When I make it back to the bed, the light next door is still on.
I make a point to not look at it. Temptation proving stronger than I anticipated, I decide to check on Maise one last time. That way I’m out of line of sight of the window.
Padding across the hall, I push Maisey’s bedroom door open a crack. She’s sound asleep, still tucked in tight.
Perfect.
Sweet dreams, my girl.
En route to my room, I cross the threshold and close my door nearly all the way. Just leaving a few inches open so I can hear Maise.
Yawning, I cross the room to my side of the bed, the window side.
Celeste is still reading, her body relaxed against the headboard, her chest...
Holy shit.
My mouth goes dry instantly.
We may be dozens of feet apart, but there is no mistaking her hand as it travels the rounds of her chest. Her lips part as her head falls back. My shins hit the window seat, hands gripping the window frame as the air in my lungs turns to ash at the sight.
A beat later that same hand disappears into her pajama pants, and I swear I hear the moan through both sets of double-paned glass and across the distance between us.
Every inch of me wakes up as I watch her unravel.
Goddamn it.
Chapter
Nine
CELESTE
So this is my new ‘project.’
The elementary school’s Christmas play. My job is the backdrop artwork. And with just under two weeks until the twenty-fourth and the big show, I’m feeling the pressure. Luckily, I have been assigned someone to help build the set and put in some creative hours to help out.
If only they would turn up.
Apparently, they’re a new family here. The dad was roped into this just as much as I was.
Poor guy is probably procrastinating. I know I was.
“Morning,” a low voice says before clearing his throat.
I spin around and?—
Oh great.
“Good morning,” I say, feigning a happy tone.
Brilliant. The guy who barely tolerates my existence, except for when I’m entertaining his daughter.
Quinton.
“Sorry I’m late, Maise had a?—”
I hold up a hand. “It’s fine. Let’s get to work.”
