CHAPTER 287

Dishes washed, counters cleaned, he had nothing to do but wait. He’d gotten used to his own company in the evenings in recent months. Didn’t mean he liked it.

After turning the burner to simmer, Quinn snuck upstairs and stood in the doorway to their bedroom.

The same faded wedding ring quilt adorned the brass bed. The usual explosion of pillows were piled at the head and the extra wool blanket dangled off the foot.

The room smelled the same, Libby’s cherry-almond hand lotion and a hint of wood from the cedar-lined closet. If Quinn peeled back the bedcovers, he’d catch a whiff of Libby’s apple shampoo and the underlying musky-sweet fragrance of just Libby.

He stared mindlessly, trying to remember the last time he and Libby had made love in that bed. In the months prior to their separation, they may as well have been sleeping in separate rooms.

A memory came to him, leaving him as breathless and embarrassed as he’d been at the time. Missing his wife, feeling adrift and lonely, Quinn had