which looked amazingly inviting. He slipped his arm under her head and she snuggled into his side, yawning. She could fall asleep like that. So much for separate bedrooms.
"I love the way you look afterwards," he said after a while, and when she opened her eyes he was gazing at her with fervor.
"What?" she said, checking her face in the mirror. "You mean the raccoon eyes and smudged lipstick and sweaty hair? Nice."
"No, I mean the flushed cheeks and swollen lips and that relaxed glow about you that just spells out well-fucked. Don't give me that look, it's totally mutual. Even if I am feeling smug."
His candor was so disarming that Emmy burst out laughing. Besides, he spoke the truth. She was feeling exceptionally well-fucked. And happy.
They managed to fall asleep entwined in each other's arms for maybe an hour, and when Emmy woke up, she was nose to nose with Eric, who looked like a kid when he slept, his impossibly long lashes dark on his pale cheeks and his usual smirk replaced by a soft almost-pout. On impulse, she planted a kiss on the corner of his mouth, and watched as he blinked his eyes open, clearly startled. The slow smile that lit up his face when he realized where he was hit her right in the center of her chest.
"You know, for a moment there, I thought I was dreaming," he said with a yawn. "But apparently you've had a moment of weakness and fallen prey to my dastardly seduction techniques."
"Apparently. And I'm now thinking, if we don't get some food now, I might regret my temporary insanity."
"I think you'll find this comes with a fully stocked kitchen as well as a bar, actually."
It sounded too good to be true, and she just had to go and investigate. But as she tried to wriggle out of his embrace, Eric stilled her with his arm around her shoulder.
"Don't. Wait. I'll make something for you — just...stay here a little while longer. I'm not ready to let you go."
She couldn't deny it felt pretty much wonderful to be back in his arms, and the bed was phenomenally comfortable. Eric might be awake, but he hadn't quite shaken off the sleep from his face, and with it the soft unguarded look that made her want to hug him. If she was honest with herself, there was more than a little feeling there.
"So," he said as she lay her head on his chest and snuggled closer to him, "I don't think I've thanked you properly for flying all the way across the country to indulge me. But I am extremely grateful. Especially seeing the way things have turned out."
"I admit, it's a long way to fly for a booty call."
"Don't, Em. I..."
He cleared his throat, and his grip on her shoulder tightened fractionally.
"I meant it when I said I needed your help for tomorrow. But ever since I found out about Owen, I figured out that I wanted to try and fix things with you as much as I do with him. Or more. I mean, obviously, it's completely different but..."
The sincerity in his tone had Emmy stunned as Eric stumbled through his words.
"The thing is, Em, Owen — finding Owen — it's part of something that's been missing my whole life. So...in a way, I know how to live without it. It's something I've been coping with for so many years...I know it might well fail — it's probably the most likely option, actually, but I have to try. Not just for my sake, but for Mum's. And his. It's terrifying, but...it's a pain I know. And the fact that I was able to get him out of Afghanistan, God, it goes a long way to helping me deal with the guilt I’ve felt for the past seventeen years. You, though, you only just entered my life, and then you left — well, I made you leave, and it's been like a raw wound since then. Agony. If I have any chance of getting you back, I can't let it pass, and, Emmy, I want it to work out. I've missed you more than I can express."
His voice cracked, and he pushed on.
"I know this sounds melodramatic and rushed, and probably the worst timing. But I think — well, fuck that, I know — I'm falling in love with you. There. I've said it."
He stopped abruptly, and Emmy was left speechless, and buffeted by a swirl of emotions and an