“No, it’s true. If I play along, I’ll have to be a snow devil to match the horns I’ve earned over the years. I amnoangel.”
Betzy held his gaze, a wistful look in her eyes. “Well, then you’ve had me fooled.”
He cleared his throat, dropped his gaze back to the massage, where he pressed circles along the balls of her foot. “I really like being here with you,” he admitted. When she didn’t reply right away he added to it. “And your whole family too. You’ve got a pretty incredible group.”
Betzy sighed. “I think so too. I’m really glad Matthew’s daughter brought the kids up. They’re adorable, aren’t they?”
“Oh, yeah. I always knew I’d have kids of my own, but I pictured being an uncle too. You know, where I get to goof off with the kid, show him a good time, then send him home with their mom or dad. Kind of like my Uncle Ryan was with me.”
“I’d love to be an aunt,” Betzy said. “With those guys, it feels like I already am in a way. I wonder how long Camila and James will wait to have kids.”
“It’s lucky that you have such a large family,” Sawyer said. “I always wanted that.” He switched feet and repeated the motion on her other foot. It grew quiet, save Betzy’s occasional whine of approval as Sawyer moved from the bottom to the top of her foot.
“You’re very good at this,” she praised. “Want me to do yours next?”
Sawyer shook his head.
“Then maybe you can join me down here,” she suggested, giving the rug a pat.
What was this? She was trying to step out of her comfort zone, was she?
“Okay,” he agreed. Sawyer moved from the mantel to his knees and made his way to her side. He grunted as he lay flat on the plush rug beside her. “Let’s spoon,” he said, matching the bend in her knees, the curve of her back. A stack of decorative pillows lay nearby. He snatched a thin looking one, propped it beneath his head and hers, and wrapped an arm around her waist.
She felt more delicate than he’d imagined, and oh, so warm. The heat from the fireplace had warmed his back well, but the sensation that ran through Sawyer at the feel of Betzy in his arms was in a class of its own.
That sweet but subtle scent of her toyed with him as he pulled in a breath. May as well drink it in.
With that thought, Sawyer tucked his face into the nook of her neck and sighed. “This feels good,” he said. And it did. Having her close, wrapped snug in his arms, he couldn’t imagine anything better. Here, she was safe. Protected. Loved.
An ache tore through him at the near desperation he felt to play that role. To be that man in her life.
Betzy wiggled slightly beneath his touch. “Your breath tickles,” she said softly.
Sawyer lifted a brow. Then moved in so that his lips were grazing her warm, silky skin. “It does, does it?” he crooned in a low voice.
“Yes, mmm.” The seductive sound, caught between a sigh and whimper, put fire in his belly once more. “Say something else,” she urged.
The energy shifted from playful to passionate in a hot blink. How many times had he imagined pressing kisses to her throat? Moving his way up to those pouty lips?
Ever so softly, Sawyer barely grazed the silky slope of her neck with his lips. “Like this?” he asked, hoping she felt even a fraction of the sensations rushing through him.
Betzy didn’t answer with words this time. Instead, she reached up, fisted the auburn hair draped over her shoulder, and moved it behind her back; an action that exposed the full, delicate curve of her neck.
Sawyer wasted no time moving in once more. With his lips slightly parted, just a millimeter from her skin, he trailed a slow path up toward her earlobe, his heated breath teasing along the way.
“Betzy,” he said, voice low and raspy, his mouth barely grazing her skin.
The action seemed to spark something in her, because suddenly she shrugged onto her back and moved until they were face to face.
Warm, colorful firelight lit her expression as she looked at him, breath jagged, before dropping her gaze to his mouth.
With the urgency of ten years pushing him on, Sawyer closed the gap between them and pressed his lips to hers in a long, fervent kiss.
So good.
He took the next one slower, lingering as he savored each sensation.
The blessed heat of her breath.
