Page 59 of Hang the Moon
“I don’t know, Brendon. Maybe?” she whispered. “But I am moving to London, so it doesn’t really matter, does it?”
Maybe.
It mattered to him.
He just needed to show her that it did.
***
Thursday, June 3
Brendon cracked an eye open, blinking into pitch-blackness. The AC unit beneath the window whirred to life, ruffling the gauzy curtains covering the window, a sliver of golden sunlight illuminating a wedge of the hotel room.
The TV had shut off automatically due to inactivity, the black screen making the red lights from the clock below it appear brighter by contrast. Eight fifteen.
He stretched, then stilled when the heavy weight on his chest shifted. Annie had wrapped an arm around his stomach and buried her face against his chest. She hummed sweetly, sighed, and started to snore.
Not a quiet, snuffling snore, but a chain-saw roar that ruffled her hair, her lips quivering with each subsequent breath. The sort of snore that belonged to a man twice her size. A man twice her size who had a deviated septum and smoked a pack a day.
His chest rumbled with quiet laughter.
“Hey, Annie,” he whispered, shaking her shoulder. “Annie.”
Her brow furrowed and she shoved him roughly. “Whatisit. Shutup. ’M sleeping.”
He laughed harder, causing her to rise and fall against his side. Still, she slept on. “Annie, it’s morning.”
She cuddled closer and continued to snore.
“Annie.” He shook her shoulder with a little more gusto.
When she didn’t respond, he sighed. Maybe he should just leave her be, let her sleep a little longer. He’d already emailed his assistant, Tyler, letting him know he’d be taking the day off. Technically, Annie could sleep until noon if she wanted. As long as they made it back before the last ferry of the day shipped out, they’d be fine.
He gave in to the urge he’d repressed all yesterday and brushed the soft wisps of baby-fine hair back from her forehead. His heart thudded hard when she smiled, burrowing closer into his chest. Her whole body went unnaturally still as her snoring stopped. A gasp flew from her mouth and she lifted her head.
Ambient light from the sun peeking in between the curtains bathed half her face in an amber glow, her blue eyes wide and alert. “Oh God. I fell asleep. When did I fall asleep?”
“We both did, at some point. I just woke up.”
She scrubbed a hand over her face and yawned. “I must’ve been really out of it.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Normally I’m not a deep sleeper. I have trouble staying asleep more than a few hours.” She smiled, sleepy and soft. “I must’ve been super comfortable.”
His chest puffed up and he was glad his face was still inshadow so that she couldn’t see the completely involuntary smirk that curved his lips. “Maybe you should fall asleep on top of me more often.”
A sliver of sunlight caught on her pale lashes when she blinked. She gave a sharp laugh, her eyes practically glowing. “Maybe I should. You make a damn good body pillow.” Her tongue swept against her lips. “You’re very solid.”
He stared, enraptured by her mouth. How she was still halfway on top of him. “Solid.”
She nodded, and the hand resting on his chest slipped lower, touching his stomach through his shirt. Her throat clicked and he held his breath. “Firm.”
If she moved her hand any lower, she’d swiftly find out his chest wasn’t the only thing that was hard.
His chuckle came out breathless. “Happy to have been of service.”
She seemed regretful when she removed her hand from his body, her fingers lingering for a moment before she lifted them and scooted away, sitting and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She cleared her throat. “Let me, um, wash up and then whenever you’re ready we can hit the road.”
Annie grabbed her purse and scurried into the bathroom.
Chapter Twelve
