But he just says, in a sleepy voice, “What’s this called?”
Then his hand drifts down to my ass, and he curves his palm over my cheek, stroking the spot where my ass meets the top of my leg. “Underbutt? Butt fold? Daisy Dukes?”
I chuckle. “Underbutt.”
He squeezes mine. “I like your underbutt.”
Yeah, it’s a real good thing I went into tonight with my eyeswide open. My eyes flutter closed now though, as I snuggle against him. “I guess our one-time thing was a two-time thing,” I say.
Another kiss. Another smile, then his words: “Another reason you’re perfect.”
I don’t want more. Truly, I don’t. So I should be happy he’s on the same page. And I am.
I really am.
Even though he’s right. I do like him. And with that fizzy feeling swirling around me, I drift off to sleep.
* * *
The sun beams through a sliver of the hotel curtains as my eyes flicker open. It’s so nice and warm here in bed, under the soft, fluffy covers with…Is that Sawyer’s arm wrapped around my belly?
I glance down.
His big hand rests against me. His other arm is under me and roped around my chest, and his face is burrowed in my neck.
Holy smokes, this man is not just a cuddler. He’s a cuddle monster. He’s smashed against me, holding me close, and breathing deeply.
A soft sigh follows, then a mumble that sounds like my name. A barely audible, early-morning, “Chloe.”
It’s said like an answered prayer.
I smile as he sleeps. If our situations were different…If we both weren’t so raw and tender…If I didn’t need to get my act together…
I indulge in the warm comfort of his arms for another minute,then with some reluctance, I slip out of bed, pad to the bathroom, and brush my teeth. After I take care of business, wash my face, and freshen up, I return to the room. He’s still snoozing.
It’s sweet, really.
He must need it.
But I need to go. I have a dog training session back in Darling Springs, so I pull on my now-dry underwear from yesterday, along with my bra and the sundress he bought me. I grab the bag with my sneakers—still damp—and my other clothes.
He rustles, flipping to his stomach, one strong arm sticking straight out, hand reaching, seeking.
Is he…looking for me?
My heart speeds up stupidly. I half want to head over to him, move in close, and whisper,I’m still here.
But I don’t know the man. He might be an asshole in the mornings. Many are. I doubt he is though. He’s surly, but always a gentleman. I can just tell. It’s the Pisces in me. At least he didn’t behead me though. With that small victory, I pad quietly to the nightstand and grab my Coach clutch and my phone. The battery’s low, but there’s enough.
He still doesn’t move.
So be it.
“Thanks, Sawyer,” I whisper.
A sigh falls from those sexy lips, and his beard is just a touch thicker than it was when I met him yesterday. But he slumbers more. He must need it after the day he had, and the night we enjoyed. I turn around, my heart tugging with a surprising wistfulness, andhead to the door, passing the bureau along the way. A notepad winks at me. I stop. Think.
Then, I go for it.
