house I shared with my husband.
Okay, stop this. I wasn’t a teenager anymore. And Clay was dead, even if he was in the house with us right now. Undead. Clay was undead.
Drew took his shirt off and a storm of desire whirled inside me. Good gods, he was hot. He had the body of a thirty-something bodybuilder, just not as huge. Broad shoulders, wide chest with more dips and valleys than the mountains. Then I remembered he worked out at the Shipton gym often. A few times a week, I believed. At least according to the rumor mill, aka Olivia.
Older men like Drew were why the label silver fox was created. He personified it from head to toe.
Was I going to lay beside him with no shirt on? How would I keep my hands to myself?
Tearing my gaze from him, I went to the box where I’d packed my clothes and dug out a clean pair of pajamas, then shut myself in the bathroom. Inside, I pressed my back against the door and tried to slow my heart rate.
Why was I so nervous? It wasn’t like Drew would do anything that I didn’t want him to. He wasn’t that sort of man, anyway. He was honorable and decent.
And so freaking hot!
I knew for a fact he only had good motives. I'd have sensed it if his intentions were bad.
That was another heightened ability I gained after taking on the High Witch position in the coven. My empathy was gaining strength. As far as I knew, it was part of the gig. After all, I’d need to be able to tell if someone was set on harming the coven, which was my responsibility now.
Especially after the mess with Bevan cursing the witches to die by odd and crazy accidents. It made sense that the High Witch spell would make the necessary magical adjustments to protect us all. I needed to get all this stuff wrapped up in Philly and get home to my proper place as High Priestess of the coven.
Pushing away from the door, I changed quickly and then stared at my reflection in the mirror. My long brown hair hung around my shoulders, wild and free. My green eyes were a little dull, giving away how tired I was. Or how stressed I was. And worried about Wade. Or all three.
Leaning forward, I brushed my teeth and gave myself a very quiet pep talk. “Okay, Ava Harper, you are a grown woman and there is nothing wrong with finding companionship after the death of your husband. It is the natural state of healing and moving on.” But Clay was here. Not in my bathroom or my bedroom, at the moment, but in the house. Sure, he was a ghost, and he was waiting on me to let him go so he could move on into the afterlife. At least I’d made him solid so he couldn’t sneak up on me or watch us sleep.
“Ready or not.” I rinsed the toothpaste out of my mouth, stuck my tongue out at myself, and exited the bathroom.
When I stepped into the bedroom, Drew was already in bed with the blanket pulled up to his waist. Looking sexy as Hades--the god and the place, both. My heart rate kicked up again and my flesh heated. I sure hoped he had shorts on under that blanket. If he was naked, I was so running away to sleep on the pull-out with my son.
"I have shorts on," he said with a grin. How had he known? It was like he’d read my mind. Maybe it was my face. I tended to wear my emotions all over it. Half the time it was some version of resting bitch face.
But his face… Oh, gods, that grin was wicked and full of temptation.
Once his words sank in, I started moving toward the bed. I had to stop standing there like an idiot. This was no big deal.
Shrugging, I tried to play it cool. "I wasn't worried. We're adults. There is no harm in us sleeping together.” Oh, no. That sounded wrong. It sounded like sex. “Erm, I mean sleeping in the same bed...beside each other...um, actually sleeping."
I was an idiot. A total idiot. Why did my brain not work? It sent stupid words to come out of my mouth.
He pulled the blanket back, and I caught a glimpse of his black shorts against the creamy white sheets. "Come on Ava. I promise to keep my hands to myself."
That