Page 33 of Love Songs

“I think you should stay the night,” I said as I tossed the cloth back into the bathroom.

Conor made a sound of agreement and rolled over onto his side, facing the middle of the bed. He patted the empty space, and I crawled into bed beside him, pulling the covers over us as I mirrored his position and put my back to him. Conor snuggled up behind me and tucked his arm around my waist. His breath tickled the fine hairs at the back of my neck, and a sigh of blissful contentment passed through my lips.

Why did this feel so perfect? Like I’d found more than a house to call home here in Caldwell Crossing? I’d traveled all over the world for more than a decade, met thousands and thousands of people, but it wasn’t until this small town that I’d stumbled upon the one man I could imagine a future with.

I hoped he felt even a little the same.

A thought crossed my mind that I should probably be freaking out right now. Or I should freak out because I wasn’t freaking out. I hadn’t had many boyfriends, even fewer girlfriends, and I rarely let the people I slept with spend the night. But having Conor in my bed felt right in a way I couldn’t deny.

It was too soon and a little ridiculous for me to be thinking this way, but I could see him fitting into my life with Jaylin. The most bizarre thing was that it felt like he already was a part of my little family.

Conor tightened his arm around my waist, snuggled closer and mumbled into the shell of my ear, “Your thinking is keeping me awake.”

I snorted and grabbed his hand, tucking it under my chin and kissing his knuckles.

The future was a tomorrow problem.

“EARTH TO HOLLY.”

I jerked out of my mind’s constant replay of last night with Dallas, the mental gears grinding as they switched to the here and now. I winced and looked up to see Whittaker watching me with conflicting expressions of concern and humor on his face.

“What?”

“You’ve been standing there staring into space for the last ten minutes.” Whittaker waved at my hand. “Polishing the same spot.”

“Oh.” I glanced at the engine’s bumper.Yep. That one spot was super shiny. “Just thinking about the hella wicked trails I’m going to hit on my bike this weekend.”

“Right,” Whittaker said with a dubious note in his voice. He wiggled his eyebrows. “Or thinking about a certain rock star you’ve been seen hanging out with.”

“Funny,” I deadpanned, but there was no way I was going to tell him I was still thinking about waking up in bed with Dallas this morning, or about the sinuous way his body moved when I rocked into him, or the sounds he made every time I drove him to the edge and back, or the way he’d shouted when we came together. I’d had a lot of great sex. But last night, and twice thismorning, with Dallas had been unexpectedly mind-blowing. Scratch that.Beyondmind-blowing.

“Are we talking about Conor dating Dallas Blade?” Jackson asked when he walked into the apparatus bay.

“Oh my God.” I threw my arms up. “There is no dating. I am not dating Dallas Blade. You two have been spending too much listening to Mrs. Jennings and her crew’s gossip.”

“Well, it’s not exactly gossip,” Jackson said with a shrug. “It’s no secret you two have been seen together all over town since the bachelor auction.”

“We haven’t beenall over town.” I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, so what’s the deal?” Whittaker said. I swear, the man was five years older than me but acted five years younger than Jackson.

“No deal,” I said, finding a new spot on the bumper to polish. “I’ve been playing a good host and showing him around is all.”

Jackson snickered like a friggin’ high schooler. “I bet that’s not all you’ve been showing him.”

“Ha-ha,” I intoned. Then lowered my voice and flashed a flirty grin at him. “Wouldn’t you like to see what I’ve got to show.”

Jackson’s eyebrows rose and Whittaker snorted, jabbing an elbow into Jackson’s ribs.

“You walked into that one,” Whittaker teased. His gaze shifted over my shoulder, and he tipped his chin toward the front of the bay. “Well, speak of the devil.”

I followed his line of sight to the open bay doors, and Dallas himself strolled in wearing jeans and an emerald, open-collared shirt under his black jean jacket. He’d pushed his sunglasses up onto his head, which pulled his long hair back from his smiling face.

Fuck, he’s gorgeous.

“Hey, Conor,” Dallas said when he stopped in front of me with a glance over my shoulder at my coworkers. The deep green of his shirt made the brightness in his blue eyes pop—as if they weren’t already electric enough. “Hope it’s okay I dropped by unannounced.”

“It’s all good. Welcome to the CCFD.” My pulse kicked into high gear, words fled, and after what felt like a forever moment of awkwardness as the four of us stood there in silence, I turned to the guys. “Don’t you two have something to do somewhere else?”

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