14
She woke up once to the sound of Tigger crying. Her eyelids felt as if they had weights tied to them, and by the time she got them open, Lyle was feeding the baby from a bottle. She dropped back to sleep like a stone dropped into a well.
In the middle of the night, she woke again, and found Lyle lying on his back on the floor, arms folded under his head. She nudged him awake and tugged at his arm. “Come on up here,” she said softly.
Silently, he checked on Tigger, then climbed into her bed and stretched his long body next to hers.
“You sleep in your clothes?” she whispered.
“Not usually.”
“Then take them off.”
He didn’t argue, just unzipped his pants and pushed them down his legs. He pulled off his sweater and tossed it aside as if it wasn’t made of the finest cashmere and probab
