Page 72 of Hats off to Love

“Seems so. A detective has been assigned to the case, and he wants to go over everything with me.” He lets out another sigh, slouching in his chair. “It shouldn’t take too long, but do you mind if we stay here tonight? Feel free to borrow any clothes. What’s mine is yours.” He gives me a small smile. “I’ll take you home in the morning whenever you want, or I can call you a car if you want to go back now.”

“I’ll stay,” I tell him, and relief washes over his handsome face. Standing, I take both of our plates and place them in the kitchen sink. Dinner is done, and I know he needs to go. Following, he pulls me into a hug and lays his lips against my forehead. “I’m glad.”

He wouldn’t do and say these things if this relationship were still fake, would he? It’s real to me; does it feel real to him, too? He said he wasn’t going anywhere, said I don’t need to worry, but I still do. I’m certain we won’t go back to being enemies, but I want to be more. More than fake, more than casual, and definitely more than friends. I want to tell him this. I should have told him the other night; I just have to figure out a way to gather the courage to do so.

“Don’t forget to call Christopher,” I remind him.

He nods but then says, “He can wait. I’ll see him at some point this weekend.”

“Are you going to the office tomorrow?”

“No. I previously scheduled it off so I could be here to help my mother and Grayson.”

I should have known this; he’s always helped the days leading up to the Oaks and the day of the Derby. In fact, everyone helps. It’s all hands on deck. There are fourteen races slotted the day of the Kentucky Derby, and Ace is not the only Whitlock horse who will be running.

“Of course, I knew that. You always help.”

“More like I help by doing my best to not get in their way.” He grins. “I’ll be back, okay?”

“Yep. I’m all set here.” And I am. I plan to fully snoop through all his things while he’s gone.

“Good. I like you here,” he says against my lips as he bends down to kiss me.

Sometime later, after I’ve gone to bed, I feel cool air slide over me and the mattress dips as Stokes slips in. I’m met with his warm skin as he curls around me, and his hand runs over my hip and up under the edge of my shirt. It settles on my stomach, and he lets out a sigh that tells me just how exhausted he is. It isn’t long before his breathing evens out, and I dangerously allow myself to not wonder but imagine that this is my life and my future.

26

Heat.

That’s what wakes me.

Heat, sunlight, and a spicy smell that is so good and familiar. A relaxed exhale escapes me.

Heaven.

That’s what this is.

Did I date a little in college? Yes. Since then, though, I’ve been so busy, and intertwining my life with someone else’s was never the goal. But now, here I am, and I can’t imagine it any differently. Waking up next to Stokes is quite possibly my new favorite thing in the world. It feels like home. He feels like home.

And I can’t decide if that is scary or exciting.

“Morning.” His hand finds my back and rubs up and down. We shifted during the night, and my head is lying on his shoulder, my arm is draped across his stomach, and my leg is wrapped over his.

I stretch and push my body up closer to his, snuggling in.

He chuckles.

“What time is it?” I run my hand up his very flat stomach and over his chest. His hand catches mine, and he holds it over his heart.

“A little after eight.” His voice is different in the mornings when he wakes up. I noticed it the other morning, and I definitely notice it today. It’s rougher, deeper, and one hundred percent sexy.

I pull back to look at him. His face is covered with stubble, his hair is all over the place, and his eyes are a little sleepy. “How did it go last night?”

“Okay. I brought the paper where you wrote everything out and gave it to him. I also told him what I heard on Saturday. He didn’t seem surprised, but what do I know? Detectives have a way of always keeping their face neutral. He wanted to know why we didn’t mention this to someone sooner. I didn’t really have an answer for him.”

“Um, maybe because when someone thinks they’ve come up with a multimillion dollar conspiracy theory, they tend to keep it to themselves versus telling the world they might be a little kooky.”

His lips tip up just a little. “Yeah, you are a little kooky, aren’t you?” He’s teasing me, so I wrap my leg around his just a little more so his is between mine, and I squeeze. Thigh clamp! He laughs while releasing my hand and moving his to my leg. He palms my butt, and my brain short-circuits as his thumb traces the edge of my underwear.