I hadn’t realized that I looked so sad on the outside, and that makes me just a little bit more self-conscious.
“To be honest, I just don’t want to stay away anymore.” My eyes find his again and he offers me a half grin. “I would very much enjoy getting to know you better, Lauren. If that’s okay with you?”
I bite my lip and watch his finger glide around the rim of his glass.
“Lauren,” he whispers.
“I’d like that,” I reply softly.
He watches me lazily, sipping his drink, his temper calming. Finally, he sets his wine aside and takes my hand in his once again.
“You hold my hand a lot.”
“You have beautiful hands. Does it bother you?”
“No, it doesn’t bother me.”
“Lo?” he whispers.
“Yeah?”
“I want to kiss you so bad it hurts.”
I gasp and watch him with wide eyes as he reaches out and tucks my hair behind my ear, then gently runs his finger down my cheek. The air between us is full of anticipation.
“What’s stopping you?”
I bite my lip, waiting for his response. He pulls my lip free with his thumb and brushes it along the tender flesh. Finally, he leans in, moving exquisitely slowly. He cups my cheek in his hand and lowers his face to mine. His lips nibble at the side of my mouth, making my eyes flutter closed as my hand glides tentatively up his arm, over his shoulder, and into his thick, black hair.
He’s tender, gentle, as his lips sweep over my own to the other corner to tease and tempt some more.
I sigh as he brushes his nose over the tip of my own, then he sinks into me, his lips moving over me in the sweetest dance I’ve ever experienced. His tongue brushes over my lips, then slips inside my mouth, not to plunder but to simply tease and slide across my own.
All too soon, he backs away. I open my eyes to find his gray ones on fire. We’re both breathing hard, and in this moment, I want nothing more than for him to strip me bare and take me right here on the couch.
But instead, he pulls me into his arms and holds me close, kissing my hair. “You taste better than I imagined.” His hand caresses my back as he supports me against him, and we sit here, watching the fire.
“So do you,” I reply softly.
His hand stills for a moment, then resumes its journey across my back.
“You’re not staying the night,” I inform him sternly.
“No, but I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”
I lean back to look at him, pulling my fingertips down his cheek. “You don’t have to do that.”
He pulls my fingers to his lips and kisses each one in turn. “It’s my pleasure, sweetheart.”
He tucks me under his chin, and we sit in silence. I don’t want to fall asleep. I want to stay here in his arms, fully aware of him holding me, for as long as possible.
I’m not convinced this isn’t a dream brought on by a caffeine crash and too much work.
Ty continues to caress my back and plant small kisses on my head until the warmth of the fire and wine lull me into a deep sleep.
I am not a morning person. Early-morning swim training during high school and college just about killed me. I’m a firm believer that nothing should ever happen before 9:00 a.m..
Ever.
I moan as I turn onto my back and realize that I’m on the couch, covered in the brown blanket from my office. I grin, brush my hair off my face, and stare sleepily at the ceiling, remembering my evening with Ty.
It was . . . surprising.
I can’t believe I told him about the books. I haven’t told anyone I know in fear of its getting back to Jack, giving him a whole new set of reasons to freak out and come after me for more money. Only my agent, publisher, and Cary know about my success as an author.
I can’t explain why it was so easy to confide in Ty, except that I was still deep in a writing fog and he exudes safety. Confidence.
I naturally trust him, and that alone is enough to put me on edge because trust isn’t something I’ve ever given easily.
I sit up and toss the blanket aside, finding a note on the nearby ottoman.
Lo,
I hope you slept well. Thank you for letting me stay. Next time, you’ll be waking up in my arms rather than to a damn note.
Ty
I fold the note with a grin and then make my way upstairs to pull on some jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, along with a green scarf to ward off the early-fall chill. If I’m going to be productive today at all, and I need to be with a deadline looming in just three weeks, I will need coffee.
The kind with chocolate and sugar, all in a really, really tall cup.
A smile hovers on my lips as I drive to the café in the heart of downtown. Drips & Sips is an early-morning hot spot in Cunningham Falls. Businesspeople stop in for pastries and drinks on their way to work, and others hold meetings or just pop in to sit and read the newspaper while they enjoy their coffee.