Page 121 of When the Smoke Clears

His lips are warm, especially compared to the cool November air, as he presses a soft kiss to my own. I’ve felt gratitude in massive waves today, but my thanks for this man are never-ending.

“I’ll be right back.” He kisses me again and heads back into the main house before returning with a large beige bag thrown over a shoulder and several comforters trapped under the other arm.

I extend my hands for a comforter, but he only arches an eyebrow at me.

“And you call me a stubborn ass.”

He slaps my ass as I crest the top stairs.

“Hey!” I call over my shoulder with a laugh.

“It’s a love tap.” His laugh is young and free. I never want this night to end.

In the meadow, Sutton parks facing out from where the house will sit one day. A small battery-operated unit blows up the massive air mattress he throws into the back of the truck. I can only hear it, not see, because obviously I’m not allowed to get out of the truck until he comes to get me. I snort at the thought.

I wonder if he realizes he’s turning me into a passenger princess. A girl could get used to letting someone else do all the work. Actually, I don’t think I’m capable.

Finally, he opens my door. “You been feeling better, yeah?”

My brows furrow. “Yeah…”

“Good.” He leans in and unclips my buckle.

I open my mouth to inquire just what’s going on when he grabs me on either side of my waist, pulling me out of the open door. My hands reach to brace on his shoulders, but he throws me over his shoulder, causing me to squeal.

“I never realized how much I’d love that,” he chuckles, the sound vibrating his chest.

Blood rushes to my head and I grip his cool jacket with both hands. “Hauling me around like a bale of hay?”

He laughs louder. “Have you seen anyone haul hay here?”

“That’s. Not. The point,” I grunt into his back.

Sutton sits me upright in a whoosh and lands me on the open tailgate. My head spins as the blood rushes back into my body.

“Listening to you squeal.” His arms cage me in on either side.

I can’t be sure, but I think I feel my pupils dilate as I take him in standing in the dark, lit from behind by the semi-covered moon.

“Oh?” My voice is breathless, and I don’t try for more. His effect on me is always instantaneous—his hold on my arousal, as much as his grasp on my emotions.

His lips brush mine teasingly. “Yeah, oh. I’m a fan of all the sounds you make.” I’m chasing after him when he pulls back.

“I see.”

“You know, I thought I was becoming addicted to you.”

I swallow. “I remember. Did you get yourself in check?”

“Never.” His nose drags along my jaw and into my loose hair. “In fact, I think it’s much worse than I thought.”

I try for “oh no” but all that comes out is a breathy “ohhh” as my body stills, afraid that if I move too much he’ll pull back again.

“I warned you about sharing. And you’ve been such a good girl,” he breathes, tickling my ear. “But it’s getting worse. I don’t even like sharing you with family.”

“Good thing I don’t want to sleep with them.”

He pulls back and grabs my jaw in the crook of his hand in a flash. “Not funny, Firecracker.” There’s mirth in his stormy eyes, though.

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