Page 153 of The Lumberjack and the City Slicker

Then I move toward the bed.

I step out of my boots. Peel off my flannel. Drop my jeans without a sound. Take off my socks.

Not for seduction—though God knows I want her—but because I need to feel her skin against mine.

I slide under the covers.

She stirs immediately.

When I wrap my arms around her, she hums softly in her sleep and sinks back against me like she was waiting for it.

Relief floods through me.

Holding her?

It’s everything.

A few minutes later she blinks awake slowly, lashes fluttering, those green-gold eyes focusing on my face.

“Greyson?” she murmurs. “How’d you get in here?”

“The window.”

Her brow furrows faintly. “Why?”

“Because I needed to tell you something,” I say quietly. “And I needed to do it in person.”

She studies me, then glances down.

“Mmm. Did you need to do it half naked?” she teases, lips curving.

Even half-asleep, she steals my breath.

“Yeah, Trouble,” I murmur. “I needed to feel you against my skin when I do this. Fuck, I guess it can wait another minute.”

Then, I kiss her.

Slow at first.

Careful.

And when she kisses me back, no hesitation, no wall between us—I almost come undone.

She tastes like sleep and warmth and something uniquely hers.

Wildflowers. Spring rain.

I deepen the kiss, my hand sliding along her waist, feeling the steady rhythm of her breath.

My body reacts immediately.

But this isn’t about that.

Not yet.

I pull back just enough to look at her.

She’s watching me now, fully awake.