Page 92 of Resist

Coulton didn’t argue with her. Instead, he looked at her in that way she was becoming completely addicted to. Like he was in awe of her. “I’m glad you’re selling the tavern and pursuing something that will make you happy.”

She shrugged. “I’m hoping it doesn’t take too long for me to start making money, so I can pay my share around here.”

Coulton grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m a rich hockey player, remember?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Your money has nothing to do with why I’m with you. I don’t want you to think?—”

“I don’t think that, Ainsley,” he interjected. “But if I want to spoil you, I will, dammit. And there’s not a thing you can do to stop me. So will you please stop writing down the cost of everything I buy for you in that stupid notebook?”

That was going to be a hard promise to make. “I’ll…try.”

Coulton pressed his forehead to hers. “That’s the best I’m going to get from you, isn’t it?”

She nodded.

“Fine,” he said begrudgingly. “I’ll take it. So what’s the second part of your dream future?”

“You.” It was funny how telling him about her career choice was harder than admitting to Coulton that she wanted her happy ending to include him. For someone who’d spent too much of her adult life approaching romance like it was a war zone, and any minute a sniper could take her out, she found it surprisingly easy to talk to Coulton about her feelings.

Probably because he wore his on his sleeve, and he was not shy about sharing them with her. Telling him she loved him Thursday night had broken down every single barrier between them, and if she’d thought him a PDA aficionado before, that wasnothingcompared to how he’d been all weekend.

He was constantly holding her hand, giving her soft kisses, telling her she was beautiful and that he loved her. He’d actually asked his dad—in front of her—if he thought Christmas was too soon to buy her an engagement ring. Ainsley had laughed, thinking it a joke, until Chase assured him it wasn’t too soon at all, and that Coulton better stake a claim before some other guy tried to steal her away.

Ainsley had quickly set both men straight, pointing out they hadn’t even dated a month yet, and that Christmas was far too soon. Melanie complimented her efforts, then warned her that Moore men were impossible to resist. She told Ainsley that Chase had proposed to her after just three months of dating, and that she’d said yes and never once looked back.

Coulton leaned toward her, giving her a hard, hungry kiss that matched the look in his eyes. They hadn’t had sex since she’d started staying here on Thanksgiving. For one thing, his parents had been in the guest room down the hall. But more than that, she got the sense that Coulton knew how emotionally fragile she was, and he was giving her space and time to heal.

Time she no longer needed.

When their lips parted, he cupped her cheeks. “Looks like you’re fifty percent of the way to your happily ever after. Because you already have me, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Coulton,” she said softly.

“I mean it, Ainsley. You can insist it’s too fast or too soon as much as you want, but you won’t convince me because I know this is the real deal. You’re the first person I want to talk to in the morning and your face is the last one I want to see when I close my eyes at night. You challenge me, you make me happy, and I love you.”

She sniffled, certain she’d never heard nicer words in her life. “I feel the same way. Do you mind if we don’t finish watching this movie?”

“You want to watch something else?” he asked, reaching for the remote.

“Yeah. You. Getting undressed.”

Coulton turned the television off. “Okay, but only if I get to watch the same thing.”

Ainsley laughed when he pulled her up from the couch, bending over in one fluid motion to toss her over his shoulder before carrying her to his bedroom.

Once they were inside, he drew her close, kissing her with a passion that took her breath away.

Ainsley had spent most of her life wishing for time to move more quickly, never happy with where she was. That was not the case when it came to Coulton. With him, she found herself constantly praying for time to stand still.

Coulton kept saying this was forever, but as he kissed her, she knew even that wouldn’t be long enough.

She was breathless by the time he released her. Then he gave her a charming grin as he tugged his shirt over his head. The sight of his chest, his rock-hard abs, always had her reconsidering her medium. Drawing was all well and good, but to truly capture his beauty, she would need to take up sculpting.

Reaching out, she ran her fingers over his bare chest. Coulton grasped her hand, pulling on it until her palm rested over his heart. “This is where I want my first tattoo from you.”

“The first, huh?” she asked, thrilled that he trusted her artistic talent enough to let her ink him when the time was right.

“You can use my whole body as your canvas,” he said, drawing her shirt over her head, placing a kiss on her shoulder, his finger tracing one of the patterns inked there.

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