"Could get something bigger." I watched her face. "Haven't had a reason to."
After dinner, we cleaned up together. She washed, I dried. When the last dish was put away, she turned to me. Her eyes were dark, and I could see her pulse beating in her throat.
She reached up, fingers curling into the front of my shirt, and kissed me.
I pulled her closer. "Lacey—"
"Take me to bed," she whispered against my mouth.
I took her hand and led her down the short hallway. My bedroom was basic—double bed, dresser, photos on the wall. Onthe dresser sat my grandfather's compass—the one he'd carried in Korea. The one thing I'd kept from the ranch besides the photos.
She studied those photos for a moment—me in my Army MP uniform, me with my brothers on the family ranch, me and Judge after his K9 certification.
Then she turned to me and started unbuttoning my shirt. Her fingers were quick, confident. She pushed the fabric off my shoulders, let it fall to the floor.
"Lacey—"
She kissed me, silencing whatever I'd been about to say. Her hands moved to my belt, and I stopped thinking entirely.
We undressed each other between kisses—her sweater, my jeans, her bra, fumbling with zippers and buttons until we were both bare. I backed her toward the bed, and she pulled me down with her.
This was different from Saturday night. Less desperate, more deliberate. We knew each other's bodies now, knew what touch made the other gasp, where to linger.
I kissed my way down her neck, across her collarbone, lower. She arched beneath me when my mouth found her breast, her fingers threading through my hair.
"Gage—"
I took my time moving down her body until she was trembling. When I finally settled between her thighs, she was already close.
She came apart on my tongue.
Then she pulled me up to her, wrapped her legs around my hips, and guided me inside. We moved together slowly at first, finding our rhythm. She rolled us over, straddling me, and I let her set the pace.
The firelight from the other room cast shadows across her skin. She was beautiful like this—confident, strong, taking whatshe wanted. Her hands braced on my chest, hair falling around her face as she moved above me.
I gripped her hips, met her movements, felt the tension building in both of us. When her rhythm faltered and her breathing turned ragged, I knew she was close.
"Let go," I said, and she did—clenching around me, her whole body shuddering.
I followed her over, both of us tangled together.
Afterward, she collapsed against my chest. We lay there catching our breath, her fingers tracing idle patterns on my skin.
Neither of us spoke. We didn't need to.
We fell asleep like that—her in my arms, my hand resting on her hip.
***
Tuesday morning, my alarm went off at five-thirty.
Lacey stirred beside me. "What time is it?"
"Early. Go back to sleep." I kissed her forehead and slid out of bed.
Judge followed me to the kitchen, tags jingling. I started coffee, let him out into the backyard, and filled his bowl with kibble. By the time I'd showered and dressed, Lacey was up, wearing one of my t-shirts, pouring herself coffee. Judge was crunching happily through his breakfast.
"Morning." She wrapped her arms around my waist from behind.
