Chapter Seventeen
Sophie Swann was a Valkyrie. A Boudicca. A warrior queen. Mike had known this, at least partially. He thought that a lot of people fell into the trap of labelling her soft. She was kind, thoughtful, warm and funny. These were things that society tended to put into the soft category, but they weren’t. Not really. They were strengths, at least to Mike. It took a core of steel to go out into the world every day and be these things despite the never-ending grind of reality. The fact that Sophie was still soft despite what her ex had done to her was unfathomable.
That was bravery. That was strength.
So he’d already known she was tough, but seeing her in the rage room . . . that had been something else entirely. She was beautiful in her fury. Mike had never considered himself the kind of guy who would be turned on by watching a woman demolish a microwave oven with an aluminium bat, but apparently he was. He really, really was , and he needed to pour a metaphorical ice bucket on that right now. She’d been sick this morning and had an emotional bomb dropped into her lap. She may have kissed him, she might be interested in more, but none of that was happening tonight.
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 him home, 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 who wanted to 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’t want to 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.’
Mike could already see where this was going, his gut pre-emptively filling with cold dread and hot rage. ‘He didn’t.’
Sophie grimaced. ‘He did. Something wasn’t right and my doctor ran some tests, including to check for an STI. I never would have thought of that – why would I? I’d been married for ages, if not happily then at least monogamously, I thought. I was doubly lucky that it was one of the ones that could be treated with antibiotics.’
‘I deeply regret not hitting his photo with a bat.’ Mike was amazed how calm his voice sounded. Inside, it was an entirely different manner.
‘Thank you,’ Sophie said, turning so she could watch her finger as she traced it down his chest. ‘She was his assistant, you know. Which means everyone at work knew. They knew and not a single one of them told me.’
‘What did he say when you confronted him?’
‘He said maybe if I’d tried a little harder, paid more attention to him, or spent more time on my appearance, he wouldn’t have been driven into another woman’s arms. Also, he was in love and they were moving in together. He’d already talked to someone about putting the house on the market.’
Mike whistled, long and low. ‘Wow, he doesn’t do things in half-measures, does he? That’s brutal, that is. He’s also full of shit.’ He touched her chin, nudging it until she was looking at him. ‘You know he’s wrong, right? Absolutely, completely, mind-numbingly wrong.’
She gave him a faint smile. ‘Thank you.’
He clucked his tongue. ‘Oh no, none of that. You sound like you bought some of his rubbish. Let me be very clear about a few things, Sophie Swann. Everything that man said to you was a poorly constructed Jenga tower of lies to give himself an out. To keep himself blame-free. Try harder? What utter nonsense.’ He brushed a thumb over her cheekbone. ‘I may not have known you long, but I know you enough to know you put every bit of yourself into the things you do. I have no doubt that you were a good partner to that man. I have serious doubts as to whether he was a good partner to you .’
He felt the edge of his thumb grow damp, and he swiped at the tear that had crawled its way down her cheek. ‘He’s not worth even that. As to your appearance . . .’ Mike blew out a slow breath. ‘Well, I think we both know I’m horribly biased when it comes to your appearance.’
‘You are?’
He nodded slowly. ‘I am, because I happen to think you’re a beautiful woman with a hell of a swing.’ He leaned until he could brush his lips against hers. Then he did it again, because life was short, unpredictable, and kissing her made it worth it. ‘Which it turns out I’m very into.’
She hummed in response, swooping in to steal a kiss of her own.
‘You know,’ Mike said, trying to sound casual, but not quite managing due to the breathlessness of his words, ‘if you decided to murder him, I’d happily give you an alibi. I’m very good under pressure and I don’t mind morally grey areas when it comes to protecting my friends. I would have no problem lying on the stand.’
Sophie huffed a laugh. ‘You know, Edie said almost exactly the same thing.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, only with more profanity and a list of murder suggestions. She was quite graphic and oddly specific, so I guess less “alibi” and more “accomplice”. She’d never really been fond of Andrew and with the divorce . . . well, I believe she said she, “wouldn’t piss on him if he was on fire”. Which never made sense to me, because if you hate someone, you would think you’d still want to wee on them, even if it meant inadvertently saving their lives.’ She shook her head. ‘I didn’t argue with her too much when she said it, though, because she was practically spitting, she was so angry, and also drunk, and I was mostly concerned she would actually go after him in that state.’
‘I think I like Edie,’ Mike said.
Sophie screwed up her face. ‘I’m starting to wonder if I attract bloodthirsty people. First Edie’s threats, then Marisa’s threats and her decision to call Andrew the Wicker Man, with all that entails. Now you’re willing to cover my murderous tracks.’
‘I don’t normally consider myself a bloodthirsty person, but I think I’d make an exception for your ex. Death isn’t good enough for him. I cannot believe he not only did that to you but tried to place the blame at your feet.’
‘I can believe it,’ she said, her last word cracking on a yawn. ‘Sorry.’
He tucked her head back against his chest. ‘Go to sleep. Everything will keep until the morning.’ He wasn’t even sure she’d heard the last bit before she started snoring.