“Miriam.” The name burns along my lips. “What if she’s been reading them? What if she’s been—she protected me, Valen. So many times. You too. But when faced with the facts, she’s the only name I can think of. She’s the only one who knew I’d be writing letters. So why would she do this to us now?”
Even as the words leave my mouth, something nags at me. The poems weren’t Miriam’s style. They were too…emotional. Too intimate. Miriam was kind, but she dealt in facts and reality, not whimsical fantasies about love.
“I have no memories of her, Honeybee. But if it is her, we’ll deal with it,” he says firmly. “And Clover?” He cups my face, his lips only inches from mine. “Regardless of who it is, I won’t allow them to hurt either of us anymore.”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
“Come on,” he says, helping me to stand. “Let’s get back to the inn. Randi mentioned something about fresh cider.”
My heart pinches in my chest. I may have left Happiness in the rearview, but maybe happiness is finally trying to find me.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CLOVER
The room is dark when we enter, lit only by a streetlamp outside, and Valen is quick to turn on the light for me.
Dancing around each other in the tiny room makes brushing our teeth an overly intimate affair.
He grins at me in the mirror, where my toothbrush is jammed against my gums and my long hair is piled on top of my head. I’m disheveled at best, but he’s staring at me as though he might strip me bare right here.
And cue the horrid blush that rolls over my skin as a metric ton of dirty thoughts filter through my mind.
He lowers his head to the sink and spits toothpaste foam before wiping the corners of his mouth, turning sideways, and pressing himself against my body as he leaves the room, taking all the heat with him.
As soon as he’s out of sight, I smell my pits—could definitely use a touch-up—and run a hand over my legs—scratchy, but not alarming—then wipe away the smudge of mascara that’s giving me raccoon eyes.
Oh my God. I’m prep sexing? Sex prepping? Am I going to have sex? With Valen?
I release a breath that sounds eerily like a seal, lower my eyes so I can’t see myself blush, and count backward from a hundred.
Obviously, I’m getting ahead of myself here.
He hasn’t really given me any signs. Not like,come here, Clover, and jump on my cock-stick. That would be one hell of a sign, though, huh?
Also, is cock-stick a thing? I snort a laugh under my breath.Cock-stickis going in a book.
“Clover?”
I jolt and whack my knee against the counter. Yup, I’m hyperventilating.
Emerging from the bathroom, I have no chance of avoiding him because he’s changed up his side of the bed again. He’s chosen the side closest to the door, just like last time.
“Are you okay?” He’s wearing a grin that has me instantly staring at my toes. Jesus, who was it who flew too close to the sun? That’s me, and Valen’s the sun.
Too hot. Too blinding. Too everything.
“Yup,” I chirp like a freaking bird, then climb in beside him. He immediately pulls me close. My back to his chest. His arm around my waist. My head on his bicep, and I relax into his strong hold.
“Comfortable?” he asks.
“Mm-hmm.” The truth is, I don’t think I’ve ever been more comfortable, more confident, more…me. But worms of doubt are still burrowing in. “I thought you were worried about my…honor. Propriety?”
He grunts, and his cock twitches against my ass.
“My reasoning skills are subpar at best when you’re close, Honeybee.”
That lights up my entire body with warmth that feels like a hug.
