“Fair enough.” I plant a kiss on her cheek. “Come on, let's get you to bed.”
“Just me?”
“Not just you.”
CHAPTER 23
Toni
Warm sun pouringin from the big window beside the bed and the gentle sound of Cillian’s light snores beside me coax me awake earlier than usual.
I crack my eyes open, sit up slowly, and look over at him.
Cillian lies on his back, one arm under his head, that mess of dark brown and silver hair splayed around him. He looks peaceful, his pink lips slightly parted, the sunlight emphasizing the freckles across the bridge of his nose.
Even though we’ve spent quite a few mornings together at this point, I’ve never seen him like this. He always managed to be up before me, blaming his years in the military for breaking him of the habit of sleeping in.
I burn the image into my mind. Not wanting to forget a single line or strand of hair. The soldier in repose.
How long is it acceptable to stare at someone asleep before you enter into Edward Cullen levels of creep? I decide I'm getting too close for comfort and pull my eyes away. Determined not to interrupt his rest, I try to slide from the bed.
Unfortunately, this mattress isn't his plush dream back inCharlestown, and it gives a slight creak. I grimace as a warm hand wraps around my wrist before I can get up.
He still looks peaceful, eyes heavy with sleep, lips soft and welcoming in a gentle smile.
If I've ever seen something—someone—so beautiful, I can't remember it.
“Where you goin'?” his voice thick and drowsy.
Rather than attempt a response, I lean into him, kissing first his strong brow, then the tip of his nose, and finally those lips. He hums with satisfaction, pulling me in closer and deepening the kiss.
We stay like that for a while, kisses languid and unhurried. When we finally part, I feel drunk on it. On him.
“Good morning,” I say.
“Good morning.” He pushes my hair from my face, cradling my cheek in his hand. I lean into his touch for a moment before planting a kiss on his palm.
“Since I’m never up before you, I was going to make you your tea, but...”
His smile broadens. “I'm a light sleeper, doll. But you can still make me tea even though I’m awake.”
“That does mean you have to let me get out of bed.”
“Hmm...” Cillian pulls me in for one more kiss and releases me.
The cold seeped into the cabin overnight, leaving things just a bit too chilly to roam in my usual sleepwear. I change into leggings and a sweater before heading into the kitchen to start tea for Cillian and coffee for those of us with better taste.
Cillian isn’t far behind. He steps into the open main room of the cabin in grey sweats and a black hoodie, looking far better than anyone who just woke up has a right to.
“What is this?” he asks, lifting up a large flat rectangular package wrapped in butcher paper.
“No idea,” I say, turning back to the task of beverageassembly and trying to keep the nervous flutter from my voice. Lucy must’ve snuck it in here last night.
“Why don’t I buy that?”
The kettle clicks, and I pour water over his tea before answering. “Sounds like trust issues to me.” I set his mug on the metal workbench, turned-kitchen-island. “Your leaf juice is soaking.”
“Toni,” he says, dragging my name out like an accusation.
