Chapter 21

My mind obviously plays a dirty trick on me. This is all it is. My imagination runs away from me yet again; it happens way too much these days. Honestly, it does.

* * * *

Jobe finds his way into my Cape Cod the next morning. Maybe through a kitchen window. Maybe through the basement door I’ve probably forgotten to lock. He climbs the stairs, steps inside my bedroom, and strips out of his clothes. It sounds as if he drops them to the floor, next the bed. Seconds later, he slips onto the mattress, behind me.

I face away from him as he spoons me. I feel his nakedness against my back and bottom.

His body is warm and sweaty; I don’t mind. His nose gently nudges my shoulders, and he whispers, “Parker, are you awake?”