He cuts me off with a demanding kiss.
The last thought that goes through my mind before he scoops me up in his arms isn’tI should get the hell out of here; it’sfinally, I’m back home with my cowboy.
“We’re back on the ground.”
“We are,” I mumble into Bellamy’s soft skin. We had sex twice more after our post-breakfast romp. Now we lay in a boneless and tangled heap on the rug in front of the fire.
I never want this to end. Never want her to leave my arms again.
She burrows deeper against me, her dark hair a wild halo around us.
Lazily, I trace a line up her arm. Kiss the scar on her bicep where she jumped out of a tree as a kid and impaled herself with a branch.
Outside, the sun is bright, the light blasting through the cabin windows. Like the blizzard never happened. In truth, I thank my goddamn lucky stars for that blizzard. It brought me closer to Bellamy.
There’s still so much we haven’t said. Words, explanations I need. But for now, this is enough. We have three more days to broach the rest.
With a small sigh, she lifts her dark head. The rest of her remains hidden beneath the blanket. “Cowboy, I think you made me sorer than the tree did.”
“And I’m thinkin’ you’re more beautiful than I remember, Bell.” With her puffy pink lips and glazed well-fucked eyes, looking away is impossible.
A blush creeps into her cheeks, making her even prettier. “You’ve always been a charmer, Hank Blue.”
I shift, tracing her candy-apple cheek with my thumb. Study every detail of her perfect face. Those big brown eyes and soft voice melt my insides. This is Bellamy in all her beauty. “Been too damn long, if I say so myself.”
“With who?” Amusement laces her voice. “Your ex-wife?”
“No. With anyone.”
“Hank.” She searches my expression with careful eyes, her small hand frozen on my chest. “You haven’t been with anyone else?”
“Nah, sugar. I haven’t.” I chance a question that could kill me, unease seeping in. “What about you?”
She clears her throat, never looking away. “No.”
Warmth blooms in my chest, a pleased sound rumbling out of me. It’s what I fucking thought. She doesn’t want anyone else either. We share a bond that can’t be measured. We’ll always come back to us, no matter how long it’s been.
What would she say if she knew I still consider her my wife? Still consider her mine. Would she laugh? Squirm? Maybe try to leave? If she did, she wouldn’t get far. Not this time.
She opens her mouth to respond, but she’s cut off when Zelda bounds happily over the heap of blankets. She laughs as the dog licks her face in greeting, then she pulls her down into the blankets with her to rub her tummy.
Love, lust roar through me.
Goddamn, how has it been three years? There’s not a chance in hell I lose her again. The earth could open up and drag her down, and I’d launch myself after her.
But I have to go slow. Hold myself together. If I rush or push, I’ll scare her.
She sits up, the blanket barely covering her. Stretching out her arms, she lets out a big yawn. “We should probably make ourselves useful today.”
I groan. Back to reality. Going out on the ranch is the last thing I want to do. I’d rather stay here with her.
With my hand on the curve of her back, I yank her to me. “What’re you gonna do?”
“I can paint while you’re out.” Brows pinched, she worries her lip between her teeth. “Not that it’ll be any good.”
“Sugar, what are you talkin’ about?” I run a hand up her smooth thigh.
“Nothing.” She looks away, effectively ending the conversation, and zeroes in on the tree in the corner of the room. “I could decorate the tree. It’s almost Christmas.”
