Page 58 of The Suitcase Swap

Which was why Mike hesitated before crossing the threshold into her flat. Maybe he should leave it here? Give her a kiss, tell her to call him in the morning, and they’d go from there. He discarded that idea almost instantly. Sophie needed someone here with her – that was obvious. If she sent himhome, fine; but otherwise, he would stay even if he needed to sleep on her tiny sofa. He wasn’t sure he could give her much, but he could give her this. He could be here on a terrible day.

Not that he could put his choice entirely on her and his own sense of altruism. No, Mike also needed to be there for her tonight for his own sake. He wouldn’t sleep well in his flat, worried that she was upset or that her fever had come back. It would be one thing if Tom and Marisa were able to be there for her, but they had their own things going on. Mike simply didn’t. All he had was work. His children were an ocean away and, frankly, doing much better than he was. They didn’t really need him, at least not right now.

He was the one who could be here for Sophie at this moment. He was the one whowantedto be here. If anyone in the city of New York was going to hold Sophie Swann, it was going to be him, damn it.

He stepped into her flat, turning to lock the door as she flipped on lights.

‘I can stay.’ He hadn’t meant to blurt the words, but now that they were out, he didn’t have the heart to take them back. ‘I mean, I’d like to stay.’

Sophie turned, her expression quizzical.

Nerves got the better of him and as Mike’s mouth opened, all manner of nonsense babbled out. ‘I mean, if that’s what you’d like. Obviously, I can leave if you don’t. It’s up to you. I can sleep on the couch. Or not.’ He rubbed a hand over his face. ‘What I mean is, you’ve had a shit day and I didn’t think you’d want to be alone, but also I wanted to be here, but nothing has to happen, I mean you had a fever last night and—’

‘Mike.’ Sophie dropped his name gently, cutting off the flow of words.

‘Yes?’

‘I’d like you to stay,’ Sophie said.

‘Oh, thank god,’ Mike said. ‘I meant it about the couch, though. Whatever you need. I—’

She held up a hand, palm out, an amused smile on her face. ‘You’ve already slept in my bed. It would be a bit silly to get weird about it now.’ She stepped over to him, slipped her arms around his neck and planted a lingering kiss on his lips.

He chased after it automatically, pulling her close, feeling her soft body against his while he tasted her. He groaned from the simple pleasure of it. Sophie Swann was a joy to hold.

When she pulled back from the kiss, Mike felt dazed, his body practically humming. He brushed her hair away from her face with his fingertips, enjoying the way the strands slid against his skin. ‘You could get weird about it if you want to, you know.’

She laughed. ‘I know, but honestly, I’m exhausted. Pulling on my pyjamas and curling up with you sounds like about all I can handle right now. Is that okay?’

It sounded like pure, unadulterated bliss, if he was honest with himself. ‘Yeah, it’s okay.’ He brushed her hair back again, just because he could.

She studied him for a long moment. ‘Are you going to be okay? The night by the carousel . . .’ Her words drifted off, turning them into a question.

The answer should have been simple, but that snarl of feelings was still thrashing around in his chest and he wasn’t entirely sure he could handle it. All he did know was that he couldn’t walk away right now. Didn’twantto walk away right now. There seemed to be an inevitability about Sophie Swann that he couldn’t entirely fight. ‘Tonight is okay,’ he finally said.

She accepted this with little in the way of reaction beyond a slight tilt of her head. ‘And tomorrow?’

‘How about we deal with tomorrow, tomorrow?’

‘Fair enough,’ she said, before leading him into the bedroom.

Sophie put on clean pyjamas – a worn camisole top and shorts, and while Mike found them intriguing, he could also tell they were comfort pyjamas for her. He made do with his boxer briefs, and in no time at all, his head was on the pillow, the sheets cool against his skin. After Sophie had responded to a text from Tom, she set her phone down and curled up against Mike, easing her body against his. It took a little adjusting, and a bit of giggling – not all on her part because she’d found one of his ticklish spots by accident – but they ended up with Sophie’s head on his chest, one of her legs thrown over his, and her hand flat on his belly. It was an intimate position for them considering she hadn’t seen him naked yet, but it didn’t feel that way. It felt . . . right.

Mike had one hand buried in her hair, the other tracing patterns on her back. Her skin was soft and her hair smelled like peaches and honey, and he thought that if he were a cat, he might be purring right now, he was that content.

Sophie sighed, settling deeper into his hold. ‘Did I remember to thank you for tonight? If not, thank you. It was exactly what I needed. I think it was what Tom and Marisa needed, too.’

‘You’re welcome.’ He pressed his lips to the top of her head and smiled. ‘Want to talk about it at all?’

‘No,’ Sophie said quickly. She sighed again. ‘And yes, but I don’t want to be one of those people that talk non-stop about their divorce.’

‘You’re not,’ Mike said, settling his head back against his pillow. ‘But if you were, that would be okay. Divorce is hard.’

‘There’s just such an indignity to it.’ She moved so that her chin rested on his chest so she could see him. ‘Do you know how I found out that I was getting a divorce?’

Mike prepared himself. He already knew he wasn’t going to like it. ‘How bad was it?’

‘I went in for a check-up at the GP.’

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