Chapter 8
TREY MEANT TO LEAVE at a respectable hour. Really, he did. But somewhere after round two, as he lay curled with Sandy in her bed, filling in the gaps of what they’d done with their lives in the past decades, he convinced himself it would be okay, as long as he left in the wee hours, so the neighbors wouldn’t see his car in the morning. Except he’d fallen asleep, wrapped tight around his wife, and somehow dawn was breaking.
“You have to go!” Sandy tried shoving him out of bed.
Trey just tugged her back and rolled her beneath him. “I can think of much better ways to start the morning.”
She gave a moan that was half frustration, half arousal before slapping him on the a*s and shoving again. “If Delia Watson next door sees your car here, it’s going to be all over town by breakfas
