Page 68 of By Your Side
His thumb brushed along my jaw, slow and careful, before he leaned down and kissed me. Soft at first, the kind of kiss that could have ended in a sigh, but deepened when my fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt.
When we finally parted, he rested his forehead against mine. “I should go and let you rest before the girls get home.”
“I don’t want you to,” I admitted.
His smile was warm and a little sad. “I want to stay, too. But I’ve got a car waiting for me at the shop.”
He squeezed my hand once, then lifted it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to my palm. Gently, he closed my fingers around it, like he was asking me to keep it safe until he could give me the next one. I looked down at my closed hand, heart thudding like he’d left a piece of himself there. Then he stepped back and grabbed his jacket. “Promise to text me if anything feels off. About the bar, Eli, any of it.”
“I promise.”
He left, his truck rumbling to life, and I stood in the doorway watching until he turned the corner out of sight.
Inside, the coffee sat cooling on the table, the house too quiet. But the echo of his presence was still here, threaded into the walls, into me.
Chapter 20
Hunter
Ihadn’t made it far before I turned the truck around. Deacon could work on the rebuild without me; he was more than capable. I called him to let him know I was taking the rest of the day off.
“You’re heading back to her, aren’t you?” he said, not even bothering to hide the laugh in his voice.
“Yeah.”
“About damn time, Hunter.”
I ended the call and kept driving, every mile feeling longer than it should. I couldn’t stop picturing her in that kitchen—hair loose, holding herself together with sheer stubbornness, pretending she wasn’t two seconds from breaking or falling asleep on her feet.
Her porch creaked under my boots when I knocked. For a moment, I thought she wouldn’t answer. Then the lock clicked, and she opened the door, surprise flashing in her eyes before it softened into something I couldn’t name.
“Did you forget something?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “This.”
Her breath caught, and before she could think of a reason to stop me, I stepped inside, cupped her face in both hands, and kissed her.
She made a soft, startled sound that went straight through me, then fisted her hands in my jacket and pulled me closer like she’d been waiting for this.
“Hunter,” she whispered when we broke apart, her voice unsteady.
“Tell me to go, and I will,” I said. “But if you want me to stay…”
“I want you to stay.”
I laced my fingers through hers, warm and sure, and led her down the hallway. The house still smelled faintly of coffee. The floorboards groaned under our steps.
Her bedroom was dim, curtains pulled, soft light filtering in just enough to catch the edges of the rumpled quilt. I sat on the edge of the bed, drawing her closer until she stood between my knees. My palms slid up her thighs, over the worn denim of her jeans, before settling at her hips.
I kissed her again, slower this time, tasting her, feeling the little hitch in her breath when my hands moved under her T-shirt. Her cardigan slid from her shoulders, landing somewhere on the floor. My fingers brushed over warm skin, trailing up her sides until she shivered.
“You’re so beautiful.” I searched her face for doubt, smiling when I didn’t see any.
“So are you,” she breathed. “I need you.”
I reached into my wallet, set the condom on the nightstand, and returned to her.
We undressed each other in pieces, like neither of us could bear to stop touching long enough to get the rest of the way there. Her fingers skimmed over my chest, my stomach, leaving trails of fire in their wake. I dragged her jeans down her legs, kissing every new inch of skin, until she was trembling and whispering my name.
