Page 36 of When I Fall In Love

“Whatever suits you.”

“Thank you.” She makes as if to walk in the direction of her cottage, then pauses next me. “Show me your place? I know it’s late but I’d love to see it.”

Before she leaves. Forever.

I should say no, but instead I say, “Sure. Let me just deal with the fire first.” There’s a bucket on standby and I scoop some water from the lake and kill the fire in a slow drizzle that sizzles but doesn’t splatter.

“It was such a nice evening,” Beth says as I put the bucket down. “Thank you for having me.”

“You’re welcome.” I’m still not sure how Beth ended up at Ethan’s party and I don’t poke around to find out. “This way.” I hold the glass door for her and shut it once she’s inside. “Living room, dining room, kitchen. This you’ve seen.”

“Yep.”

“This way then.”

We walk to the front door. “Guest bathroom on this side, office and guest suite on that side.” I give her a moment to peek inside my orderly life. “The staircase goes down to the basement. That’s still empty. And up to three more bedrooms, all with adjacent bathrooms. Want to see?”

“Yes. I’ll take my shoes off for this,” she says and toes them off as she pulls off her thick jacket and hooks it over the railing.

I do the same, getting rid of the work boots I’ve been wearing since fetching wood earlier. We take the stairs and I show her the other en suite bedrooms and TV lounge. When we eventually enter the main bedroom, she gasps. “Goodness, it’s so spacious. And you have a view over the lake?”

“Yes.” It’s the best spot in the entire A-frame house and my California bed is custom made for this, but she doesn’t need to know that. “The bathroom has views over the trees.” I hold the door for her, super conscious of having her in my most private space of them all, where countless nights I’ve jerked off and she’d filter into my sexual fantasy at some point.

“That’s the bathtub I wanted to have next door! Dang it.” Beth turns to me and smiles.

“You’re welcome to come use it, whenever—” Ah fuck. Inappropriate much? Idiot. Finish what you started. Save face. “Whenever you feel like it.”

Beth chuckles. “Thank you, but I think I need to pass.”

Fantastic. Face saved.

“It’s a stunning house, Hunter, really.”

Beth walks out of the bathroom and back into my bedroom and my center-stage bed that dares me to tumble her down, make her feel what I feel, make love to her as if we’re both going to be dead tomorrow, but the only thing I muster is a bland “Thanks.”

We hover, not making our way out of the bedroom to the landing and stairs.

“I’ve got to be at work at eight tomorrow,” I say.

“Yes, sorry, it’s late.”

Her gaze rests on my face, on my lips, then down to the triangle of my open shirt collar where rogue chest hair probably pokes out. “I like this look on you,” she says quietly. “So much more beard than when we were together.”

My breathing slows under her steady inspection and when her hand lifts to stroke at my stubble with featherlight fingertips, I stop breathing altogether. She’s changed too. Fuller breasts, fuller hips, sexier ass. It’s all here, in front of me, ready for the wanting… not taking.

Time stands still for once. She hasn’t pulled her hand away, and I drag in a deep breath as I smooth my hands over her hips and pull her to me. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Bee, more than you were back then.”

“I am?” she whispers, her fingers still on my jaw, now blocking the way to her lips with a gentle caress of her thumb over my bottom lip.

“God yes, and clearly trying to kill me here,” I whisper as I turn her around to face the mirrored built-in cupboards that line the back wall. “Just look at you.”

Her hands settle on mine where I’m holding her steady, pressing onto her hipbones and the hollows of her hips to the upper curve of her belly. She’s wearing a soft cashmere sweater, light pink and feminine with a pair of skinny jeans. I could strip her now, slowly, intentionally, until she’s wet and begging, but a lone tear is idling its way down her cheek and it’s as if the carpet is plucked from right under me. I push my face into the back of her head, trying to hide the emotions that play out on my face.

“He never said anything like that to me.”

“Who?” But I know who.

“Brad. My ex.”

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