that.
The clock ticked on the mantel as she let herself in through the back door and pulled off her sandals. She didn’t want to wake anyone. When she reached the second floor, she turned right. She had the large corner room on the end, directly below where Phillip and Marilyn Jordan now slept. It was a nice room, and though she’d offered to move to a smaller one when she and Aunt Ginny had decided to open to guests, Aunt Ginny wouldn’t hear of it.
It had been the room Andie had slept in since she’d been a little girl, and it would remain her room. She hadn’t argued. She hadn’t wanted to turn those memories over to strangers, anyway. It was her room. And chances were good it would be her room for a long time. Possibly forever.
A breath whispered past her lips as she stepped inside without turning on any lights. Was that how her life was really going to play out? Alone? Forever? She was only twenty-nine, for crying out loud. It didn’t make sense to throw in the towel yet. But then, she’d likely have to quit working so hard if she wanted anything more. Possibly quit working altogether if she wanted kids.
She leaned back against the wall, thumping her head softly in the dark as the thought rolled through her.
It wasn’t realistic in this day and age that in order to raise kids she’d have to be a stay-at-home mom, but what floored her was the fact that the idea didn’t upset her as it once had. When she’d been with Mark before, that had been one of their many arguments. He’d claimed he didn’t mind if she worked, yet something had bothered him about the idea of her not being there for any kids they might have. He’d never admitted it out loud, but she’d always felt it. Since his mother hadn’t worked, she’d assumed he’d expected the same from his wife.
Yet honestly, that had never felt quite right, either. Something had just been “off” when it came to him and talking about kids. Not that he didn’t want them. He did. But something odd, which she’d never quite been able to put her finger on, had lingered in any such discussion they’d had.
She shook her head, clearing it from the past, and from thoughts of giving up her life to raise kids. That wasn’t who she was. She was a career woman. Just like her mother.
She was also very much like her aunt, who had been alone and happy since she was thirty-five. So it wasn’t out of the question that Andie might follow suit.
But she wanted sex.
She thumped her head against the wall again.
Her inner voice had recently developed the silly notion that there was more to life than going home alone every night and burning up the occasional battery-powered device. It wanted hard-core, full-body-contact extracurricular activities.
And right now, it wanted that with Mark.
Ridiculous, but ever since that scorcher of a kiss, her insides had been lit up like a Christmas tree. Her libido suddenly remembered what sex was and it wanted it.
But with Mark? Really? She couldn’t have grown and evolved over the years?
Why did he have to be the one who still set her on fire?
She plopped down on her bed, making a face in the dark, and wondered what it was about him that made it near impossible to put him out of her mind.
It was all the abstinence, she decided. Her friends had been right. She should have started dating again a long time ago. Then the first sighting of Mark wouldn’t have made her remember with clarity how good he was with his hands. And other parts of his body.
Go out with a few men, kiss a few. Surely someone would wake her up like Mark did.
She rose and went to the sliding doors to push them open, wanting to hear the night. Seeing the slow, straight rain coming down, she tossed her e-reader on the nightstand and went to the mini refrigerator she kept in the room. It was the perfect night for a glass of wine and a quiet, introspective sit on the deck. She’d think about the men she knew from the island, and figure out who she would
The clock ticked on the mantel as she let herself in through the back door and pulled off her sandals. She didn’t want to wake anyone. When she reached the second floor, she turned right. She had the large corner room on the end, directly below where Phillip and Marilyn Jordan now slept. It was a nice room, and though she’d offered to move to a smaller one when she and Aunt Ginny had decided to open to guests, Aunt Ginny wouldn’t hear of it.
It had been the room Andie had slept in since she’d been a little girl, and it would remain her room. She hadn’t argued. She hadn’t wanted to turn those memories over to strangers, anyway. It was her room. And chances were good it would be her room for a long time. Possibly forever.
A breath whispered past her lips as she stepped inside without turning on any lights. Was that how her life was really going to play out? Alone? Forever? She was only twenty-nine, for crying out loud. It didn’t make sense to throw in the towel yet. But then, she’d likely have to quit working so hard if she wanted anything more. Possibly quit working altogether if she wanted kids.
She leaned back against the wall, thumping her head softly in the dark as the thought rolled through her.
It wasn’t realistic in this day and age that in order to raise kids she’d have to be a stay-at-home mom, but what floored her was the fact that the idea didn’t upset her as it once had. When she’d been with Mark before, that had been one of their many arguments. He’d claimed he didn’t mind if she worked, yet something had bothered him about the idea of her not being there for any kids they might have. He’d never admitted it out loud, but she’d always felt it. Since his mother hadn’t worked, she’d assumed he’d expected the same from his wife.
Yet honestly, that had never felt quite right, either. Something had just been “off” when it came to him and talking about kids. Not that he didn’t want them. He did. But something odd, which she’d never quite been able to put her finger on, had lingered in any such discussion they’d had.
She shook her head, clearing it from the past, and from thoughts of giving up her life to raise kids. That wasn’t who she was. She was a career woman. Just like her mother.
She was also very much like her aunt, who had been alone and happy since she was thirty-five. So it wasn’t out of the question that Andie might follow suit.
But she wanted sex.
She thumped her head against the wall again.
Her inner voice had recently developed the silly notion that there was more to life than going home alone every night and burning up the occasional battery-powered device. It wanted hard-core, full-body-contact extracurricular activities.
And right now, it wanted that with Mark.
Ridiculous, but ever since that scorcher of a kiss, her insides had been lit up like a Christmas tree. Her libido suddenly remembered what sex was and it wanted it.
But with Mark? Really? She couldn’t have grown and evolved over the years?
Why did he have to be the one who still set her on fire?
She plopped down on her bed, making a face in the dark, and wondered what it was about him that made it near impossible to put him out of her mind.
It was all the abstinence, she decided. Her friends had been right. She should have started dating again a long time ago. Then the first sighting of Mark wouldn’t have made her remember with clarity how good he was with his hands. And other parts of his body.
Go out with a few men, kiss a few. Surely someone would wake her up like Mark did.
She rose and went to the sliding doors to push them open, wanting to hear the night. Seeing the slow, straight rain coming down, she tossed her e-reader on the nightstand and went to the mini refrigerator she kept in the room. It was the perfect night for a glass of wine and a quiet, introspective sit on the deck. She’d think about the men she knew from the island, and figure out who she would
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