At first she had no clue where she was. Jill rolled to find him behind her, almost spooning her but not quite, and the thrill of feeling him there was too big to even contemplate. So she didn’t. Jill sat up and eyed the room. The TV had been clicked off and the lights were off too. He’d left the bathroom light on and the door cracked, most likely for her, so she’d be able to get her bearings. Cole reached for her, despite clearly being deep in sleep, and when he found her thigh under the covers, he rested his hand there. Jill smiled at him. He really was a good man. He’d lost so much. He was doing this to prove something to himself about himself. She was simply doing this as a big grandiose effort to lick her wounds and save face. Tom had done the dirty job of ripping her off. He had made them and her restaurant look bad. And it occurred to her that she was continually punishing herself for her sous chef’s bad deeds. Her regulars had returned to her immediately after the news story broke regarding the crime that had been done to her – for if you got down to nuts and bolts, that was what it was.
