Mad About You

ride?"
    "Well... all right. "
    Relieved, Bailey settled into the sofa cushions. Wincing, he massaged a knot of tension between his neck and shoulder. He was a bundle of tense, hormone-laced muscles, a walking wad of pent-up frustration and longing. He glanced over at her profile. A man shackled within view of the finish line.
    His gaze traveled down to where her buttoned blouse gapped open. Wetting his lips, he angled for a better look. The lacy top of a pink bra beckoned to him, and he itched to touch it, his fingers curling against his palm. Bailey put his head back and closed his eyes, cursing silently. He wouldn't be getting rid of the apron anytime soon.
    His next conscious moment was Chad shaking him awake. "Bailey," he whispered, "I'm going to bed."
    "Huh?" Bailey sat up, rubbing his eyes.
    "It's late and I'm going to bed. You both fell asleep."
    He looked over and saw Ginny was sleeping on the other two-thirds of the couch, her head on the armrest, her arms crossed and her feet tucked up to her rear end, compactly nestled into the space. "What time is it?"
    "Around midnight."
    Bailey yawned. "Okay, you're going out with Ginny's folks tomorrow night, aren't you?"
    "Yeah."
    "Then I'll see you Saturday morning."
    "Won't you be here in the morning?" Chad asked.
    Bailey took in Ginny's sleeping form, all closed up and inaccessible, and the firm set of her chin, even in her sleep. He frowned. "Don't count on it."
    "Okay, see you Saturday."
    Chad loped out of the room and Bailey listened as he climbed the stairs, then closed his bedroom door. Yawning widely, he rubbed his knuckles over his face, then stood up for an all-body stretch. Reluctantly, he leaned over to shake Ginny awake, then changed his mind in a split second.
    The couch felt too good, and Ginny looked too good. He removed his boots and belt, then stripped off his shirt. He had no intention of making love to Ginny while she slept, but he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to snuggle with her all night. He lowered himself behind her onto the couch, easing in little by little, nudging her body forward. She moaned and murmured incoherently, but eventually lay spooned in his embrace.
    He punched down the pillow lightly, but skipped his customary habit of turning over to find the sweet spot. He reached up and carefully unclasped her hair, then buried his nose in its silkiness and inhaled her scent. Pulling her as close to him as he dared, he lay his hand on her stomach and sighed into her ear. She wriggled against him, and he felt his love for her swell in his heart.
    Ginny was the sweet spot.

    * * *

    Virginia blinked and winced. Her neck hurt, her back hurt, her—
    She jolted wide awake, realizing where she slept and who was snoring softly in her ear. She remembered lying down, thinking she'd doze until Chad's television show ended. And she distinctly remembered not entwining her body with Bailey's before lying down. His legs were wrapped around hers, and his bare, muscled arm lay across her waist. She swallowed. Oh, God, was he naked?
    She glanced down, glad to see in the breaking morning light that she was still fully clothed, and that he at least was wearing jeans. She moved gingerly, but at the first sign of withdrawing from him, he responded by tightening his grip on her.
    Struggling harder, she hissed, "Bailey, wake up. It's morning."
    "Mmmmph," he murmured in her ear, sending goose bumps down her arms.
    "Wake up—you have to go to work."
    "No," he whispered sleepily. "I have to stay right here."
    "Let me up!"
    "Stay with me," he urged, pulling her closer and rubbing his arousal against her behind.
    Longing knifed through her, and she yielded to her impulse, rolling her neck and arching her back, pressing into him. He groaned into her hair, then reached around to cup her breast through her thin shirt. Desire bolted through her, and she reached behind her to massage the smooth skin of his back.
    "Ginny," he whispered huskily, "you make me crazy with wanting you." He devoured her neck, sending miniature convulsions through her body. Her nipple hardened beneath his hand, and he ground his hips against her.
    Reality seeped into the fog of her rapture, and she stiffened slightly. "Bailey," she whispered hoarsely, "Chad could walk down those stairs any minute."
    Bailey sighed, clearly frustrated. "And what would he see? His mother and father lying together on the couch." He resumed his ministrations on her neck.
    She laid her head back, easing into