Page 116 of Far From Sherwood Forest
After I walk Spencer to his truck and tell him I’ll see him next week at the ranch, I head back inside the cabin. Closing the door, I lean against the wood, my eyes on Henry’s back where he stands at the sink doing dishes. For an entire minute, I just stay there and watch him, my heart so fucking full.
Pushing off the door, I cross the cabin and press my front against his back, wrapping my arms around his middle. He shuts off the water, dries his hands on a towel, and then leans into me.
“What’s this for?”
“Because you’re fucking amazing.”
He grabs onto my arms, loosening them enough for him to turn around. As he faces me, his brows are furrowed deep like he truly has no idea what I mean. “Why do you say that?”
“Really, Henry?” I tighten my arms around him again. “Youdidn’t have to share that part of yourself, but you did. You saw someone who always avoided being alone whenever he could and let him know that you understand. That you care.”
His nose wrinkles as his upper lip curls. “It’sSpencer. I don’t care.”
“Am I supposed to pretend to believe that?”
His face falls, and his jaw ticks beneath his beard. “Yes.”
Laughing, I move my hands to the front of his park shirt and start slowly undoing the buttons. “I’ll do that for you if you do something for me.”
Henry catches my wrists, holding my hands to his chest. “Are you sure you’re feeling better?” he asks as he places the back of his other hand against my forehead, checking my temperature.
I let myself lean into his touch as I stare into his eyes. I swear the gold in them gets brighter every day.
“You know, I guess I could use one more sponge bath.”
His eyes darken as his hand moves from my forehead to the side of my neck. He arches a brow, and his voice drops to a deep rumble that goes right to my cock. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” I whisper on a breath as his mouth moves closer to mine. “But, this time, don’t stop.”
A growl touches my lips a second before his mouth follows, kissing me hard as he forces me backward to our bedroom.
Eight months later.
I have no idea why the fuck I agreed to go on this camping trip.
Oh, right.
Because Robin asked me to, and I give him literally anything he wants.
I never thought I’d be wrapped this tightly around anybody’s finger, but here we are.
I guess it’s not that bad, though. The buzz in my head from the beer feels nice, a hell of a lot nicer than it used to. The warmth from the fire seeps into my bones, the crackling of the flames harmonizing with the songs of cicadas, creating background music against the calm, early summer night.
Apparently, John’s wife is out of town for a girl’s trip, so Robin suggested a guy’s weekend. We’re all sitting around the fire at one of the campsites at the back of the park. John, Brian, and Spencer are in the middle of a conversation about some of the summer events. I’m half-heartedly listening when they mention something about ranger-led hikes. As much as Ihate the idea, I’m too distracted by the smile lighting up Robin’s entire being.
The glow of the fire softens some of the sharp planes of his face, throwing flickers of gold across his cheekbones and catching in the green of his eyes. He leans back in his chair, beer dangling from his relaxed hand, his attention on Will who’s telling him about the woman he met in town a couple of weeks ago.
I’m not even paying attention to a word Brian says, my focus pulled fully into Robin’s gravity, like the fire’s orbit doesn’t end at the ring of stones around it, but at him.
Will says something, and laughter spills out of him like it costs nothing.
I hope I get to keep seeing Robin happy for the rest of my life.
When he lifts his beer for a drink, his gaze leaves his cousin and finds me. He pauses with the bottle near his lips and smiles even brighter. Everyone else’s presence fades to the background until they’ve practically disappeared, which is what I’d prefer.
I’m still not great with people. I don’t think I ever will be.
But when Robin looks back at Will, I let my eyes close, and Ivy’s old cabin flashes in my mind like a reminder.
