Page 33 of What We Keep
We’d blown far past sensible when I first kissed her. But all I knew, what was guiding me, was what I wanted, which was not to untangle myself from Elsa. I was ready to sign up for all the complications. I didn’t care about any of them. “What do you want to do now?”
She tipped her head to the side, tracing a fingertip along my collarbone. The gesture, kind of sweet, was like the lick of a flame on my skin.
“I don’t know. We could watch a movie.” She giggled. “I guess that’s my way of saying, it feels weird to go back into my bedroom alone and have you on the other side of that wall.”
My entire being rebelled against that idea. “Does it feel better if we go back to sleep together?”
She nodded instantly. “Yes.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
I gave her a lingering kiss, and we disentangled ourselves. After we both tidied up in the bathroom, Elsa stood bashfully outside the side-by-side doors of our bedrooms. “Where do you want to sleep?”
I stopped in front of her, trailing my thumb along the side of her jaw as I cupped her chin and gave her a lingering kiss. “With you. I think you have the better bed.”
She leaned her head back to peer up. “You gave me the better bed?” Her eyes went wide.
I chuckled. “I stayed where I did when we stayed here after the fire.”
“Who stayed in my room?”
“I think it was Jude, but I’m not sure.”
She giggled again and tugged me into her bedroom. This shouldn’t have felt so easy, but it did. Being with Elsa was easy.
When she fell asleep curled against me, my arm around her with her head resting in the curve of my shoulder, I pondered how right this felt, and how I’d promised myself so many things in the aftermath of the fire.
One of them, remembering to keep what mattered. Elsa mattered. As much as my skeptical mind, my busy life, and so many other things could persuade me this was a bad idea, right now, I just wanted to sleep with Elsa held close. So I did.
Chapter Seventeen
Elsa
I tipped my head to the side, studying the barn doors. Jude and Haven had propped the old sign against the side of the barn. Years back, someone had carved it for their grandparents when they first built this place. It was stunning to me how someone could take driftwood gathered from the shore and carve it into this beautiful image of a waterfall.
“Are you sure you want me to paint it?” I asked doubtfully.
When I glanced toward the brothers, Haven stood there casually with his thumb hooked in a belt loop. And, damn, if that man wasn’t the definition of a rugged firefighter outdoorsman. He wore a faded denim shirt open over a T-shirt. A strip of his tanned skin was visible where the waistband of his battered pair of jeans tugged down a smidge from the pull on the belt loop.
I doubted the purpose of the T-shirt was meant to be sexy, but on him, it outlined his muscular chest, and his broad shoulders filled it out. The soft-worn fabric invited me to tease my fingers over it.
Jude cleared his throat, and I ripped my eyes away from Haven.
“How ya doing there, Elsa?” Jude teased, a sly glint in his eye.
“I’m fine.” My cheeks were burning up, but I was far enough away that I convinced myself Jude couldn’t tell.
“Of course, we want it painted,” Jude added. “The driftwood is beautiful, but you can’t really tell what it’s supposed to be.”
“It was painted before,” Haven added.
When I briefly flicked my gaze to his, the heat in his eyes practically crackled in the air between us.
I cleared my throat. “Okay, tell me what you want.”
“We trust your artistic judgment,” Jude said, his gaze sober enough that I was pretty sure he was serious.
“Um, okay then. I’ll see what I can do.”
