Chapter 4
A nagging throb in Emerson’s skull pulled her from the most delicious dream about…what? Even as she reached for it, the pieces slid away, leaving her with nothing but the hangover. This. This was why she didn’t indulge in crying jags. Or was it the wine? She’d lost count of how much she’d drunk. Surely Caleb hadn’t let her finish the whole bottle by herself. She shifted her head to press her face into the pillow, hoping to block out the light. It wasn’t morning until she said it was morning.
The pillow didn’t give. It was hard and warm and…moved.
Shock banished the last traces of sleep as she realized her pillow was a muscular chest. Her whole body was plastered against the full length of a big, tall someone who shouldn’t have fit on her sofa.
Oh dear God in heaven, she’d spe
