Page 11 of Falling for Felix
"I can't feel my legs."
I smirk against her neck. "Good."
She laughs, the sound bright and uninhibited, and slides down from the counter on unsteady legs. "Bed?"
My own legs shake as I follow her to the small sleeping area at the back of the RV, where we collapse onto the narrow bed in a tangle of limbs and satisfied exhaustion. She curls against my side, her head finding the hollow of my shoulder like it was made to fit there.
Pickles, completely unbothered by the evening's activities, rolls over in his dog bed with a snort.
"So," Harper murmurs, tracing lazy patterns on my chest with her fingertip. "That happened."
"Mmm."
"Any regrets?"
I tighten my arm around her waist, pulling her closer. "Ask me in the morning."
She tilts her head to look at me, brown eyes soft in the dim light. "That's the second time you've said that."
"Said what?"
"Ask me tomorrow. Ask me in the morning." She props herself up on one elbow. "Are you planning to have regrets?"
I study her face—the way her hair falls in messy waves around her shoulders, the slight flush still coloring her cheeks, the honest curiosity in her expression.
"No," I say finally. "I won’t ever regret being with you.”At least, not until you leave me.
"Good." She settles back against me. "Because I'm not going anywhere."
Is she reading my mind?
"You sure about that?” I ask. “Thought you were the type who never stays in one place?”
"I was." Her voice is quiet, thoughtful. "But maybe I just hadn't found the right place yet."
Something shifts in my chest at her words. A loosening of something I'd kept locked tight for too long.
"Harper?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad your dog ran into the corn maze."
She laughs, soft and sleepy. "Me too."
Outside, the festival winds down. I can hear voices fading, car doors slamming, the distant sound of cleanup beginning. Tomorrow there will be another day of vendors and tourists, of carefully maintained distance and polite small talk.
But right now, wrapped around this woman who stumbled into my life like a force of nature, I can't remember why I ever thoughtalonewas better.
Chapter 7
Harper
ThefirstthingInotice when I wake up is the unfamiliar weight of an arm around my waist.
The second is the delicious ache in muscles I didn't even know I had.
I stretch slowly, carefully, trying not to wake the man currently using my shoulder as a pillow. Felix looks different in sleep. Younger somehow, with his dark hair mussed and the perpetual tension gone from his jaw. His breathing is deep and even, and I can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my ribs.
