Turning on the piping hot water, I soak a washcloth, add shower gel, and begin scrubbing the grime from his skin. His hand slides over my hip, lingering on my ass. “I thought Sawyer and I weregoing to freeze to death those first few hours.”
“I’ll check on Sawyer next,” I promise.
His fingers brush my cheek tenderly. “I want you in my life forever, Harper. I want you to have my babies.”
“Dustin, I want that too. After we graduate from college.”
He grins against my lips. “I can wait.”
Once Dustin is tucked into bed, I make my way down the hall to Sawyer’s room. “How are you feeling?”
His eyes snap open. “I’m fine.”
I sit on the side of the bed and remove an arm from his blanket. “You’re freezing.”
I run down the hall to my nest, grab a few blankets, and dart back into Sawyer’s room.
“I’ll get you warmed up.” I pile the blankets over his body.
I climb under the blankets and run my arms up and down his skin. “Get some rest, Sawyer.”
His eyelids lower and he falls into a deep slumber.
I spend most of the night moving back and forth between Dustin’s and Sawyer’s bedrooms, tending to their needs.
I’m en route to Dustin’s room when Archer steps out of his bedroom half asleep. “Harper, go to bed,” he orders.
“You need to rest. “I’ll check on the guys.”
I smile as I fall against his chest. “Thank you.”
Around five Wednesday evening, I wake up to a sealed bowl of fresh fruit on ice. A smile lifts the corners of my lips. I know Thatcher left this. So thoughtful.
After my shower, I devour the bowl of fruit. My sock covered feet carry me down the hallway to thank Thatcher. I peek in his room, he’s not there. Sawyer and Archer aren’t in their bedrooms either. Dustin’s probably resting. I’ll grab a couple of bottles of water for us. I head downstairs. The smell of bacon wafts through the air.
“Something smells delicious,” I mutter.
I step into the kitchen and my eyes widen. His inky black hair has been cut closer on the sides and longer on top. A few dark strands hang over one eye.
“Dustin, what are you doing?”
He turns toward me, his chiseled abs fully revealed, jeans slung low on his hips highlighting that flawless V-shape. A dark trail of hair trails down from his navel, vanishing beneath the waistband.
A warm flush gathers deep in my core, moisture slicking over my skin. Damn, I’m already slipping into pre-heat. He’s far too tempting to resist. That’s the heat talking.
He’s injured, Harper.
He smirks. “I’m cooking dinner.”
“You didn’t have to cook. I could’ve cooked.”
“How can I make up for my wrong doings if you cook.”
Arms crossing my chest, I step beside him. “You’re injured. You can go back to proving you’re not an asshole when you’re healed.”
He presses a kiss to my lips. “I’m just about done cooking. If it makes you feel any better, I’m using the air fryer. Cuts down my cooking time.”
“Where is everyone?” I ask moving to his left arm to check his bandage.
