The rumble of a rusty cargo hauler broke through his dreams and stirred him to consciousness. Something felt wrong — precarious — and Dayne’s eyes snapped  open when he realized he was about to slip off the edge of the mattress. Jen was sprawled diagonally across the bed, her mouth hanging open with her snoring. The room smelled of morning breath and the stale musk of last night’s lovemaking. Steadying himself on the edge of the bed, he reached out to her and paused to smile at the ring that now graced his finger. Continue reading →