Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 61180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
“What do you wonder?”
I lean forward, feeling a little guilty voicing this. “I wonder what it takes to make something last—as in forever—and is that different from what it takes to fall in love. Know what I mean?”
She nods, a little solemn too. “I do know. And I think about it with Holden. I believe it takes being honest, being open, listening. And being willing to work on staying close every day, even when it’s hard.”
I marinate on that for a bit. She’s not wrong. “That’s good advice.”
She reaches for my hand, squeezes. “And as for your worries about work, you just have to take things as they come and do what you can to make your life what you want it to be.”
That sounds good, in theory. But if one game can throw you off in baseball, if one moment can end your season, how little would it take to derail a relationship?
So far, Declan and I have been on a honeymoon of sorts. But what comes next?
Ah, hell—maybe I’m a fool for worrying about what’s next when what I have in front of me is out of this world.
Later that night, as I hang the shirts in the closet, I tell myself to take each day on its own terms. I repeat it as I brush my teeth. I remind myself once again as my phone pings with the news that Declan’s plane just landed.
I’ll see him soon. But I’m bone tired, and a yawn escapes me as I write back, telling him I’ll be in bed when he walks in the door.
I get under the covers. Before I know it, I crash.
Thirty minutes later, I’m no longer thinking about taking each day as it comes.
The man I want just slid into bed next to me.
And my whole body aches, maybe more than it ever has, with the need to reconnect with him.
4
Declan
This is the best way to come home.
Knowing Grant’s here.
Knowing I’ll get to see him, feel him, be near him in a few more seconds.
My pulse surges, and I buzz with anticipation.
I close the front door behind me with a soft click. Dropping my bag in the foyer, I toss my ball cap on the entryway table, toe off my shoes, then pad quietly upstairs.
It’s past one in the morning, thanks to a delayed flight. The house is quiet, full of that welcoming stillness that night and sleep bring to a home. It’s dark, save for the gentle glow of the moonlight streaming in through the window at the top of the stairs, and I leave the lights off since I don’t want to wake Grant. Sometimes he rouses anyway, murmuring my name in that gravelly voice of his. But there is no sound from our bedroom.
When I go in, my heart both beats faster and settles down. It always settles when I see him. He is my calm.
After fourteen long days away, he’s what I want to return to.
Sound asleep and impossibly sexy, he lies flat on his stomach, the sheet resting at the top of his ass, giving me a fantastic view of his muscular back, his powerful shoulders, his huge biceps.
His hands are splayed above his head, and his face rests on the pillow. His breath rises and falls in the undulating rhythm of sleep.
A rumble of admiration escapes my lips as I sweep my gaze over my man. I could stare at him like this, my mouth watering, but I’d rather curl up against him, stat. I head to the bathroom and get ready for bed without any fuss, happy to see Grant’s still sound asleep when I lift the edge of the covers and slide into bed.
This is the best thing ever. Him.
Just him.
To be able to come home to Grant Blackwood makes me set aside all my apprehensions about dancing. Once I see him, I only want to give him everything he deserves.
If he wants dancing, I’ll do it.
I can’t resist pressing a soft kiss to the back of his neck.
I inhale deeply, breathing in that scent I’ve missed terribly for the last two weeks. He smells like sex and love and home and happiness.
He stirs, a soft murmur falling from his lips.
“Go back to sleep, babe,” I whisper.
Grant moans softly, shifting to his side, reaching an arm behind him to hunt for my hand and pull it around his waist. As he wraps my palm around his hard cock, I groan, the sound of my desire filling the quiet night air.
“Welcome back,” he whispers.
“Best greeting ever,” I say, giving him a nice, firm stroke.
He turns so he’s on his back, his thick cock jutting straight up. “I’m not going back to sleep now.”
“Well, hello to me,” I say, with an appreciative whistle as I check out his erection.
“That’s just from you kissing my neck.”