Free His Ordinary Life by Linda Winfree

lowered his head.

Chapter Five
    Oh, God. She couldn’t let this happen, because if she let him kiss her, she wouldn’t want him to stop. Refusing to look at his much-desired mouth, Barbara stepped back and covered the awkwardness with a nervous laugh. Lord, what was she supposed to say, standing in the hallway at three in the morning with him about to kiss her?
    Del hooked a finger under her camisole strap, resting halfway down her arm. He lifted it back into place, his fiery gaze never leaving hers.
    “Go back to bed,” he rasped.
    She stared at him a moment then fled, her pulse an erratic thud in her ears. In her room with the door closed, she gathered the research papers and laid them on the nightstand with shaky hands. Beneath the covers with the lights off, she stared at the ceiling, aware of every movement beyond the room. In the dark, their— her —bed seemed larger and emptier than normal.
    Her body ached for him, a deep pang made worse by the memories and fantasies flickering through her mind, a montage of past kisses and what could have happened tonight if she’d leaned forward instead of stepping away. She’d always loved his kisses, the heat of his mouth, the mingled breath, the tangle of tongues.
    “Stop it.” She muttered the shaky command and rolled over, burying her head and a frustrated moan under her pillow. It didn’t block the sound of couch springs squeaking under his weight. The television clicked on, a news channel playing quietly. He was awake on the other side of that door.
    Oh, good heavens, she’d never get any sleep.
    * * *
    The alarm buzzed, a steady stream of annoyance. Barbara emerged from under the comforter to shut it off and stare at the digital numerals. 7:15.
    7:15?
    “No!” She’d slept through the alarm. Irritation making her nerves jerk, she pushed the covers away and leapt from the bed. This was all Del’s fault. If he hadn’t tried to kiss her…
    No way could she get herself and the kids together and out the door on time now. She shoved her feet into her slippers, hoping the kids had gotten up when their alarms went off. Most mornings, she had to wake Anna and Blake repeated times. Please let Lyssa have taken on that chore this morning. Please. She needed something to go right.
    When she swung open her bedroom door, the aroma of fresh coffee washed over her. Trying to remember if she’d set up the automatic coffee maker the night before, she hurried down the hall to the kids’ rooms. She stopped short, glancing between both bedrooms. All three beds were made, although Blake’s comforter tilted at a crazy angle. The bathroom door stood open, the mirror steamed over, Anna’s toothbrush lying on the vanity. The scent of kiwi-strawberry shampoo and Blake’s sport deodorant hovered in the air.
    Frowning, she walked to the kitchen and found it empty. Three empty cereal bowls stood in a neat stack in the sink. The back door burst open and Lyssa bounded in, dressed for school, dark hair flying. “Morning, Mama.” She plopped a kiss on Barbara’s cheek. “Forgot my cheerleading stuff.”
    Eyeing the heavy purple eyeliner her daughter wore, Barbara stopped her before she could leave the room. “You also forgot the no eyeliner rule.”
    Lyssa rolled her eyes. “But, Mama—”
    “No buts. Wash it off. Where is everyone? And why didn’t you wake me up?”
    “We thought you were already up, getting dressed, I guess.” Lyssa shrugged. “Daddy’s gonna drive us to school.”
    “Wonderful.” Did he have to take over everything? She gave Lyssa a gentle push toward the hall. “Get your stuff. And don’t forget the eyeliner.”
    “Morning,” Del said, and Barbara turned to find him standing at the back door. Clad in jeans and a crisp white Oxford shirt, he looked rested and relaxed as he stepped into the room and pulled the door closed behind him.
    She crossed her arms over her chest. “Lyssa says you’re driving them to school?”
    Wariness invaded his eyes.