Immediately, he rolled toward the other side of his bed, fearful that Maddy had run out on him before he had the chance to tell her so many of the things he wanted to reveal. But she slept peacefully beside him on her stomach, her head turned toward his, one hand loosely clutching his pillow. He smiled. Her ivory skin was touched with pink in places, and her dark hair was wonderfully mussed, both conditions a result of their physical exploits of the night before. Her bare back rising and falling with the respiration of deep slumber told him she was nowhere near waking. Carver wanted to wake her. He even went so far as to reach out to her, ready to trace the delicate line of her spine to where the sheet and blanket dipped dangerously low over her heart-shaped fanny. Then he remembered the jarring thunder of his front door moments ago. If he and Maddy were in the bedroom, he reasoned, only one other person could have generated the noise without being guilty of breaking and entering. Quickly, he scrambled out of bed and rifled through his dresser for a pair of jeans and a denim work shirt.
