Page 37 of Flirting With Forever
And despite his plans to keep his distance and hands to himself, he’d broken down and cuddled her close once more. And sometime during the night, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to let her go.
Knowing the reason why she was so afraid had every part of him wanting to do what he could to comfort her. To protect her from the reappearance of that pain.
He found himself mentally shaking his head that after such a short amount of time, it was getting harder to keep his distance. From not wanting to hear her voice on the other end of a call, see her little smiley faces at the end of the notes in the calendar. This wasn’t like him. He’d never wanted those sorts of things. Or at least he hadn’t before. But now he found himself looking forward to the next time he could see her. Talk to her. Touch her.
Images from last night filtered through his tired mind as he slowly woke up. He’d held her for hours. Murmured reassurances when something banged against the side of the house or roof. Forced her up and carried her into the area beneath the stairwell after dragging the mattress from her bed along with the pillows when tornado watches turned to warnings and the house shuddered with the force of the winds.
The eye of the hurricane arrived around two in the morning. Up until then, the Blackwell family group chat had stayed active, with Hudson being the only one missing.
Isla’s billionaire boss had evacuated his family and employees to New York since he had a home and business there anyway, but Isla sat up with them from there, unable to sleep knowing what they faced.
Usually, Hudson popped off with some snarky comments throughout the night to keep them laughing, and they’d all mentioned his name more than once, praying he was okay doing whatever he was doing with the fire department.
Brooks had an emergency scanner and listened in, informing the rest of them of where the fire crews were dispatched. There was no mention of Hudson by name, but at least they were able to place his whereabouts on the island.
Once the eye arrived and things calmed a bit, they’d gotten some much needed sleep under the stairs. He got up regularly to take a look outside and tossed down some towels and blankets at the base of the door to soak up the water leaking beneath, despite the sandbags outside.
Then he’d gone back to his side of their makeshift bed, determined to keep his distance. But in her exhausted sleep, Sloane had curled into him naturally. He hadn’t been able to resist holding her, telling himself she came to him and not the other way around.
She fit against him perfectly, and his mind repeatedly returned to that moment upstairs when they’d almost kissed. When she’d looked as though she’d wanted him to kiss her.
He wished now he hadn’t pulled away. Hadn’t kept it professional. Wished he had kissed her senseless because some things were blink-and-you-miss-it chances not taken and regretted later.
Right now? It was later. And he regretted not taking that moment.
Sloane shifted, and the scent of her hair filled his senses, the curly strands catching on the scrub on his chin. He bit back a groan and imagined tangling his fingers in those wild curls, using them to tilt her head back and?—
“Is it over? Did we survive?”
His lips quirked at the questions and the timing, and despite his promise to Cole and Alec to keep things professional between them, his grip tightened around her because he wanted to savor these last few seconds. “I don’t know, Merida. This kinda feels like heaven to me.”
He felt her indrawn breath before her lips curled in a smile against him, a sign that he wasn’t alone in whatever was happening between them. Better still, she didn’t pull away.
No, she slid an arm up his chest toward his neck, her fingers finding his skin above the hem of his T-shirt, skimming her fingertips along the edge in a quick-fire touch before she used him as a prop to push herself upright with only a slight wince.
“You do make a good pillow,” she murmured in a sleep-husky voice as she removed the hand from his chest to rub her face and push her hair back.
He shoved up on an elbow, and the move put them in close proximity once again.
Sloane blinked as though only then realizing just how close they were, and despite morning breath and exhaustion, he hoped she’d take full advantage. To take the chance he’d let slip by.
He locked his gaze on hers and fought back the surge of pleasure he felt when her pupils flared and her gorgeous green eyes took on a hazy look that had nothing to do with lack of sleep.
Come on, baby girl.
Gazes locked, body heat mingling, they stayed that way. So close and yet?—
“I should— Um, I should probably— What time is it?” She glanced toward the edge of the mattress.
Disappointment nearly choked him. “Almost seven.”
The interior was dark, the window above the door shuttered, giving the space an intimate feel. He’d left the battery-lantern on low, so he was able to see the moment her hesitation turned to resolve, and she shook off the chemistry stirring between them with a blink and hard swallow.
“Merida….”
She squeezed her eyes shut like if she couldn’t see him, she wouldn’t have to acknowledge him. Or them.
“I don’t do casual. And I won’t be here long enough to be more. A few more days and…I’m gone.”
