Page 119 of Till The Sun Dies (Checkmate 2)

It’s tempting to fast forward the bad times and enjoy only the good, but that’s not the way life is. If we fast forwarded through the hard stuff, twenty minutes after I sit down, I wouldn’t find us sharing a pillow, lying ear to ear, while we try to watch a movie on my cell. And I realize if I want these moments – the bits where her hair tickles my nose and her arm rests against mine, where her feet accidentally bump into mine when she moves, or the peals of laughter when I drop my cell on my face – I can’t have the good if I’m not willing to take the bad.

So I sit with her through the bad and savor the good. I take whatever she has to give and treasure every moment.

When she falls asleep on my pillow, turning into me and tucking her hands between her breasts as her plump lips pop out, I simply watch her instead of my movie.

I watch her lashes flutter.

Her lips quiver.

Her chest rise and fall.

I watch her sleep for a few minutes before remembering how we got into this place – Skeeter, the sketchy fucker. It’s my job to protect her, including from the pervert outside, so I vow not to sleep. Tomorrow I’ll catch up.

Laine will never know that she talks in her sleep. Nothing I can understand, just mumbled sentences, silly grins, but every now and again, I make out a soft ‘Angelo’. She smiles, links her fingers together, and makes my heart to soar when I know she’s dreaming about me.

Good dreams.

Smiling dreams.

Because I was here for the bad, I’m rewarded with a few minutes of stroking her creamy soft cheek while she dreams of me.

It’s a risk. She could wake up and lose her shit, and I’d be squarely to blame for that one, but for right now, I’m lucky.

Tonight, I get to share a bed with the one woman I love, and that’s enough for now.

It has to be.

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