Page 68 of Accidental Groom
She blinks at me like I’ve just tilted her world sideways.
“You’ve had a long day,” I murmur, brushing her cheeks with my thumbs. “Let me give you a massage instead.”
The grin that spreads across her cheeks, sudden and unashamed andadorable, knocks the air out of me. Thatsmile— god, it’s unfair, open and unguarded like I’ve just hung the moon for her. “Yes, please.”
I take her up to her room, arranging the pillows in a way that feels somewhat correct so that she won’t put pressure on her stomach while she gets undressed. Rummaging through the bedside drawers for oil gets me nothing but a peek at a sex toy that looks like something out of space, and I slip into the bathroom quickly, plucking an oil from the bottom shelf of the medicine cabinet.
She snorts when she climbs onto the pillow mound, just in her underwear, shifting some of them out of the way. “You know I can be on my stomach, right? I’m nowhere near needing to worry about that,” she says, collapsing down on the sheets and resting her head on her forearms.
I throw a knee over her thighs, lowering myself carefully, supporting most of my weight with my heels and ankles. “I genuinely had no idea,” I admit, gently brushing her blonde waves out of the way before oiling up my hands. “In my defense, I’ve been focusing more on getting through the first trimester than worrying about what comes next.”
She breathes out shakily as my hands gently rub along the backs of her shoulders, easy at first. “Yeah, well, we’ve passed that goal post. You’ve got to catch up now,” she grins.
She melts the moment I put a bit more pressure on her muscles, a soft groan leaving her and sending heat straight down my spine.
“Jesus,” she whimpers. “You didn’t tell me you weregoodat this.”
I chuckle, working the back of her neck with my thumbs. “You probably would have begged me from your knees to marry you if I had,” I tease, coaxing out another groan that’s half from what my hands are doing and half an annoyed grumble. “Couldn’t have you debasing yourself even further.”
“You’re an—ah—asshole,” she grunts, but there’s no heat in it.
I lean forward, careful not to put my weight on her, and press a kiss against her cheek. “I know.”
I work in slow circles, easing the tightness in her shoulders, her neck, then slowly moving down her back as we fall into an easy silence. My fingers work the spots that feel like they need it first before moving out, working the places that feelgood, her skin heating as a groan slips out that sounds slightly deeper than just a standard grunt. Her skin’s warm, her breath steady, and I can’t help but want to keep my hands on her.
“There was this place,” she says into the quiet, her voice a little muffled as she turns her head into her arms. “Upstate. Near the Adirondacks. Eighty acres, maybe more, of woods and trails and this stream with little rock pools. Sarah and I used to go there a lot when we were teenagers and needed to get away from our parents. We’d get lost on purpose. Pretend it was—ah—ours.”
I keep my hands moving, my lips pursing as I try to work out where she’s going with this. “What happened to it?” I ask, my knuckles brushing softly across her spine, forcing a little shiver.
“She told me it’s being sold.” Her voice is smaller now, sad in a way I wasn’t expecting. “Development. Apartments, probably. It’s stupid, I know, but it… I don’t know. It feels like something important is dying. It’s just been playing on my mind.”
“That’s not stupid,” I murmur, rubbing at a spot I’d already hit that I knew she liked.
She hums like she doesn’t quite believe me, but doesn’t have the energy to argue it. “I haven’t been in years, anyway,” she says, turning her head a bit to look at me over her shoulder. “I just—I liked knowing it was still there. Like a little piece of my past hadn’t been paved over yet.”
I run my fingers along her sides, just gently, calming. “I’m sorry.”
She shakes her head a little, dislodging some of her hair from where I’d tucked it over her shoulder, and I carefully put it back. “Don’t apologize,” she says. “It’s not your fault.”
“No,” I agree, “but I feel bad that that’s happening.”
We sit in silence a little longer, my hands moving to her arms, her hands, careful with her hips and sides.
“I know it isn’t the same,” I offer, my voice low, “but you’re welcome to claim as many acres as you want of Highcourt land for yourself. As long as you're safe with it.”
She snorts softly. “You mean as long as I have a gun with me?”
My thumbs trace back and forth as I hold her waist. “Something like that.”
The grin she gives me is slow, gentle, her eyes fluttering shut. “I’ll think about it,” she whispers. “Thank you, by the way. For staying.”
I don’t say that she doesn’t have to thank me. I don’t say that I couldn’t have stayed away even if I tried. Instead, I watch the curve of her shoulders, the slow rise and fall of her back with each breath, taking in the trust she’s giving to let me in not just physically but to that little tidbit of information, too. And a growing part of me never wants to leave whatever fragile thing we’ve built right now.
And on top of it all, I can’t seem to shake the one question on repeat in my mind:does she feel the same for me that I do for her?
Chapter 23
Elena
