Page 63 of Yours, Unexpectedly

Okay.

I wake up in a pitch black room with a strong arm wrapped firmly around my middle and delicious beard stubble grazing my shoulder.

Last night was quite possibly the best night of my life. This whole weekend has been something out of a fairy tale, but reality starts to hit as I blink my eyes, trying to orient myself. I look over at the clock on the nightstand and see that it’s just after ten in the morning. Damn, those blackout curtains are nice.

“What time is it?” comes the ruggedly, sleepy voice behind me.

“Ten-ish,” I respond.

“Mmmkay. Just a few more minutes until the masseuse gets here. Think we can sneak in a quickie?”

I turn in his grip and sling my leg over his, kissing him on his nose. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“Always will be, when it comes to you,” he mutters, his eyes still closed.

The way he speaks with such certainty about the future—our future—makes my stomach swoop. I can’t tell if it’s a butterflies swoop or more of an I’m-going-to-vomit swoop, but it’s there all the same.

“I can hear you overthinking,” he says as he nuzzles his face between my breasts. “Mmm, I like it here.”

A laugh pops out of me. “You are ridiculous! If the masseuse is almost here, we should get cleaned up. This room smells like sex.”

“My new favorite smell, I’ve decided,” he says on a yawn.

I kiss him one more time, because damn I really can’t help myself, before wriggling out of his grip, hopping out of bed, and flinging open the curtains.

He dramatically throws the comforter over his face and yells, “THE LIGHT!” entirely too loud for someone who seemed so sleepy only a moment ago.

“No wonder you’re an actor, you’re very good,” I tease.

Anders peeks his eyes over the top of the covers and mumbles, “And you’re an evil woman. Gloriously naked, but still evil.”

“I’m going to hop in the shower, care to join me?”

The theatrics are gone and he’s out of the bed and into the bathroom, already starting to turn the taps before I even have the chance to finish my question. I do, however, have the chance to admire his beautiful bubble butt as he hurries across the room.

I huff a laugh. “I guess that’s a yes.”

I make a mental note to reward Anders’ foresight. Booking an in-room massage after the night we had was precisely what the doctor ordered.

As we walk down to the subway, because I insisted I pay for something on this trip, and neither of us wanted to chance finding parking in the city. I can’t help but think back to an hour ago when some impossibly strong woman was working all of the knots out of my back with impressive accuracy. I definitely need to find someone who can do that back home, though I’m not sure I trust anyone in Sassafras to massage me.

Anders reaches over and laces our fingers together, pulling me closer to him so we can weave through the crowds without getting separated.

“Where are we going, again?” I ask.

I’ve been to the city several times over the years, especially since it was an easy trip to make from Massachusetts, but Anders grew up here, so I’m letting him take the lead again today. We checked out of the hotel after our massages, but we’ll have to go back to grab Anders’ car before we head home.

Home. We’ll also need to talk about that today, I suppose.

“Brooklyn,” he replies, answering my earlier question. “There’s a bookstore down there that I want to take you to.”

I perk up at that. “A bookstore?”

He bops me on the nose with his finger and then brings it under my chin to give him better access to my lips. “You’re easy to please, Baby Bardot,” he whispers against them before giving me a deep kiss.

“You know… I’m pretty sure there’s a bookstore in Brooklyn that only sells romance novels,” I muse.

He gives me a panty-melting smirk. “You don’t say!”

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