Page 112 of That Moment
Her hips roll back to meet mine, and I grip her tighter, guiding her through the rhythm. The sound of water hitting the floor mixes with the quiet, broken noises coming from her throat.
When she starts to shake, I reach between us, rubbing her clit in slow circles until she’s coming apart in my arms, her back arching against my chest. I follow a heartbeat later, a low groan spilling from my chest as I push deep one last time.
We stand there, breathing heavy, the water washing over us. I rest my forehead between her shoulder blades, hands tracing idle lines across her stomach.
“Morning,” I murmur.
She laughs softly. “That’s one way to say good morning.”
I kiss her shoulder. “Best alarm I’ve ever had.”
Eventually, we step out, toweling off in silence. I pull on a pair of jeans, she slips into one of my shirts, and for a second I just watch her—bare legs, damp hair, moving around my space like she belongs here.
She catches me staring. “What?”
“Just… you.” I grin. “You look too damn good in my shirt.”
Her cheeks flush. “You say that like you’re surprised.”
I chuckle, reaching for the jeans I left on the floor last night, and grab the locket. In all of the excitement last night, I completely forgot to give it to her. “Coffee?”
“Please.”
We walk into the kitchen, and I pour us each a cup, handing it to her. “Mmm,” she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, “much needed this morning after last night.”
“Worth it?”
She nods enthusiastically while she swallows another gulp of coffee. “Very.”
“Good.” I hold out the little velvet envelope that Nate put the necklace in when he gave it back to me. “Got something for you.”
She turns, eyebrows lifting. “What’s this?”
“Open it.”
Her fingers tremble when she flips the tab on the pouch. The moment she sees what’s inside, she freezes.
“Oh my God…” She looks up at me, then back into the pouch, reaching inside to pull it out. “Scotty, where?” The locket glints in the morning light, delicate chain perfectly repaired.
“I found it in the Mustang,” I tell her. “It was broken, the clasp wouldn’t connect right. I took it to Nate Palmer the other day, and he fixed it up good as new.”
Her eyes are glassy. “I thought I lost this when I was twenty-one. I looked everywhere. I wore it that morning, but it was gone before I even made it out of the car.”
“I figured it might mean something.”
“It does.” Her voice cracks. She brushes her thumb over the tiny clasp. “It really does. My dad gave it to me on my seventh birthday.” She laughs, like she’s recalling the day it happened. “He said that I would always be his little girl, even when Ibecame a beautiful woman just like mom. She turns her back to me. “Will you?”
“Yeah.” I step closer, lift the chain, and fasten it around her neck. The cool silver rests just above her collarbone. I glance at our reflection in the window. She lifts her hand and touches the locket softly.
“Thank you so much for finding it.”
“Looks right on you,” I murmur, fingers brushing her skin.
She turns, eyes meeting mine. “And for getting it fixed and cleaned. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.”
If I were a betting man, I’d say the look she’s giving me right now is about as close as you can get to sayingI love you, with your eyes. She rises onto her toes and kisses me, slow and warm. When she finally pulls back, her voice is soft. “Thank you.”
