Page 108 of Caught in the Axe
I gasped and almost dropped my phone. Husband material? Willa wasn’t wrong. Not that I was looking for a husband. Fuck no.
But I couldn’t help but daydream a little. Owen would be an incredible husband. God, I was insane. A few bags of flour, and I was practically writing vows. And we still hadn’t talked about what was going to happen when he had to leave Lovewell. Would he want to do long distance? Would I?
This was real, no matter how much I might like to deny it. And letting him go was unconscionable. So we’d have to figure it out. God, I was such a mess. I’d come over here to seduce him, and now I was spiraling into what-ifs.
Positive thinking, Lila. I’d come here to get laid, and clearly, I needed to take my mind off everything.
So, at his suggestion, I did take a bath. I couldn’t resist the claw-foot tub situated in front of a massive window that looked out at the moonlit mountains. I enjoyed a glass of wine and a spicy book in that bath, which only served to make me ravenous for him to get home.
Neediness was one of my worst traits. I’d promised myself I’d work on it, but it was virtually impossible where Owen was concerned. Something about him made me ache. I never felt the need to keep up some cool girl facade with him. No need to feign indifference. Nope, I was a full-on crazy woman, getting jealous and mounting him behind a dive bar.
He’d come so far, and I loved that he was making an effort to spend time with his brothers. I wanted him to cultivate those relationships. But I also wanted him here with me, preferably naked. God, I was so ridiculous.
So I entertained myself, first with a rom-com and a second glass of wine, and later by looking at the collection of brand-new, ultra-soft flannel shirts neatly hanging in the closet. Huh. Between these, the cedarwood beard oil I found in the bathroom, and his new affinity for chopping wood with the boys after work, he had clearly taken to the mountain man lifestyle easily.
Which was good for me. It was hot as fuck.
But standing there, staring at those neatly hung shirts, I had an idea.
When I heard his car pull up, I rushed into position, giddy over the thought of surprising him.
I perched on the freshly cleaned countertop, shaking with excitement.
“Lila,” he said, toeing off his boots at the door.
“Holy shit,” he exclaimed when he saw me. “Are you wearing my shirt?”
With a feral growl, he stalked over to me and picked me up.
“And nothing else?” He ran a hand over my bare hip as I wrapped my arms around his neck.
He set me on my feet and took a step back. “Let me look at you.”
I put my hands on my hips, and the lapels of the shirt slid farther open, exposing my breasts.
Groaning, he bit his fist. “You are a masterpiece. God, you in that shirt.”
“Did you buy a pizza oven and attempt to make gluten-free pizza for me?” I asked.
His gaze never moved from my body. “Yes. I’m awful at it. Almost burned the place down one night. But I’m getting better.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Course I do. My woman wants pizza, I will provide her with the best damn pizza on planet earth. Even if I have to study hydration ratios and yeast fermentation rates to do it.”
“I love it when you talk dirty. I’ve been waiting ages for you. Take me to bed, Owen.”
He tapped his chin, still admiring the sight of me naked in his shirt. Owen looked at me like I mattered more than anything in his world. Whether I was naked or dressed up or in sweats, his eyes always lit up when they found me. And right now, they were on fire.
And so was I.
“Are you gonna look?” I asked, shrugging the collar of the shirt off my shoulders so it caught at my elbows, “or are you gonna touch?”
Grasping my upper arms, he pulled me in for a kiss.
I wound my arms around his neck, my fingers threading through his hair while our lips and tongues tangled. I was wild and frantic, desperate for him, but he was as controlled as ever.
“I wanted to do this at the bar,” he said, kissing along my jawline and hitting the spot that drove me wild. “Kiss you, hold you, and claim you in front of everyone.”
