But when the last glass was done, she turned toward him.“I should go up,” she said, suddenly shy, and conflicted.
He leaned back against the counter, arms folded, eyes on her face.“You sound unconvinced.”
“I’m just—” She stopped, blushed.“Trying to be sensible.”
He straightened, closing the space between them slowly, as if giving her time to step away.She didn’t.
“Cat.”Her name was almost a sigh, his voice low, threaded with restraint.
She looked up, and that was all it took—the moment tipped, quiet as a breath.
He reached for her, one hand sliding to the back of her neck, the other resting at her waist, pulling her closer and closer until there was no space between.The kiss came unhurried, warm, deliberate.Not a question, but an answer long overdue.
The kiss was a reminder of the heat and need between them.With his mouth on hers, claiming her, Cat could feel nothing, and want nothing, but him.For now, the world narrowed to pure sensation—the taste of him, the feel of him, the clean scent of him.This, in his arms, was her favorite placed to be.
When Rhys finally drew back, they were both breathing hard, but she had to cling to him, her legs quivery, her veins full of fire and honey.“Do we take this upstairs?”he asked.
She was dizzy and dazed and so not ready to let him go.But would going upstairs together be the right thing?Was this the next most logical step?
“I don’t know,” she whispered honestly.
He kissed her brow and then her nose.“I think that’s all the answer we need.We won’t push this—”
“Does it have to be all or nothing?”she asked.“Can we sleep together but not… um, do everything… together?”
Amusement warmed his eyes.“I think you’re asking can we sleep together tonight but not have sex?”
Her cheeks burned hot.Her body tingled from head to toe.“Pretty much.”
“I think we can do that.My room or yours?”
“My room.Less sick kids in the bed.”
He laughed, kissed her, and pulled her upstairs after him.
*
She slept inhis arms that night—really slept—her body curved into his as if it had always known the shape of him.There was no awkwardness, no hesitation, only the quiet wonder of belonging, of feeling safe and wanted and inexplicably at home.At some point, she woke to find his hand resting at her waist, his breath warm against the back of her neck, and the ease of it all settled deep within her, burrowing into her heart.Being with Rhys wasn’t confusing or complicated.It felt right.It felt like love.
The next time Cat woke it was morning, and she was alone in her bed, but when she slid her hand to the place Rhys had slept, the sheets were still warm.
Cat headed downstairs wrapped in her mother’s cardigan, her hair still damp from the shower.The scent of coffee greeted her first, and then the most delightful sight in the world, Rhys was working away on his laptop on the kitchen counter, sleeves rolled to his forearms, notebook open, beside the mug he’d half-finished.
“Morning,” she said, trying for casual.
“Morning.”His voice was calm, even, but when his gaze slowly traveled over her, she felt as if she was wearing almost nothing and back in bed, pressed against his hard muscular body.And what a body he had.
“How did you sleep?”he asked.
Her heart jumped.“Good.”She swallowed with difficulty.“And you?”
“Very good.”
Again, his gaze swept her, resting briefly on her face, then her neck, breasts, and lower.“I could get used to holding you every night.”
“Maybe we should just have sex and hope it’s bad, really bad, so we can be done with all this chemistry and attraction.”
Rhys grinned, looking sexy and gorgeous without even trying.“Only it wouldn’t be bad,” he said.“It’d be very good, and we’d just want more… all the time.”
