled, the only sound was the ticking clock and the waves. And her own breath. She could even hear her heart. Her arm, pushed under her pillow, ached, but she didn’t move. How awkward would it be if he realized she was awake and started a conversation? What was he wearing over there, anyway? She was afraid to know.

Kate opened her eyes and stared at the big lump beside her. He was facing the other way, and already his breathing had evened out. Not fair. How long would she lie awake? Why couldn’t she go to sleep?

She tried to think about her book, about next week’s article, about anything other than the very male body inches away. Her skin prickled with heat, and she wished she could throw off the covers.

A few minutes later, a quick snort pierced the silence. Three seconds later a long grating snore sounded.

And he’s off to the races.

Kate closed her eyes on a sigh.

Ten

Ten

Communication is the thread that holds the relationship together. If it’s not there, everything unravels.

—Excerpt from Finding Mr. Right-for-You by Dr. Kate

Lucas pushed open his parents’ door, and Kate entered the bright two-story cottage. She could only hope his family didn’t enter his house as freely. They were seventeen minutes late—a fact that didn’t seem to bother Lucas at all. How a man could be late when he’d done nothing but piddle around all morning, Kate had no clue.

Inside the door, an oval braided rug covered aged wooden planks, and daylight poured in from the transom over the door. Voices and clattering pans sounded from the back of the house, and the smell of fried chicken beckoned.

“We’re here,” Lucas called, shutting the door.

Jamie scurried into the cozy foyer and hugged Kate first. “Hi, Kate. Hi, Lucas.”

They followed Jamie into the cheery yellow kitchen where Roy drained skinless potatoes in a strainer over the porcelain sink. Susan, her tiny frame wrapped in a lavender apron, turned from the stove long enough to give a brisk nod and say hello.

Jamie disappeared, and for the next few minutes Lucas made small talk with his parents before Roy shooed them from the kitchen. “Go on up and get settled. The kids are already up there.”

“What should I get you to drink?” Susan asked Kate.

“Whatever you have is fine . . .”

Susan’s penciled-in eyebrows hiked, clearly indicating she was waiting for a better answer.