Page 5 of Until We Come Home

"It's fine." I blow another thin stream of smoke up toward the warm lights. "And no. Not really. I don't go looking for that anymore."

"Nothing at all?"

"I didn't say nothing," I say, handing the joint back to her. "I just don't do the whole romance routine anymore."

"So you're living like a monk?"

“No, not a monk. Just no relationships. I hook up now and then, if I’m feeling lonely enough. It’s been a while, though. Longer than I’d like to admit.”

Her eyes stay on mine, and it’s getting harder to ignore how attractive she is. The open buttons at the top of her black dress leave that thin edge of lace showing, and the dark eyeliner winged out at the corners gives her the look of a sixties movie star.

Even back here in the shadows, she holds my eyes with an intensity that has me wanting her before I’ve even finished the thought. She hands the joint back over, and I take a long hit, watching the smoke curl up while I keep my eyes on hers.

A subtle, teasing grin curves her mouth. “So... is tonight one of those lonely nights?”

I gaze down at her, the dark air thick around us. “Yeah, it is. What about you?”

She nods slowly. “Very lonely. So why don’t we get out of the dark and head back to my room?”

“Lead the way.”

Mia

My room at the inn is a five-minute walk down the road from the restaurant, and neither of us says much on the way. I feel weirdly comfortable with him already, and after three weeks of moping over Derek, I could use a good, uncomplicated night with a ridiculously hot firefighter.

It’s exactly the distraction I need.

The lobby is dead silent when we slip inside. Given how small the inn is, I’m pretty sure the Midnights and I are the only guests staying here, and I didn’t even catch a glimpse of the innkeeper on the way in.

We head down the dim hallway toward my room, and I sneak another look at him. He’s easily one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever met, and I’ve worked backstage with a lot of them.

He pushes his wavy black hair off his forehead as we walk, tall enough that I have to tip my head back to see his face. Dark brown eyes, golden-brown skin, and something intense in his face that’s hard to look away from. My exact weakness, in other words. He glances over and catches me staring, and the corner of his mouth lifts, which seems about as much as that face gives away.

I turn the key in the lock with a click before his hand catches my arm, bringing me to a stop.

“Wait. Are you sure about this?” he asks, eyes locked onto mine. “We barely know each other. There’s no pressure if you’re having second thoughts or anything.”

I smile up at him. “One hundred percent. Being strangers isn’t much of a drawback for me—if anything, it’s a perk. Besides, you seem like a safe enough fling, given the whole firefighter, rescues people for a living thing, and how much your family adores you.”

He smirks. “Glad I pass inspection, then.”

I tilt my head, giving him a teasing look. “Are you having second thoughts? Because if you’re pulling back...”

“I’m not having any second thoughts,” he says, and his hand slides from my arm down to my hip, slow, like he’s checking that’s allowed. “You seem harmless enough yourself.”

“Don’t count on it,” I say.

“Good,” he says against my ear.

I push the door open and get half a look at the warm, lamp-lit room before he pulls me close. His hand cups my face and draws me into a slow, deep kiss that unravels me. I melt into his touch, my knees going weak as I scramble to wrap my arms around his broad, solid frame.

Slowly he walks me backward, one hand reaching past me to push the door shut and the other still on my face, his fingers sliding back along my jaw to the nape of my neck and gripping the base of my hair, and the tug of it pulls a moan out of my mouth as he kisses me deeper.

God, the man can kiss, and I can barely think. We reach the bed and he gently lowers me down onto the quilt, his weight settling over mine, his sheer size making me feel small as he presses himself against me.

I try to get at the buttons of his shirt but can’t make my fingers work, and his own fingers slip through the open buttons on the front of my dress, working them loose one at a time, and I can barely breathe as he pushes the fabric off my shoulders and his hand cups my breast through the thin lace of my bra.

His teeth graze a particularly sensitive spot just under my ear and I arch into him, an involuntary, almost-squeak escaping me before I can stop it.