He stirred, grumbling.
“Move a little,” I murmured, trying not to wake him fully. Heck, I didn’t want to wake either. I just wanted to get more comfortable and drop right back into that same, deep sleep.
I stretched out, nudging him and rearranging blankets as I went. Then,ah. I found exactly the right position and drifted back into sleep. No dreams. No nightmares. Nothing. Just the profound, comforting nothingness I desperately needed.
At some point, I grew vaguely aware of Roux nudging and rearranging, much as I’d done. But I fell asleep without thinking about what we were doing. It was only hours later, when the first hint of dawn colored the windows, that my brain switched back on.
And, oh. No wonder I’d been so comfy. We were both stretched out on the couch, nestled up against each other under a heap of shawls and throws that crisscrossed our bodies.
My eyes drifted from Roux’s chest to his face. There, my breath caught, because he’d opened his eyes too. Gorgeous, multifaceted eyes that shone like orange-tinted diamonds.
I froze. My cheeks heated in a blush, and my mind started working out how to ease away as gracefully as possible.
But this was Roux, dammit. The guy who never stopped me from setting off on an ill-founded venture but always stuck around to make sure I was safe. A man who’d joined me in the candlelight of the chapel and seen me through a miserable night. The man who didn’t respect me any less, even after I’d sobbed all over his shirt and dragged him into several tricky situations.
Instead of wiggling away, I angled my chin up. He tilted his head down at exactly the same time, and our lips grazed.
I gulped, gazing into those kaleidoscope eyes. They spun and blazed, indicating a battle within.
And oh, did I want to charge out onto that battlefield and make bold demands. But I’d made terrible decisions at exactly this juncture in a half dozen doomed relationships.
I’d made terrible decisions about lots of things.
I spent a moment absorbing that truth. I had lots to be proud of, but I had my weak points too. And, as my mother always said, if you wanted to own your successes, you also had to own your failures and learn from them.
So, there I lay, owning the pain and regret. Learning. Hoping.
Roux, on the other hand, was the reliable one. The one who considered pros, cons, and the consequences of his actions. Maybe I would be wise to entrust him with this decision. Maybe even trust fate.
My heart pounded. My soul wailed, fearing he would roll away and end this.
But he didn’t. His eyes blazed even brighter, and he dipped in for a kiss — a deep, full-contact one. He ran his hand over my back, pressing my torso against his.
Decision made. And the warm feels all over my body promised it was a good one.
Our lips danced. Our hands roamed. Our bodies squeezed together. Kind of a balancing act, given the narrowness of the couch, but hell. The man was a tiger shifter. If anyone could keep their balance, it would be him.
I ran my fingers through his hair and rubbed my cheek against his stubble. I rubbed other parts too, shoving away the tangle of blankets and shawls that dared limit my movement. And all that time, we kissed.
Roux’s hand settled comfortably at my waist for a while, then started drifting upward. I arched, aching for more.
Then steps sounded in the hallway, and we froze.
Roux’s lips stayed on mine, and his arms closed around me possessively. But his eyes cut away at a sharp angle, in the direction of the hallway.
Please don’t let this end,I prayed.Not before we truly get started.
It was like standing on a diving board — the high one — only to have someone drain the pool before you had a chance to leap.
And boy, was I itching to leap.
But there came Bene, sauntering down the hallway. I could hear him humming “The Bare Necessities” fromThe Jungle Book— a dead giveaway, along with the noisy yawn.
Roux tensed. I pressed my face against his chest, braced myself for the teasing that was sure to ensue. But Bene turned down the main stairs, heading for the kitchen. Gradually, the hum and footsteps faded, and we both slumped. Whew.
I was sure Roux would disengage, as a military man might put it. But he didn’t. If anything, he held me closer, tucking his chin over my head and rocking ever so slightly.
Clearly, I wasn’t the only one who didn’t want this moment to end.