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Mel was a logical woman. Logical, and practical, and rational.
She did not fall in love with Frank Langdon because falling suggested an accident, something unplanned, and there had been nothing accidental about this. It had been a decision, one made based on data gathered from observation and evidence, until the conclusion was simply unavoidable.
So no, Mel did not fall. She walked straight into it.
Frank, post-rehab and post-divorce, was a quieter man. Not smaller or diminished really, but steadier and more deliberate. He had done the therapy and, more importantly, had kept on doing it. The group meetings, the sponsor calls, the early morning swims twice a week, the yoga that helped his back and, she suspected, his patience.
When he first returned, there had been a fragility to him, a brittleness around the edges, but it hadn’t lasted long. He found his footing quickly, and she had been there for it, first as a colleague, then as a friend, then as something more.
Best friends, she'd said to more than a few nosy coworkers.
And then, eventually, lovers.
That, too, had been a decision, and a practical one. They were both single, both too busy to date, both already spending most of their evenings together anyways. It had just made sense, been efficient, even. She remembered thinking that at the time, clear-eyed and certain and logical.
This, however— six months later, lying in bed beside him while he slept, rumpled and warm and vulnerable in a way he rarely allowed himself to be anywhere else—this had not been part of that original calculation.
Mel stared at the ceiling, mentally reviewing, as she often did, the final items in her ongoing list. Pros, cons, variables, risks. Whether she should wake him. Whether—
“I can feel you thinking,” he suddenly said, voice rough with sleep, eyes still closed tight.
“I can’t help it,” she replied with a sigh. “It’s nearly 10:30. I’ve been awake since nine.”
He made no verbal response. Instead, his hand slid across her stomach, settling at her hip, and he pulled her back into him, curling around her with an easy and practiced familiarity. His chest was warm against her back, the soft hair there brushing her skin.
“We’re off today,” he murmured. “Enjoy doing nothing, baby.”
She sighed again, enjoying his touch, enjoying the relaxation. She watched motes of dust spin through a sunbeam.
“I really want pancakes,” she whispered after what felt like a long enough time relaxing.
For a moment, he was still, and she wondered if he had drifted off again. Then he groaned, rolled onto his back, and threw an arm over his face dramatically.
“Pancakes!” he announced, with exaggerated alarm.
She turned her face into the pillow to hide her smile. “Pancakes,” she repeated, solemn.
“Did you know,” he continued, peeking at her, “that I happen to specialize in pancakes, ma’am?”
She rolled toward him, tucking under his arm and pressing a brief kiss to his mouth, lingering there long enough to feel him smile. “What a coincidence.”
“Almost like someone planned it,” he said, his hands framing her face, his thumb brushing lightly along her cheekbone. He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “As though fate knew to match a pancake master with the biggest pancake fan in the world.”
“Fate,” she said softly, her fingers tracing absent patterns along his stomach, over the soft lines of his ribs.
His expression shifted, something subtly more serious creeping into his gaze.
“The luckiest kind,” he said softly. “To bring you to me.”
And then it was gone, replaced by laughter as he rolled out of bed in one quick movement, already moving toward the kitchen, a contained ball of energy as always.
Mel stayed where she was, staring up at the slow turn of the ceiling fan, listening to the clatter of pans, the low sound of him humming under his breath.
She reviewed the list again, out of habit more than necessity. There were no real cons left. This had not been a fall, she assured herself. There had been no loss of control, no missteps here.
She had chosen this. Had chosen him. Chosen the life that had formed, steady and unexpected and lovely, around the two of them when they weren't paying attention.
And that, she decided with a smile, was much better than falling.