Her cheeks flush that perfect shade of pink. She bites her lip, fighting a smile. “It was supposed to be one night. A really incredible, life-altering night, but—”
“No.” I spin her around gently but firmly, pressing her front against the cool wood of the door. My hand comes down on her bare ass in a sharp, playful smack. The sound cracks through the cabin.
“Simon!” she yelps, but there’s laughter bubbling in her voice.
I smack the other cheek, then rub the sting away with my palm, leaning in to nip at the shell of her ear.
“You try to sneak out on me again and I’ll tie you to my bed, butterfly. I’ll happily keep you locked in this cabin until you admit you’re staying in Crescent Ridge. With me.”
Another light spank lands, more tease than real punishment. She pushes back against my hand, wiggling that perfect ass like she’s enjoying every second. Fuck. I’m getting hard again just from the feel of her.
I rest my forehead against her shoulder, breathing her in.
“I’m becoming a territorial asshole and it’s all your fault,” I mutter, half-horrified at myself. “One day with you and I’m ready to bolt the doors and throw away the key.”
She laughs softly, the sound warm and bright in my cabin.
“It’s stupidly hot, if I’m being honest.”
I groan and turn her back around, pulling her into my arms. Her soft curves melt against my bare chest as I kiss her slow and deep, tasting sleep and mischief on her tongue. My hands slide down to cup her ass, holding her close.
When I finally pull back, I rest my forehead against hers.
“Stay. At least for breakfast. Please.”
She nods, eyes sparkling.
“Okay. But only because your arguments are very hands-on.”
We end up in my kitchen. Me in gray sweatpants, with her still wearing my T-shirt and nothing else, and we’re making brownies because chocolate feels like the right move after almost losing her yesterday.
I mix the batter and she licks the spoon after, humming happily. Every few seconds I glance over to make sure she’s still here. She catches me staring and rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning.
A knock sounds on the front door.
I open it to find Shawn, Gloria, and Quincy standing on my porch, looking far too amused. Shawn’s holding a tray of coffees. Quincy’s got a bag from the bakery.
“Heard our girl survived the night,” Quincy says, peering past me toward Clover in the kitchen.
Gloria snorts.
“And by the looks of it, Simon’s still in full guard-dog mode.”
I rub the back of my neck, feeling ridiculous. These people have known me for years. I’ve never been the guy who falls this hard, this fast.
Clover’s feet thump softly against the hardwood floors as she disappears into the bedroom. A few minutes later she comes out fully dressed with a shirt for me and we all crowd into the cabin. While Clover chats with Gloria about her hospital follow-up, I watch her move around my kitchen like she already belongs here. Laughing. Comfortable. At home.
Shawn claps me on the shoulder.
“Never seen you like this, Fitz.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, keeping my voice low. “None of you had to basically kidnap your wives to get them to stay in town, did you?”
“Well, I didn’t,” Shawn says. “But rumor has it that Cade did something similar.”
Gloria says something that makes Clover gasp and then giggle.
She buries her face in her hands, but she’s laughing, that bright, joyful sound that hooked me from the start.
