Page 26 of Heartbeats & Highways

I turned to face him and gestured to my eyes. “Yeah. I noticed.” I cocked my head to the side. “Is that usual for you?”

“Yes. I never sleep well.” He rubbed his jaw, scratching the stubble on his chin. His brow was furrowed. “Except . . .”

“Except what?”

“The night you crawled up next to me.” His blue gaze pinned me to the floor. “That was the best night’s sleep of my life.”

We stared at one another, something surging between us. Something I didn’t understand. Something that made me want to run and hide under the bed until it disappeared.

That night would forever be imprinted on my mind. As was the kiss we’d shared when I’d woken up in his arms.

He raked a hand through his hair in agitation. “Fuck, Evie. Waking up with you in my arms was like?—”

“Don’t swear,” I blurted out.

“Does swearing bother you?”

I nodded.

“I’ll try and stop.”

“No, you won’t.” I snorted.

“No, I won’t,” he admitted with a boyish grin.

I went to the cabinet and pulled out an empty quart-sized mason jar and set it down in front of him.

“What’s this? You gonna make me my own sourdough starter?”

“No. This is your new swear jar. Every time you swear, you put a dollar in the jar.”

He stood up from his seat and reached into his jeans pocket for his wallet. He fished out a twenty-dollar bill and dropped it into the jar.

“Preemptive,” he explained with a wry grin. “We both know how the fuck this is gonna go.”

I let out a laugh that came from deep within my belly.

“You’re beautiful. But you’re fucking stunning when you laugh.”

My expression softened. “Really? You really think that?”

“God, yes.” He growled. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“You can’t?” I whispered.

He came toward me and cradled the back of my head in his large hands, tilting my chin up so I was forced to look at him.

“I fantasize about your lips.”

I blinked. “You do?”

“Yeah, I do.”

And then his mouth covered mine. I sighed and he captured the sound.

“Open for me,” he murmured against my lips.

I opened and his tongue swept inside. I clung to him as our tongues met. I lost myself in the feel of him. I grazed his chest—reveling in the hardness of his muscles beneath my fingertips.

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