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“You mean the actual performances?” Grant stretched his legs out, resting his feet on the coffee table. At my nod, he added, “I'm not sure, but I think next weekend. I should know this.”
“I don't,” I offered with a shrug.
“Honestly, I wouldn’t mind if this play went on for months.”
“Yeah?” I tucked my feet under my knees as I leaned back into the corner of the couch.
He glanced over, replying, “Hell yeah. It means we have the house to ourselves. Also…” He leaned over, snaking his long arm around my waist and tugging me close to his side. “You're not close enough.”
I burst out laughing. He shifted closer with his arm tightening around my waist and his lips maybe an inch from mine when he spoke. “So, what should we do with all this privacy?”
My belly felt light and fluttery, and my breath was short. “I don't know. You're injured.”
“So are you,” he pointed out.
We'd actually had a teasing argument about who was technically more injured last night. I thought it was Grant because he had more stitches. Whereas he thought it was me because I was in a car accident, which he said was more dramatic than a bear attack. I felt pressed to rehash the debate again. “I just want to point out I don't think a car accident is more dramatic than a bear attack.”
His breath gusted against my neck when he laughed softly just before he nipped the sensitive skin there. I shivered against him.
“Why do you say that?” He lifted his head, his eyes holding mine.
“Because car accidents are common. Getting attacked by a bear is definitely not,” I pointed out.
“I don't know if I would call it an attack,” he clarified. “She just swiped my leg.”
“Oh my God, what is it with you people in Alaska?”
“What do you mean?”
“You act like it's not a big deal, and you have stitches from a bear!”
“I'm fine. More people get injured in moose encounters every year in Alaska. I was probably in more danger when you chased that moose off.”
“Wow, you are such a man.”
“I am, in fact, a man,” he offered lightly. His gaze sobered. “I promise, I’m fine,” he whispered just before dipping his head and claiming my mouth in a bold, commanding kiss.
Grant’s kisses were my downfall. Ever since the first one, I'd fallen so hard. I was breathless by the time he lifted his head.
My heart was drumming rapidly, and I sucked in a breath. “We can’t do this right here,” I murmured.
“What do you mean? We have the house to ourselves.”
Before I could debate further, he lifted me carefully, setting me on my feet and undressing me as if he were unwrapping a present.
I was shivering with anticipation by the time he stood and kicked his jeans aside. Even though I'd seen it last night, I still gasped when I looked down at his thigh. Deep marks marred the surface. The stitches were tidy.
“Don't worry about it,” he said. I looked up at him. “You worry about you, and I'll worry about me. Now, where were we?”
Seconds later, he was sitting down, and I was straddling him. The position was the best option for both of us. My shoulder was sore, but I didn't have to worry about twisting or shifting too much.
When I felt the slow, delicious slide of him filling me, I got lost in his dark eyes.
“I love you,” he whispered.
EPILOGUE
Grant
