Page 62 of A Love Like Candle Light

Our kiss at the autumn fair, the campfire, him sleeping over, and now he's still here. All calm breaths, his arm heavy on my side, and so nice and warm. I take a deep breath. There's still a hint of campfire smoke on him, even though I lent him one of my oversized shirts to sleep in.

Suddenly he stirs. Oh damn, what do I do now? Pretend to sleep? What if he wakes up and regrets it? Maybe it was only a heat-of-the-moment thing, and he was only too tipsy to drive back home. Yes, I’ll pretend I’m asleep and if he wants to sneak out we’ll never talk about yesterday again.

For a moment, his arm around me tenses.

Fuck, I knew it. It was too good to be true.

But then he lets out a soft sigh and relaxes again. I hold my breath. He lets out a barely audible hum from the back of his throat, and keeps still. One breath, two, then his fingers run through my hair.

“I can tell you're awake, you know?” he mumbles, voice hoarse from sleep, and oh my, just when I didn't think he could sound any sexier, I stand corrected.

“No, you can't,” I mumble and stubbornly keep my eyes closed. If I don't open them, it means he won't get up, right?

“I so can.”

Before I know what’s happening, my entire world turns. Literally. He pulls me on top of him and I squeak with surprise.

Okay. I thought the position I woke up in was perfect, I stand corrected once more. I put my palms on his chest and rest my chin on the back of my hands. His hands are a nice, warm weight on the small of my back.

“Do you have to work today?” He glances to our left at my alarm clock. “I'm on call from noon on.” Erik lets out a deep, content sigh. “We still have plenty of time. I'm not ready to get up yet.”

The admission sends a surge of heat right to my face. His thumb strokes my lower back, and it's doing all kinds of things to me.

“I don't think I ever want to get up,” I mumble against his shirt. My shirt. I will so wear it to sleep tonight.

Right then, my stomach growls. What a traitor.

“Come on.” Erik nudges my hip. “You go out with Abby for five minutes, and I'll have breakfast ready by the time you're back. Sound like a plan?”

“Yeah.” I stare at him. He's sleeping over, cuddling me, and now he's making me breakfast?

Too good to be true.

“If you keep looking at me like that, we're not going to make it out of bed,” Erik rasps, and brushes a strand of my matted hair behind my ear, tearing me right out of my potential thought-spiral.

“The horror,” I say deadpan. Only for my stomach to growl again.

“Come on.” Erik laughs and gently pushes me off.

It's weird, yet almost infuriatingly exciting, to watch Erik in my space. By the time Abby and I are back, he's setting the table and the scent of bacon is in the air, which both Abby and I are thrilled about.

“Hope you don't mind I raided your fridge.” He hands me a cup of coffee. Splash of milk. It’s almost eerie how much he notices.

I set it on my kitchen counter and throw my arms around him instead. The bacon can wait another minute.

“You can raid my fridge all you want.” I glance up at him, chin digging into his collarbone.

He gets the hint and cups my face, leans down and captures my lips in a kiss that leaves me breathless and the bacon a little extra crispy.

“Go drink your coffee,” he mumbles against my lips once he breaks the kiss. “Let me finish making breakfast for you.”

“Boo,” I whisper against his chin, but draw back and saunter over to my table.

Abby zooms around my legs, very excited by the bacon scent and Erik’s presence.

I can't stop staring at Erik. The love-struck grin on my lips makes it hard to eat. And the best thing about it is catching Erik each and every time he casts stolen glances my way. Our eyes meet, and then his eyes dart away with a shy grin on his lips and a tint of red on his cheeks.

“How's the investigation about my bestie in the yard coming along?” I ask in an attempt to bridge the silence. And because I’m curious. “Do you have her real name or do I keep calling her Svetty the skeleton?”