Caleb was sound asleep beside her, lying on his stomach with one strong arm flung over her belly. Her smile widened. God, he was breathtaking. His stubble-covered cheek rested against the pillow, his dark hair messy and falling onto his proud forehead. And his face lost all of its hard edges in slumber. He looked peaceful, younger. Trying not to wake him, she moved his arm and slid out of bed. Then she walked into the washroom, heading for the small shower stall. A jolt of pain hit her big toe. “Shoot,” she muttered, noticing that one of the tiles was loose. Good thing she was planning on retiling after she finished painting. She opened the glass door of the shower stall, and as she turned the faucet and adjusted the temperature, she realized she was actually pretty sore. A slight ache between her legs, but one she was willing to overlook because last night had been totally worth it. She stepped into the shower and dunked her head under the hot spray, then turned to let the water slide down her body.
