"Morning." I reach out to brush a curl from her cheek. "Sleep okay?"
"Mmm, better than okay." She stretches like a cat, the sheet slipping down to reveal more of that gorgeous skin. "Though I didn't get much actual sleep."
Heat coils low in my gut at the memory. After our first round, we'd eventually made it to dinner, only to end up back in bed for round two. And three. "Complaints?"
"Not a single one." She leans closer, pressing her lips to my chest, right over my heart. "In fact, I could get used to waking up like this."
The casual comment makes me happier than it should. It sounds like she's thinking about more than just a temporary fling. Like maybe she's considering sticking around. And the thought of Sandra staying, of waking up to her smile every morning, doesn't scare me as much as it should.
"Yeah?" I trace the curve of her spine with my fingertips. "What happened to no labels, no planning for the future?"
She props her chin on my chest, looking up at me with those warm brown eyes. "Maybe I'm revising my position." Her expression turns more serious. "Being with you, it feels right, Diesel. In a way nothing has in a very long time."
I swallow, fighting the urge to deflect with a joke or change the subject. This matters. She matters. "For me too," I admit finally. "It's not what I was looking for, but..."
"But here we are," she finishes, smiling again.
"Here we are," I agree, pulling her up for a kiss that quickly deepens, her body sliding over mine in a way that makes my blood run hot.
We take our time, exploring each other with newfound familiarity, learning what makes the other gasp and moan. When she sinks down onto me, taking me deep inside her, I cup her face in my hands, needing to see her expression, to connect beyond just the physical pleasure.
"You're beautiful," I tell her, the words slipping out before I can filter them. "So fucking beautiful."
Her rhythm falters at my words, emotion flashing across her face. She leans down, capturing my mouth in a kiss that feels like a promise as she continues to move above me.
We build toward release together, her body tightening around mine as she comes with my name on her lips. I follow immediately after, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.
Afterward, she collapses against my chest, both of us breathing hard. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close, reluctant to let this moment end.
"I could get used to this too," I confess quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
She lifts her face, surprise and happiness mingling in her expression. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." I brush my thumb over her cheekbone. "I'm not good with words, Sandra. Not good at expressing... this. But I want you to know that it means something to me. You mean something."
Her eyes shine with unshed tears. "You mean something to me too, Diesel. More than I expected." She kisses me softly. "And for the record, I think you're doing just fine with the words."
We shower together, which leads to another round up against the tile wall, water cascading over us as I lift her, her legs wrapped around my waist, my name echoing off the bathroom walls as she comes.
Over breakfast—eggs and bacon that I cook while she perches on the counter, stealing kisses between sips of coffee—we talk about plans for the day.
"I should probably check on Grandpa's cabin," she says, stealing a piece of bacon from my plate. "I've been in town over a week and still haven't seen it."
"Want company?" I offer, surprising myself. "I can take the day off. Marcus can handle the garage."
Her face lights up. "Really? You'd do that?"
I shrug, trying to play it cool despite the warmth spreading through my chest at her reaction. "Like I said, I helped your grandfather with some repairs last year. I know where the place is, what to look for."
"I'd love that." She hops off the counter to hug me, pressing her body against mine. "Thank you."
After breakfast, I call Marcus to let him know I won't be in today. He's annoyingly smug about it, but I can't bring myself to care. A day with Sandra away from the garage sounds perfect.
I lend her one of my flannels to wear over her dress from last night, and the sight of her in my clothes does funny things to my insides. She looks like she belongs here, in my kitchen, in my life.
We take my truck, Sandra's hand resting on my thigh as I drive, occasionally squeezing or tracing patterns that make it hard to focus on the road. The cabin is about twenty minutes outside town, nestled among pines with a view of the valley.
"Oh," Sandra breathes as the cabin comes into view. "It's beautiful."
