Page 52 of Clear Shot

“I’ll remember that.” We pad into the bathroom and watch her pin up her light brown hair so it doesn’t get wet.

We take the world’s fastest shower—three minutes, tops—and then dry off together.

“I don’t think we should sleep naked,” she says, pulling on her T-shirt. “Just in case something happens that we have to get up quickly.

“Yeah.” I grab a clean pair of boxers and two minutes later we’re finally back in bed.

“I feel like we need to talk about this,” she says in a sleepy voice. “But I don’t want to. Not tonight.”

“Not tonight,” I agree with her, but only because I’m too tired to think about what there is to talk about.

We’re married.

We had sex.

It was really fucking good.

I’m hoping we have a lot more.

Everything else is just background noise.

When I wake up again,Hana’s on her stomach, long hair sprawled across her back, arms gripping the pillow as she sleeps.

She’s beautiful.

So much so I can’t take my eyes off of her for a minute or two.

It’s hard to believe this smart, gorgeous, spectacular woman wants to be with me. She knows I’m a bit of a fuck-up when it comes to women and relationships, with a divorce under my belt and no interest in biological children, but she’s still here. She wouldn’t leave my side in this damn storm and then she took our marriage of convenience and made it real.

Sex isn’t all there is to marriage, of course, but in our case, it was basically the only thing left because we already had most of the other components: Friendship, companionship, similar values when it comes to life in general, and a solid foundation of mutual friends and family. What the hell else is there?

Love, dumbass.

The thought hits me hard, and I close my eyes, trying to shake off the sudden feeling of discomfiture.

I stopped believing in love a long time ago.

And I certainly never made any promises like that to Hana.

Christ, I need to get out of bed and stop thinking with my little head instead of my big one.

We had sex.

It was good.

Big deal.

I’ve had dozens of one-night stands that were just as good.

Right?

Dammit.

I slide out of bed quietly so as not to wake her and take a minute in the bathroom to take care of business. I pull on shorts and a T-shirt and then slip out of the room.

It’s only nine thirty but I hear Remy’s voice somewhere in the house and follow the sound until I find him.

“Good morning.” He looks up as he puts his phone down. “Just talking to my wife. We lost power about ten minutes ago so I don’t know when I’ll talk to her again if cell towers go out.”