Page 73 of The Pretenders of Copper County
I smiled, too. “Okay.” I wasn’t sure if Reed was being honest or just really sweet, but gosh, I wanted it to be true. “Now, can we?—”
“Chris.” He shook my shoulders lightly. “Do you believe me?”
I sucked in a breath. His expression was more serious than I’d ever seen it… at least, when I wasn’t actively in danger.
“I wanted you from the minute you got in my car, smelling like vanilla and lime.” He pressed his forehead to mine, and his hands traced down my arms so he could link our fingers together. “I couldn’t keep myeyes off you. I could barely keep my hands off you. Iseeyou, Chris. Right now, you’re all I see.”
Reed sounded a little desperate. A little lost and a tiny bit uncertain. It was very un-Reed-like, but it made my stomach flip and warmth spread through my middle. Because seeing him like this, thinking maybe he was having… you know,feelings, even temporary ones… was so much more than I’d ever expected.
I liked it. I maybe even—my heart beat so loud I couldn’t hear my own thoughts—maybe evenlovedit.
Loved…Reed.
It was hard to be embarrassed or ashamed about that when every time I shared some new weakness of mine with the man, he listened to me and supported me and made me feel strong. It was hard to hold back my feelings, or evenwantto, when every day Reed shared more of himself, making me feel like I wasn’t just an assignment or a person he protected out of duty but someone he actually cared about.
So it was okay if he was a little lost right now. Because this time, he could followmylead.
“If I’m all you see,” I whispered. “Keep your eyes on me.”
Then, I sank to my knees.
As I slowly and deliberately peeled Reed’s clothes off, touched him and licked him in all his—and my—favorite places, he never stopped looking.
His eyes followed my every move. He saw me when I ran my tongue slowly around the head of his cock, when I lapped up the stickiness from the tip. He saw me when I reached down and stroked myself after he started making those deep noises in his throat that told me he was about to lose control.
And he never took his eyes off me as I took him deeply enough to choke and sputter.
His eyes were dark and knowing. All seeing. They touched parts of me no one had ever even considered looking at before, and they saw parts of me I’d buried so deep, even I barely knew they existed anymore.
His eyes on me were like an intimate caress that turned every nerve ending into a live wire.
As my release hit and my eyes started to roll back, I heard his rough voice break.
“Never want tostopseeing you.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
REED
Even knowingthat people were Chris’sthingdidn’t make it easier to accept when the man threw an impromptu welcome party in the clearing outside the caretaker cabin where we were supposed to be hiding out.
To be fair, the party hadn’t entirely been his doing.
He’d created an epic charcuterie spread for Dolores, Bob, and the two of us, as promised, but when Watt Bartlett and his friend Oliver had wandered over from next door just as we’d started to eat—probably to fanboy overJohn Ruffianwith my husband—I knew Chris wouldneverhave been rude enough to send them away. And when Hen Lattimer had pulled up in a car driven by his grandson and grandson-in-law and had hobbled over on his cane to “see for himself” that Chris was okay after hearing he’d been spotted in town earlier, I knew it just made sense—in Chris’s mind, at least—for him to offer them chairs, on account of Hen’s leg, and then offer to light the fire pit so Hen wouldn’t get a chill when the sun set.
And who in the world couldevvvverhave predicted, living in one of the most close-knit, gossip-loving towns inthe known universe—having spent my formative years in the Hollow, I could say this with accuracy—that once you had three Coppertians and a few O’Learians in your yard, they’d proliferate like rabbits?
I mean,Icould have predicted it.
In fact, Ihadwhen Hen had gotten out his phone—one of the ones with extra-large buttons so you couldn’t misdial—and started making calls. Because when Hen had tried to call Micah, the florist, to come see some of the paint colors Chris had chosen for the cabin renovations and get inspiration for fixing up his husband’s office, Hen had called Jamie from the Bar and Grill by accident. An easy mistake anyone could have made since those two names were so very, very similar. And naturally, Hen had felt the need to tell Jamie where he was and what he was doing, and Jamie and his boyfriend, Parker, who claimed they lived in a state of “perpetual renovation” at their own house, had wanted to swing by.
After that, it hadn’t really been much of a surprise to anyone—except my sweet protectee—when Jamie had told one of the bakers, and Parker had texted his pal Gideon, andtheyhad told their spouses, friends, dentists, weird cousins, and preschool playmates about the “party.”
Literally thirty minutes later, four dozen people had packed up their pets and children, pillaged a couple of grocery stores, stolen every cupcake in Fanaille, and possibly hijacked a couple of DoorDashers before congregating on our lawn.
By which I meant—and this bore repeating—the lawn of the cabin where we were supposed to behiding out.
Still, watching Chris swan around the yard, eyeglasses glinting in the firelight as he refilled his guests’ drinks, cheeks blushing as they praised the foodhe’d prepared, smile glowing with newfound confidence as he explained his renovation plans, it was hard to be too upset.
