Page 86 of Breaking Point

“My shirt,” he explains, laying back, but that only presses his arm against mine.

I swallow, squeezing my eyes shut and taking a deep breath to relax. We settle in, and I slowly shift so that my back is to him. His breaths become deeper, and my heart slows, my muscles melting into the bed.

For a minute, I think he’s asleep until he turns again- this time his arm stretches across the bed in search of me. His chest flattens against my back, bicep at my temple. His next heavy exhale dissolves every last bit of tension.

Our breathing syncs, that feeling of safety and calm washing over me enough that sleep doesn’t come long after.

Chapter Forty

Olivia

“You’re sure you don’t need help?” I ask, chin propped on my knuckles. I sit at the marble counters of the guest house, watching Crew paint away the inside of the cabinet drawers.

Crew’s eyes lift for the third time, and he shakes his head before offering the paint brush. I grin in victory, “Since you won’t quit pestering.”

“Pestering,” I mock, snatching the brush. I lift a brow in challenge, carefully painting the drawer with a precise hand. “I think you’re just upset I’m doing it better than you.”

He huffs, the only indication he heard me, and I smile as he dusts his hands on his jeans and grabs a clean paint roller from nearby. He ceremoniously dumps a can of blue paint in the tray by my leg, splashing globs on me in the process.

I gape.

“Whoops,” he quips.

He did it on purpose.

I sit up, flicking paint at him and smiling when it covers his arm in navy.

“Dangerous game you’re playing,” he says darkly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say sweetly, but as soon as he’s distracted, I dip my brush in paint and aim for his leg.

Only, he’s expecting it. He catches my arm but the paint smears his pant leg anyways. I can’t help the laugh that escapes me when he growls in frustration. Until he releases me and smears the paint on his hands. He grabs a painted fistful of my shirt and drags me close.

We’re only inches away, his breath fanning my lips. Suddenly, the teasing is gone, replaced by something else.

Somethinghotter.

“Like I said,” he husks, eyes dropping to my mouth. “Dangerous game.”

I shake my head, the movement so small I’m not sure I’ve moved. “This doesn’t feel dangerous to me.” His eyes flicker to mine, and before I can register that he’s moved, he wipes a painted hand over my forearm, coating me. I gasp, shoving him back as he breaks into a fit of laughter.

“You don’t play fair!” I use my shirt to wipe the sticky residue off my skin. Even though I’m in the middle of plotting his downfall, we’re interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

“Oh.”

We freeze when we see Theresa and Jimmy standing in the doorway, watching us make a mess of everything. She backtracks with a knowing smile, tugging Jimmy. “Looks like everything’s good here, Honey-“

“We were just finishing up,” Crew says, offering a hand to help me up. I take it, brushing my hands on my pants and trying my best not to look guilty.

Theresa pats Jimmy’s chest shoving him back through the door. “We’ll have dinner on the porch.” She winks, and Iflush bright red. “You two are welcome to join us when you’re done.”

I blow out a breath when the door shuts.

“Why do I feel like a kid that just got reprimanded?” Crew laughs, rolling his neck.

“We made a mess.”

Paint is splattered everywhere, our hand prints left in places they shouldn’t be.

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