She's quiet for a moment, then her hand comes up to cover mine where it rests on her stomach. “You're nothing like I expected, and yet everything I did at the same time.”
My heart kicks hard behind my ribs. I tighten my hold on her, breathing her in, feeling her heartbeat sync with mine.
The Christmas lights twinkle overhead. The waterfall murmurs its constant song. And Liberty Cruze is safe in my arms, exactly where she belongs.
I feel right for the first time in forever.
“Goodnight, angel,” I whisper.
“Goodnight, my Saint.”
She falls asleep first, her breathing evening out, her body going soft and trusting against mine. I stay awake for more than an hour, memorizing the weight of her, the way she fits, the absolute rightness of this moment.
Tomorrow we'll face whatever comes. Tonight, she's mine to protect.
CHAPTER 21
The pillow beside me is cold, but there's a piece of paper folded on top of it.
Stretching like a cat, I blink sleep from my eyes and reach for the note.
My mind does something complicated when I see Spence's angular handwriting.
Good morning, beautiful. You looked too peaceful to wake. I'm in the gym burning off some energy before I do something reckless like climb back in that bed and keep you there all day. (Tempting, but you deserve breakfast first.) Be back soon with food. Stay put. - S
A ridiculous smile spreads across my face as I clutch the note to my chest like I'm sixteen again.
Except I never got notes like this at sixteen. Never had anyone look at me the way Spence does—like I'm simultaneously precious and edible.
The bed is enormous without him in it, the sheets cool where his body was. I stretch again, feeling delicious where he fingered me last night.
Covering my face, I groan.That happened.
I can’t wait for more.
My phone shows 8:47 AM—later than I usually sleep, but considering we were up past midnight eating and talking, it makes sense.
I slide out of bed, my tank top twisted around my waist, my flannel pants riding low on my hips. The heated floors are warm under my bare feet as I pad to the enormous bathroom.
The room is gorgeous—all natural stone and sleek fixtures, the kind of bathroom you see in design magazines.
The Christmas decorations are burgundy and gold, with crystal accents that look like ice. Lush garland drapes the mirror, coloring the room with it’s fresh green scent.
Wow. I still can’t believe the Christmas present I got this year.
Spencer Saint McCallister.
My grin is mischievous as I turn on the massive rainfall shower, letting the water heat while I brush my teeth.
When steam starts to fill the space, I strip out of my pajamas and step under the spray.
Oh my god. Heaven.
The water pressure is perfect, the temperature is exactly right. I tip my head back, letting it soak my hair, wash away the last remnants of sleep.
My mind wanders as I lather shampoo through my hair. What will happen when my brother does arrive?
Ugh.
