“Hey,” I murmur, watching her every movement as she gets closer. Colt gives her a soft squeeze then moves to join Cash and Rae to help clean up.
“How was working with Colt today?” she asks on a whisper.
“About what you’d expect.”
She huffs a soft laugh, then loops her arm through mine like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Will you take me home? We’re done here, and I need a good shower.”
I nod. “Yeah, let’s go home, baby.”
—
A few minutes later, we step inside our house. The one we’ve been quietly renovating like it’s some casual project, even though we both know better. We never said it out loud, never defined who owns what, but we both built this place and we’re designing it to be a home that we’ll live in permanently. We chose the tiles, the paint colors and the mailbox.
And maybe that’s why neither of us has dared to bring it up. Because walking away wouldn’t just mean giving up the property. It would mean giving up on each other and we don’t want that.
I’m holding back—white-knuckling it, really. Doing everything in my power not to reach for her. Not to touch her the way I want to. The way I ache to.
“You want me to make us some lunch?” I ask, already turning toward the kitchen, hoping if I keep my hands busy, I won’t use them to ruin everything, but she stops me before I can move. Herfingers find my arms, and she turns me gently until I’m facing her. Blue eyes full of heat and desire gaze up at me, her soft pink lips curve at the edges in a smile. And then, I can’t help it. I lose control.
My hands find her hips, and I pull her in, locking her against me like I’ve been starving for her touch. Just holding. Just breathing her in. Letting myself feel the shape of her again, the solid warmth of her in my arms.
And she doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t stiffen or back away.
She melts into me like this is exactly where she belongs.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur into her hair, my voice rough. “Maybe I shouldn’t have done that, but I’ve been dying to hold you all damn day.” I let out a groan. “I was trying to be good. To be patient and not take matters into my own hands.”
My head dips, my nose brushing against her neck, inhaling her. She smells like sunshine and earth, like something sweet and familiar, like everything I want.
“You smell so fucking good,” I tell her, rolling my face against her skin, wanting her—aching for her—but terrified to push too far.
She lets out a breathy laugh, light but disbelieving. “No, I don’t. I’ve been with the chicks all day.”
I grip her chin, tilting her face up until her big, blue eyes are locked on mine. Her lips part on a soft gasp, her gaze flickering with surprise before morphing into need.
“Don’t tell me what smells good to me,” I say, my voice rough.
And then she surprises me.
She rises onto her toes, loops her arms around my neck, and kisses me hard.
And all I can do is hold on.
Chapter 43: Hayes
Her mouth is soft and fierce against mine, like she’s not sure what this is, only that she needs it. She slips her tongue into my mouth roughly, and I meet her there, sucking on the tip, earning a soft moan from her lips. And God, I give in. I kiss her like a man who’s been on fire for weeks, burning alive and finally getting water. Finally getting the chance for something more with her.?
I grip the backs of her thighs and lift her in one smooth motion, her legs wrapping around my waist without hesitation. She gasps into my mouth, then laughs softly, breathlessly, like she’s the happiest she’s been in years.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur against her lips. “Always.”
Without breaking the kiss, I carry her up the stairs, each step slow and steady, like I’m memorizing the feel of her again—her weight, her warmth, her trust that she’s clearly offering up tome. I don’t deserve any of it, and she doesn’t say a word. Just holds me tighter around my neck until I reach my bedroom.
I kick the door closed behind me and lower her gently onto the edge of the bed. Her eyes search mine as I pull back to look at her, both of us breathing hard, hovering in the thick space between history and hope for a future.
“I meant what I said,” I whisper, brushing her long hair back from her face. “I’m not rushing you. I’ll go as slow as you want. But if you’re not sure about whether this is what you want, just tell me now.”
Regan’s voice is soft, but certain. “It is.”
