Page 66 of Lucky Haven

“No, Haven—” He falls back against the pillows as I ignore him and keep searching for his cock.”Don’t touch me, I’m going to blow.”

“But I just want to… Please, Cash⁠—”

“Fuck.” His eyes roll back in his head as he snaps his hips, fisting the blanket beneath him.

“Did you just come?”

“Yes,” he grinds out. “I should have told you not to say my name, either.”

I stare at him.

He humps the air, groaning again, then gives me the laziest, sexiest smile I’ve ever seen on a man. “I’m not complaining, I promise. That was fucking hot as hell. Fucking came like a virgin.”

“Me, too,” I whisper.

He laughs and hauls me on top of him, kissing me until I’m laughing, too.

Chapter Nineteen

Cash

The next morning, Haven readies herself for work way earlier than she needs to, because I need to get into town to open the garage. It’s something to see her sharing coffee with Zane, him dressed for a day mucking out the barns, her in a sundress, her pretty painted toes peeping out of retro sandals.

“Ready to go?” she asks me as I take her coffee cup and swallow a big sip before refilling it for her.

“We’ve got time for you to finish your coffee.”

She lifts her face and gives me a private smile. “Our coffee?”

Fuck. Yes.

“I’ll get Riley to open tomorrow so we don’t have to go in so early,” I murmur when Zane busies himself with taking bacon out of the oven.

“I don’t mind.”

She’s so sweet to me as I upend her entire life. “I do. I want you to be comfortable. Do you drive?”

She doesn’t own a car.

She laughs behind the coffee mug. “Yes, I drive. What, are you going to let me take your big truck?”

I would.

But I have a better idea. I have a small SUV I bought off a customer last February. Solid bones, new tires. It needed some cosmetic work that I’ve since done. I’ve been meaning to flip it, but didn’t get around to listing it.

Won’t be listing it now.

I don’t tell her about it until the end of the day.

I have it waiting out front when she comes across the street, her bag over her shoulder, shading her eyes against the afternoon sun.

“What’s this?” she asks when I hold out the keys.

“Your new wheels.”

She stares at the keys. Then at the car. Finally, at me. “No.”

“It costs me nothing. As much as I like ferrying you back and forth from the ranch, I don’t want you to have to get out the door earlier than you need to. And I’m not always across the street. I like the idea of you always having a vehicle at the ready.”