Page 52 of Chasing Sunsets

She giggles. “You don’t look fine. You look like you’re trying to fold yourself in half.”

“That’s because I am.” I shift again, but all that does is make her laugh harder.

“You could sleep on the couch,” she offers oh-so generously, pointing to the other side of the RV.

I turn my head to glare at the tiny excuse for a sofa against the opposite wall. “That’s not a couch,” I say flatly. “That’s a padded shelf.”

She snickers, and I feel the vibration of it against my chest.

“You think this is funny, huh?” I ask as I pinch her side.

“Hey,” she yelps. “You knew this RV was small.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t realize your bed was designed for hobbits.”

She bursts into full-blown laughter at that, muffling it against my skin, as if that’ll do anything to hide the fact that she’s completely entertained by my misery.

I groan, tipping my head back against the wall. “I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”

“Oh, I am.” She props herself up on her elbow, looking down at me with that mischievous glint in her eyes. “You didn’t seem to be suffering too badly a few minutes ago,” she says as she brings her lips to my jaw.

“I’m not suffering.” Another lie.

But I can’t be too mad when she’s looking at me like that, her smile softening, her fingers tracing lazy circles on my chest.

She sighs, settling back down, her body fitting against mine like she was made to be here. And despite the discomfort, despite the fact that I’ll probably wake up with a cramp in every single muscle, I tighten my arm around her, holding her close.

Because I don’t care if the bed is too damn small. If this is where she is, then this is where I want to be.

“But next time, Trouble,” I say as I kiss her temple, “I’m going to make good use of that hanging chair while you ride me.”

“Next time,” she repeats, her voice thick with sleep.

As she drifts off, I lie here holding her close, and my last thought before joining her in sleep is;Damn, that crack does look just like a dolphin.

Anson

Iheave another box onto my shoulder, ignoring the sharp twinge in my lower back. I try to hide the wince from Parker. That would be like blood in the water, and he’s been looking for an excuse to bust my balls since we started unloading Audrey’s stuff. Sebastian, Wade, and Lennon are no better—hell, Sebastian might be the worst. Parker and Sebastian feed off each other like a couple of damn circling sharks, enjoying my discomfort.

Unfortunately, I’ve got plenty of discomfort today. I barely slept last night. Not because I didn’t want to—God knows I wanted to—but because Tabby’s bed is about as big as a fucking postage stamp, and I’m a six-foot-two-inch man who doesn’t fold easily.

But I stayed.

I stayed because she was snuggled up against me, her head on my chest, her leg hooked over mine, completely content after we spent half the night tangled together. I stayed because when I did try to shift into a more comfortable position, she made a sleepy little sound of protest and burrowed closer, like sheneeded me there. And because, for the first time in a long time, I wanted to be needed.

“Damn, man,” Lennon says, dragging me out of my thoughts. “You sound like my grandpa. You pull something?”

I grunt as I drop the box onto the floor. “I’m fine.”

Sebastian smirks as he passes by with a lamp tucked under one arm. “That didn’t sound fine. That sounded like you threw your back out.”

“I didn’t throw my damn back out.”

Parker quirks a brow. “You sure about that? You’re walking like Donnie Dale.”

I roll my shoulders, trying to work out the stiffness. “Donnie Dale? Whatever. I’m walking just fine.”

“Uh-huh,” Sebastian drawls, clearly unconvinced. He sets the lamp down on the kitchen island and folds his arms. “So, what happened? Bad mattress? Sleep wrong?” His gaze sharpens. “Wait. What’s with the dark circles under your eyes? Did you even sleep?”

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