“I don’tlieto her.” She snuggled into him again, playing with the indentations of his ribs. A satisfied sigh bled from his lips. “I just don’t tell her the truth.”
His brows knitted. “I think that’s the definition of lying, Hols.”
“You think you’re so smart.” She was quiet for long moments, still outlining his rib cage, sweeping a finger along thelower line of his pecs. His lids drifted down, his body warm and lazy with a sense of well-being. She shifted, and he sensed her gaze on his face. “ABAC for real?”
“Yeah, ABAC for real. I kinda thought Laurel was the one.” He flexed his hand at her waist. Holly hadn’t been interested in him, and Laurel thought he was cute. They’d dived in fast, and he’d been completely gone over her, thinking about rings and sappy proposal scenarios, while she’d been thinking about some new guy she’d met in her stats class. “I was wrong.”
He wasn’t delving into those memories right now, not with her in his bed, naked and pressed so close sunlight couldn’t get between them. Those memories led to other memories, being drunk and at Andy’s, and that aftermath didn’t belong here with the joy she brought into his life.
“So.” He dragged a fingertip from her hip along the curve of her waist up to the plump sweetness of her breast. “Do I outrank Coach Z?”
She laughed, the surprised one that ended in a snort, the one he loved because it was so damned real. Hands folded on his chest, she propped her chin on them, gaze dancing as she looked at him.
“Hmm, I don’t know.” She brushed a single finger over his nipple. “I mean, one time with you versus three days with him? I might need more source material to make a solid judgment.”
“Yeah?” He sat up and twisted sideways over the edge of the bed, dislodging her. He could handle providing her with that source material. And hell, he’d always been competitive. He’d be so damn good she wouldn’t remember Coach Z’s name.
Not to mention Barlow.
“What are you doing?” Behind him, she sat up.
“Getting my shirt so you can put it back on.” Straightening, he tossed the garment at her. “So I can take it off you.”
Lips plumped into a sultry smirk, she took her time sliding one arm, then the other into the blue cotton. Her hair a shining sheet of rumpled silk about her shoulders, she rose to her knees to fasten four buttons, leaving a deep decolletage.
And he was a tease? By the time she’d finished with her little reverse stripshow, his half-hard dick stirred in interest, renewed desire dragging at his gut. With a foot, he shoved the sheet and duvet to the end of the bed.
“I don’t have three days.” He knelt with her, toyed with the topmost button, flicked it free with a finger. Her breathing shortened, and he grinned, hooking a hand around her nape to pull her close for a long, slow kiss that had her moaning his name into his mouth. Yeah, he could definitely make her forget Barlow. He palmed the left cheek of her ass and tucked her into him, caressing under her hair with his other hand. He caught her upper lip between his. “Let’s see what I can do with all day Sunday.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Admit you only want to date me because I know Louise’s vegetable soup recipe.”
A smirk tugging at her lips, Holly glanced over her shoulder, toward the stove where he stood stirred said soup, sleeves cuffed, white shirt untucked over faded jeans. “Among other considerations.”
His even white teeth flashed in a grin, the lighthearted expression clutching at her heart. Oh, he was serious as ever, but something had loosened between them, maybe even loosened in him, after their conversation Saturday night.
Things had definitely loosened after Sunday morning.
Despite his teasing, they hadn’t spent the day in bed. She’d missed Sunday school, though, and they’d almost been late for church. Afterward, they’d had lunch with her mama. He’d been unbearable, too, giving her a sly grin every time Mama looked away from him. They’d watched a movie, some convoluted mess with subtitles and that Kuwaiti actor he liked from the alien movie, then spent the night in their respective beds because he needed “to be ready for work Monday morning.”
Monday, he’d grilled at her place, but refused to stay the night because he was filling in on route and needed “to be headed out bright and early.”
It was like dating the grown up version of his motivated high-school self, the one with the planner, who wrote everything down and never missed an assignment . . . but also the one who smiled with real joy and looked on the world with real hope.
Ingredients laid out for two trays of oven-baked grilled pimento cheese sandwiches, she studied him, eyeing the play of muscle under the fine cotton of his shirt. “You know I’m going to try and seduce you into my bed tonight.”
“I might let you.” He paused, mid-stir, and shrugged, a rueful tinge to his smile. “Missed you the last couple of nights.”
The admission warmed her, her entire body softening, melting. “I missed you, too.”
He laid his spoon aside and gestured at the island. “Want help with those?”
She passed him the container of pimento cheese. “Of course.”
In tandem, they worked up an assembly line. Holly watched him brush softened butter over the top slices of bread. Oh, she loved this, having him in her space, making this deliberate life with him.
“Where are we going to live? Here or the cabin?” The question burst free before she’d fully realized her brain was forming it. Well, she was in now.
