Page 83 of Lost Love on 6th Street

Fuck. I push the thought away and exchange it for a new one. “Maybe you should sell your photographs. The world through Eleanor’s eyes.”

Her eyes roll back. I know it’s not intended to sting, but it does.

“I know I don’t know the industry, and I know it’s harder than that, but—”

“Really, Luke, it’s not easy to make people give a shit about what you see.”

I tap my fingers one at a time against her stomach until my hand is splayed against her. “How many pictures have you taken since you’ve been here? Hundreds? Thousands?”

“I don’t know, but—”

“Why not just try? We can rent you gallery space and have a show. Just one night. You never know what could—”

“Luke.”

Her voice is insistent and pained.

I bite down on my lower lip.

She shakes her head. “I’m not ready for that.”

I know she’s ready for that. And I’ll remain knowing until she’s ready to see that. I’ll be right here when she wakes up. Doesn’t she get that yet? I squeeze her waist. “Okay, honey.”

“Mm.” Her eyes flutter shut. “I love when you call me names.” Her eyes pop back open. “Nice names, not—”

I laugh. “I get your meaning, baby . . .” I drop a kiss to her clavicle. “Honey . . .” and to the inside of one breast. “Darlin’ . . .” and to the inside of the other.

Her whole body jolts, a shock of excited laughter shooting out of her mouth. “Oh, darlin’, fuck you with your little accent.”

I chuckle against her, dragging my teeth along her skin. “I’m not even close to done, sweetheart.”

We play this game until we’re tangled together and I’m rocking into her. We are both tired. Our movements are soft and unhurried. Eleanor locked around me like a koala bear. No room for me to pull out, not that I want to. I never want to leave. I’ve made a new home within her.

Eleanor whimpers into my neck, “Luke . . .”

Like she needs me. She can act like she doesn’t, but I’ll be here when she realizes she does need me. It’s a reciprocal need.

Eleanor’s body stutters and squeezes around me. I come with her, pressing a grunt into her hair. Her core is silken heat, gripping me, sending spasms of pleasure through every nerve and skein of muscles.

We can’t go back now, and I’ll do everything I can to keep us moving forward.

27

ELEANOR

I’m nesting in a big way.

No, there are no baby carriages involved, and there aren’t wedding bells either. More like dog beds and kibble.

Since I moved into my new place, I’ve had heart-eyes at all my neighbors and their canine friends.

I’m closing in on the end of the job at the archive, a mere week left. And while I haven’t found a permanent position, I’ve got some small gigs lined up thanks to Luke. Those will tide me over.

But still, I’m looking at having lots of time on my hands. And what better way to spend it than taking care of my own little fur baby?

“I’m all for it,” Luke says as he sprinkles a pinch of salt into the pot of boiling deliciousness on the stove. The man is literally perfect. “If you’re ready that is.”

“Then you wouldn’t have to worry about me spending the night here alone.”

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