“Shut down all operations.”
Ruby laughed. After another bite, she asked, “Your parents know you’re here? ‘Cause I spoke to my mom today and she’ll tell them.”
“They know. I plan on driving to Blueshore later this week. Wanna come with?”
“Nah. Saw her and Alan the other day. They already grilled me about the renovations—what happened, who’s doing the work, why you’re here. I gave them the full press release. Besides, I’ve got a mountain of things to do here.” A delicate crease curved just above her lips when she frowned.
I swallowed another piece of shrimp cake. Her mother wasn’t the only one asking. Mine had been treading lightly, but I could feel the curiosity humming under every call. About the inn. About her. About us.
“I’ll see how it goes tomorrow,” I said. “But based on today, I think Dave is toeing the line we drew him. Hopefully, that’ll take some load off you.”
She turned her head to look at me. “It will. Thanks for that.”
“My pleasure.” I bumped my shoulder against hers.
We kept our gazes on each other for another beat, smiling, then went back to eating.
Later, when the leftovers were boxed and the wine bottle low, we carried the containers and plates back to the kitchen.
We moved around each other easily—passing plates, rinsing glasses, brushing close.
When I reached for the towel, she was already holding it out for me.
I dried my hands, then set it down on the counter. She was right there, the curve of her hip grazing mine.
I turned to face her.
She looked up. Her blue eyes became hazy, soft, wanting.
I reached for her waist and pulled her closer.
When I kissed her, she gripped my nape with one hand while fisting my shirt at my chest with the other, pulling me closer.
I pressed her back against the counter and deepened the kiss.
She moaned into my mouth, and her legs tightened around my waist as I lifted her, my hands gripping her thighs.
She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, still kissing me as I walked us across the living room and down the short hall into her bedroom.
I lowered her onto the bed and followed her down.
Her top came off. Then mine. Her bra unclasped and dropped somewhere on the floor. She tugged at my waistband, and I helped her with her slacks.
She lay back, legs opening for me, fitting around me, like we’d done a hundred times. There was nothing rushed about it this time. No armchair, desk, or counter. No quick, heated fuck.
I slid inside her, slow and deep.
Her lips parted on a quiet moan, hands splaying across my back.
I didn’t thrust. Not right away. I just stayed there, buried inside her, forehead resting against hers.
When I lifted my head, her eyes locked with mine, and I kissed her.
I started to move, slow, prolonged. A rhythm just for us. Her body pulled me in, her hands clutched at me when I pushed deeper.
We kept our eyes locked. I let my gaze glide to her lips only when she gasped my name, and her moans became louder, and I knew she was close. She was so beautiful, unraveling beneath me like that.
I kissed her again, one hand slipping under her hips to hold her closer as we both tipped over the edge together.
