of the bed.
Then, with a rakish black brow quirked, he grasped her ankle again and tugged her closer. A rush of pleasure filled her as her butt slid across the peach-colored cotton sheets.
“Ven pa’ca,” he bid, his deep voice encouraging her to come to him. Hands at her waist, he lifted her up so she could straddle his lap.
Sara laid her hands on his bare chest, marveling at her paler skin against his. Different, yet they shared so many similarities when it came to their family lives.
Luis’s hands slid slowly up her back, splaying over her shoulder blades, stopping when they came to rest at her nape. She melted under his tender ministrations. Marveled at how utterly beautiful and wanton she felt in his arms.
Overwhelmed by the swirl of lust and genuine affection coalescing inside her, Sara pressed her forehead to his. Her lids fluttered closed. The scent of ocean water, sweat, and sex surrounded her, a perfume she longed to bottle up and savor later.
“What a pair we are, huh?” Luis whispered.
Sara opened her eyes and met his gaze. Desperate to know what he was thinking. If he was as torn and conflicted about where they stood, about their pasts and the problems they had yet to face.
“What are we doing here?” she asked, unable to keep her doubts silent any longer.
Luis combed his fingers through her hair, tucking the loose tresses behind her ears. Tenderness blossomed in her chest when she noticed he still wore her ponytail holder on his wrist where he’d slipped it on after gently removing it from her hair earlier.
“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “You challenge me in ways I normally resist. But somehow, with you it’s different.”
He ran the pad of his thumb along her jaw, an awed expression in his eyes as they tracked the caress.
“You make me want to try. Make me want . . . things I haven’t allowed myself to want in a really long time.”
Humbled by his admission, Sara tucked her head in the crook of his neck. His strong arms wrapped around her and she nestled in his protective embrace.
“It’s probably just the great sex fogging your brain,” she teased, relying on humor to mask the intensity of her emotions.
His chuckle rumbled in her ear. “Could be. But I’d be lying if I said that was all.”
His honesty sobered her.
“How about if we take this”—she traced her palm lightly over his pec, awed by the combination of his soft skin over the hard muscle—“one day at a time? See where it leads.”
Not quite the Would You Rather question pitting her against his ex that Sara had kept to herself earlier, but she wasn’t courageous enough to put that out there. Yet.
“And on Friday we’ll decide?” Luis trailed off at the mention of the end date of their original agreement.
Sara waited for him to continue.
When he didn’t say anything, she interpreted it as a silent, mutual decision to deal with that when the time came.
Her cell trilled an incoming text message alert. Sara bit back a resigned sigh at the interruption. It trilled a second time, and she reached over to grab the phone off her nightstand.
A message from her mother popped up on the screen: Finished golfing. Ordered clubhouse drinks. Home in 45.
Sara imagined her mom typing the message like she rattled off orders in the OR. Direct. No-nonsense. No emotion, or emoticons, involved.
“It’s my mom,” she told Luis. “Looks like they’ll be here in less than an hour.”
“Okay.” The uncertainty in his single-word response mimicked Sara’s sentiments.
Dejected, she set her phone on the bed, then snuggled back in his arms.
Her gaze cut to her cell, her message app still open. Three little dots hovered underneath her mother’s first message. Seconds later, another text appeared: Love you.
Like the Florida sun peeking through the clouds to cast its rays through the bedroom skylight, clarity brightened Sara’s perspective. Her mom was trying. Making a true effort to change their relationship. So were her dad and Jonathan.
Maybe, instead of stressing about what-ifs, she should simply accept the situation that was before her and make the most of it.
Grab ahold of what she had, instead of worrying what she may not down the road. Therapy had taught her to take it one day at a time. Today had been a marvelous day. Her decisions, her actions, could help it stay that way. Or not. She preferred the former.
Sara sat up abruptly.
Luis frowned. “You okay?”
“Would you rather conserve water and shower with