Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
He’d fetched a towel, and newly clean, we were cuddled again with a plate of brownies between us, the perfect after-sex food.
“Yeah.” What I wanted to say was that I now understood why people called sex making love. Because we certainly had made something together. Something special, exactly how I’d wanted. And getting everything I’d hoped for was terrifying, especially in a season where nothing else had gone my way. But what came out was, “It was nice. Really nice.”
“Just okay?” he teased, light fingertips dancing up my ribs.
“Stupendous. Wonderful. Amazing. You’re the one with the big vocabulary.” Chuckling, I wagged a finger at him.
“Your brownies are amazing.” He held up a second piece, toasting me.
“Thanks.” I grinned and claimed one more for myself. “Is it wrong that I’m really excited to go to bed?”
“Oh?” He waggled his eyebrows at me. “Round two?”
“I mean, other than the obvious.” My cheeks heated. Maybe this was too sappy, even for him. “We get to spend the whole night together. Feels like a gift.”
“It is.” Eyes shining, Jonas pulled me in for a hug. Apparently, I hadn’t said the wrong thing at all. “You are.”
I inhaled deeply, letting his embrace feed me every bit as much as the brownies. I wanted this weekend to last, wanted it to snow and snow so we could be happily trapped together forever.
Chapter Twenty-One
Jonas
On Valentine’s Eve, I slept better than I had in years until I woke up in Declan’s bed to Declan’s hand landing on my face.
“Hey, hey.” I moved out of thrashing range and stroked his arm and sides. “It’s okay.”
“Oh no, did I wake you?” He woke up enough to scrub at his face, then nuzzled right back into my chest. “You’re warm.”
His love of cuddling and touch was one of my favorite things, and I happily welcomed him back into my embrace.
“You were having a bad dream.” I stroked his back as he snuggled in against me.
“Yeah.” His voice was muffled by my chest, but he didn’t seem to mind, rubbing his face on me as though he liked the ticklish sensation.
“Want to talk about it?”
“I don’t remember much of it.” His cagey tone said he remembered enough, but then he yanked my hands closer, arching into my touch. “Your hands are making me feel plenty better already.”
“Like this?” I rubbed circles and he made happy little noises, and all was right in my world. I wanted to know what the dream had been about, but I didn’t want to burst this cuddly bubble of perfection.
“Uh-huh.” He wiggled against me, already mostly hard again. The joys of being in his twenties. “It’s the middle of the night, and neither of us has to sneak back to our own beds.”
“You’re so happy about that.” I kissed the top of his head, fully intending to kiss a lot more in a few moments.
“You seem surprised.” Declan tilted his head up, an ideal angle for kissing. “I love cuddling you. You’re my favorite pillow and blanket all in one.”
“Good.” I imitated his wiggle so he could feel that I was hard too.
“Wish I could do this every night.”
“Me too.” He had zero idea how much I wanted that to be true, nor how much I knew it couldn’t be, which was why I couldn’t waste this weekend.
The next day, I wasn’t about to waste our golden weekend with another minute more of work than I had to. Accordingly, I practically bolted up the walk from the driveway to the backdoor. I’d spent all morning counting down to being back home with Declan, and his pleased expression as I opened the door was worth every bit of hassle.
“You’re back early.” He was installed at the breakfast nook, Oz at his feet, a cup of coffee in front of him along with the remnants of a sandwich.
“I am.” I grinned at him. “I called in a favor from a friend so I didn’t have to stay as late.”
“You did that for me?” Declan’s cheeks were pink and his eyes sparkled. Making him happy was both heartbreakingly easy and incredibly gratifying. Like last night, he appreciated little things more than anyone I knew.
“For us.” I held his gaze. I needed this as much as he did, and learning to flex my no muscles wasn’t a bad thing either. We’d left our cozy blanket nest on the couch, and I couldn’t wait to get back to it. “This is our weekend alone, after all.”
“What’s that?” Declan gestured at the white paper bag in my hand. I’d visited the hospital gift shop on a break, and although limited in selection, I was pleased with my discovery.
“A potential hobby.” I handed him the bag to open. He withdrew the large, colorful rectangular box.
“A puzzle?” He made a slightly suspicious face.
“You can say no, but it’s got a mystery component.” I gestured at the picture on the front of the box, which depicted a drawing of a tall Victorian house not unlike this home. Unlike Eric’s, this house was decorated with period details and lots of great-grandmother-esque knickknacks. The artist had provided a peek at crowded rooms and secret hallways, and the back of the box revealed the secret we’d be trying to solve. “I thought we could give it a try? Might be fun.”