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air.
    “Nice moves, did you learn those at basketball camp?”
    He laughed and kissed my neck. “You’re beautiful.”
    “So are you.”
    “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
    I smiled.
    “You sure?”
    “I’m sure. And Jake?”
    “Yeah?”
    “You might want to move my suitcase from the guest bedroom.”
    He laughed and kissed my neck again, then slowly moved one hand to the button of my jeans.

     
    When I woke up the next morning, for about three seconds I forgot where I was. I opened my eyes and studied the unfamiliar ceiling.
    Why am I on the wrong side of the bed?
    Then I remembered.
    I’m in Atlanta.
    With Jake.
    I turned my head to the right. He was lying on his back beside me, his bare chest gently rising and falling with each breath.
    I sighed and smiled.
    Even asleep, he’s gorgeous. And he doesn’t even snore.
    I wondered how long I could stare at him without crossing the line between cute and creepy. After a few minutes I figured I was getting close, so I decided to get up and make coffee. I carefully slipped out of bed and tiptoed toward the guestroom. When I reached the door I glanced back at him for a moment, then set off to find my suitcase—and the pajamas I hadn’t yet worn.
    Jake’s kitchen was airy and bright, with stainless steel appliances that looked brand new. I found the coffee in the freezer, then opened the cabinets as quietly as I could in search of the filters. As I filled the pot with water, I glanced out the window to the backyard. Gold and red leaves swirled in the air around a big oak tree. It looked cold outside.
    Waiting for the coffee to brew, I wandered into the living room and plopped down on the couch, surprised that I was awake so early given the time difference. Adrenaline , I thought as I sorted through a basket full of magazines. I found the latest issue of Newsweek and was about to open it when the picture frames on the mantel caught my eye. I put down the magazine and stood up.
    The photos included one of Jake’s parents, one of his young nieces, and one of him and his siblings. There was also one of Jake giving a toast at what looked like his brother’s wedding, as well as one of Jake on the basketball court in a Duke uniform. I picked that one up and smiled at it. So handsome, even back then .
    At the end of the mantel was a group shot that looked like it had been taken fairly recently, in Hawaii or some other tropical paradise. It was the whole McIntyre clan, all sun-kissed and radiant.
    “What a good-looking family,” I said under my breath.
    Then I noticed something, and I got a sick feeling in my stomach.
    A woman standing next to Jake had her hand on his arm. And from the way she was touching him, I was pretty sure she wasn’t his sister. Or his sister-in-law. Or his cousin. Or anyone else he wouldn’t kiss.
    I leaned closer and wondered who she was. She was tall and brunette and pretty. Together they looked like the prom king and queen.
    I bit my lip and remembered seeing Jake with a date at my former boss’s wedding nearly a year earlier. I hadn’t gotten a close look at her, but she was tall and brunette and, at least from a distance, pretty. Very pretty.
    Was this the same girl? Why was she in a framed picture on his mantel? Did that mean she was still…in the picture?
    “Hey you, I wondered where you went.” The sound of Jake’s voice made me jump.
    I turned around. He was standing outside his bedroom door wearing a pair of pajama pants and no shirt, his hair a bit disheveled.
    “I didn’t want to wake you, so I made coffee.” I pointed to the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind.” I also hoped the stress in my voice wasn’t too obvious, but there was no way around the fact that I was anxious.
    He walked toward me. “Did you make it strong? I need you on your toes today.”
    I admired the definition in his chest and abdomen and thought about the night we’d just spent together. “You do?”
    “I do.”
    “And why is