Page 61 of Long Shot

Shocking the hell out of me, she reaches for my hand and curls her fingers around it. “Thank you.”

I turn my hand to clasp hers, too. I fix my gaze on it . . . her long, slender fingers with short pink nails in my big, rough, hairy paw. Something turns over in my chest. “Go to sleep,” I say in a hushed tone. “I’ll stay for a while.”

“Okay.”

13

REESE

Jack’s putting on weight.

I let him sleep on my bed, and often he likes to sleep right against my legs. But tonight he’s pressed against my back . . . and he’s really warm . . . and he’s breathing near my ear . . .

That’s not Jack.

I jolt awake.

Oh, my God. Memories flood back. It’s Cade. He’s in my bed. He’s spooned up against my back, one big arm over my waist. He’s muscular. Hot. Like,literallyhot. I’m so warm and cozy and . . . secure. But . . .Cade.

“You awake?” His voice rasps near my ear.

After a brief hesitation where I consider pretending to be asleep, I say, “Yeah.”

“How’re you feeling?”

I draw in a long breath and assess my state of being. Blessedly, my heart rate is normal, my chest not constricted, and I don’t feel dizzy. Just . . . weary. “Good.”

“Good.” He gives me a squeeze.

I do another assessment. I’m still wearing my short, stretchy black dress. Cade’s legs are bare against mine. Is he naked? Sweet baby Jesus. My pussy clenches hard at the thought and I have to resist pushing my ass back against him.

“What are you still doing here?” I whisper.

“Didn’t want to leave you when you weren’t feeling well.”

“I wasn’t sick,” I object halfheartedly.

“I know. But you weren’t feeling well. Were you?”

“No.” I wrinkle my nose. “It’s so embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed.”

“Easy to say.”

“I know.” He shifts and readjusts our position.

“What time is it?”

“Mmm . . . a little after midnight.”

“Oh. I thought maybe it was morning.”

“You’ve only been asleep for a few hours.”

“Oh, God.” I spin under his arm so I’m facing him. With our heads on the pillow, face-to-face, I regard his shadowy features. The hall light is still on, the door partly open, so I can see his face. “I am so sorry.”

His mouth curves. “It’s fine, Reese. Stop apologizing.” His hand squeezes my hip. “Want to tell me what was going on with you?”

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