Page 51 of Surly Sheriff
Beau smiled. “Go to sleep.” He tucked the stubborn lock of hair behind her ear. “Night, Rae.”
“Night, Beau. Sweet dreams.”
“You, too.”
Rae fell asleep almost immediately.
But Beau wasn’t so fortunate.
He spent the remainder of the night watching over her.
12
Marking his territory
For the eighth day in a row, Beau woke up in bed with Rae. Only this time she wasn’t curled on her side of the bed where she fell asleep. She was sprawled half over him, her head tucked beneath his chin, arm draped across his torso, and her leg hooked over his thigh.
He lay very still, not wanting to wake her as she had worked late into the night on some coding stuff, while he had gone to bed at eleven, falling asleep to the tapping drifting in from the kitchen. He tilted his head and brushed a kiss over her crown, the soft hair tickling his nose. She colored her hair last Friday, the dark roots now as white as the rest. And he wondered briefly at her natural color. Dark brown? Black? Or maybe a rich chestnut? He wanted to know every detail about her.
Fuck, Stirling. You have it bad.
He exhaled, admitting that he was more than ass over teakettle. He was falling in love with Raegan-with-an-ae, andhe wanted to linger and savor the feeling, but nature called, his bladder bursting.
And he could hear the patter of dog paws in the passage. The canine male in the house needed a bathroom break, too.
With great care, he extricated himself from under her hold and slipped off the bed. She moaned, and he held his breath. He had no idea what time she crawled into bed and over him, but she had the morning off, and he was loathe to wake her. But she resettled, curling her arm around his pillow, and he breathed easier. He pulled the sheet over her body and tucked the end around her neck, resisting the urge to kiss her again.
He collected the clothes she had discarded beside the bed — Rae was a bit of a slob — on his way to the bathroom and chucked the bundle into the hamper on top of his.
On top of his.
His mind rushed back to last Thursday morning when he’d packed his dirty washing — items he had neatly folded and left on the dresserbeforeclimbing into bed the night before — into his bag.
“Why don’t you just keep some clothes here?” she had said, leaning against the headboard sipping on the coffee he’d brought her after his shower.
Rae also liked lazing about in bed till the very last minute.
“I mean, you eat here, sleep here, shower here, you may as well do your laundry here, too.” She lifted one shoulder, adding with a smile in her voice, “That is, if you want to. You might prefer Bella’s washer to mine.”
Being a sharp-witted man, he’d quickly replied, “I want to. Very much.”
She had set down the mug, cast aside the sheet, hopped to her knees, and shuffled to the bottom of the bed. Naked. “Want to celebrate moving in with me?”
And that was how he’d moved in with a woman he’d met mere days ago.
Fast? For sure. But damn him, it felt right.
He set about getting the coffee going and wandered to the patio door to watch the dog move around the yard, marking his territory.
What would Rae do if I peed a circle around her?
He chuckled at the inane thought and walked out onto the flagstones. He crossed the patio and stepped down onto the grass, the grass damp and springy beneath his feet. Time to clear his head. He moved to the middle of the yard and started a Tai Chi routine, having learned the martial art practice on a dare. And quickly became hooked, finding the benefits of the movements combined with the deep breathing beneficial to his mental health.
Of course, Kismet thought it was a game that included him. After a couple of false starts, Beau banished the hound to the patio with a firm command and, ignoring the sulking dog, he set aside the distraction and settled into the routine.
Beau felt her presence while balancing on his left leg, right knee bent and elevated above his hip and right arm bent, hand in line with his face. He angled his head and his heart stuttered.
Rae sat cross-legged on the flagstones beside Kismet, sipping from the mug in her hand. “Don’t mind me,” she said, a smile ghosting over her lips. “I’m just appreciating the view.”
