Chapter Twelve
Hope stirred beside him in the early light, and Ben tucked her closer under his arm. Her pale hair frizzed around her head, evidence of their all-night activity. Just thinking about being inside her again and he was working on a morning woody. Making love with Hope had been so much better than Ben could have possibly imagined.
It had been more than a meeting of minds, of bodies. It had been a meeting of souls. No pretense, just communion. The early morning cacophony of the birds faded, and he saw Hope sitting on a swing below the tree house, a swing that wasn’t there, belly round with child, as a little boy with dark hair played at her feet. Ben’s hands grew cold and just as quickly as the vision had come upon him, it faded.
He pulled in a slow breath, trying to steady hi
