My body melts into his, as I eat at his lush mouth, taking my fill. He doesn’t take it further, content right now to kiss me and kiss me. I slide a hand to the warm column of his neck.
“Pickle?”
“Hmm.” He nibbles my lower lip, touches his tongue to the sensitive corner.
“You don’t have to ask to come over every night. Or keep going home to get clothes.”
August pauses and meets my eyes. “I do look good naked. But eventually—”
“I meant, well, you don’t like your house. And we mostly stay here. You could bring your stuff over if—”
The careful expression erupts into a wide smile, and he grabs my hand to press it against his chest. “Penny love, are you asking me to move in with you?”
“Umm . . .”
Brows knit as he gives me a stern look. “Don’t mess with my heart here, Sweets. Tell me that’s what you’re saying.”
Beneath my palm, his heart beats a rapid tattoo. And I know this means as much to him as it does to me. I exhale deeply and press my hand more firmly against him. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying. I miss you when you leave, and I don’t sleep as well. I don’t care if it sounds clingy.”
His eyes light up. “Cling all you want, Penny love. I can take it.”
Before I can say another word, he rolls me over, bracketing my head with his arms, and kisses me until I’m weak and dazed. “I was going to ask the same, you know,” he says against my lips.
It takes me a moment to focus. “Really?”
“I’m gone so much, when I’m home, I wanthometo be where you are.”
“Oh, my.”
“I know.” He gives me a cheeky look. “I would have won major points. But you’ve gone and messed it up by asking me first.” His head shake is dramatically aggrieved.
I brush back his hair. “Somehow I think you’ll survive.”
August answers by kissing me again. Soft, luscious kisses. Like I’m priceless, precious,his.
“We’re going to be so happy here,” he says.
“Just remember who asked first.”
Thirty
Pen
“No, I think you should use that shot.” Monica’s glossy red nail points to the picture I’d taken of the guesthouse from an angle that shows the whole bottom floor bathed in golden November light. “Then these of the pool.”
When we first hung out, she told me to think smarter and use what I have. More easily said than done, but I finally have an idea.
We’re putting together an information packet in my new venture to pull in some extra cash. Last week, August filmed a commercial for a cellular service company and had offhandedly mentioned that they rented a huge house up the coast by the hour for the shot.
I did a little research and was shocked to see how much locations charged—and earned—for a couple hours’ rental. Seeing as I have an idyllic location myself, I’m going to offer the same. Not all over the house, but the grounds and guesthouse are up for rent on a limited schedule. Just enough to cover taxes.
August heard of my plan and offered up his place as well. “Might as well. I’m never there anymore.”
“But it’s your house,” I’d argued.
He’d merely shrugged. “You do the legwork, find the bookings and whatnot. And we’ll split the fee fifty-fifty.”
While I think I’m getting the better part of the deal, Monicahad agreed with August that it was not only fair, but it was also a great idea. His house will earn more than enough to keep me in the black.
