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“Absolutely. I mean,as long asyour mom is cool with it.”
That was all it took for him to take off running past Eleven, down the hall, and out the door, where I was sure he hopped over the rotted wooden step and up his porch stairs. I chuckled to myself as I bent over to pet Eleven between the ears, picturing Noah bursting through the door and begging his mom to let him go fishing, as if we were going right now, at six o'clock in the evening.
He reminded me of … well, me.
Running up the stairs to my room after Grampa had announced we were heading down to the dock for the day. Throwing on whatever clothes I could find, not caring if they were dirty or clean or even the right size.
I glanced at the old red box and smiled through the bittersweet ache. Because, as much as I missed the man who had raised me, it had been decades since I'd felt this close to him. And somehow, the idea of taking that old tackle box out to the water felt an awful lot like bringing him back to life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
THE BOGEYMAN RETURNS
I woke with a gruff sigh to a room still dark and a small, lithe hand running slow, lazy circuits along the waistband of my pants. My lips quirked into a half-dazed smile as my eyes closed to the softness of her fingertips, dipping playfully beneath the elastic.
“What are you doing?” I asked in a sleepy, teasing tone.
Ray's lips pressed to my shoulder as her hand traveled lower. “Waking you up, obviously.”
I smirked toward the ceiling. “But it's Sunday.”
“Yes”—she kissed across my chest, her fingertips grazing the base of my quick arousal—“it is.”
“I sleep in on Sundays.”
“Oh, so sorry.” Her hand was quick to leave my pants as she propped herself up on her elbow, looking down into my eyes with a feigned expression of apology. “Should I let you go back to sleep then?”
I snorted, rolling over and flipping her onto her back. “Well, I'm already up now. Might as well do something about it …”
“Are you sure? I mean, it only takes you, like, two seconds to fall asleep, so if youreallywant to sleep in …”
She accentuated the pout of her full bottom lip as my hand rounded her hip to dip between her open thighs, finding she'd already taken off her underwear. I groaned, sliding my fingers over her smooth, slick, delicate skin, and she bit her lip.
A sound not unlike a growl scraped along my throat as one finger easily slipped inside.
“God, how the hell are you already so wet?”
The lip trapped between her teeth was released then, followed by a hushed gasp. “I woke up like this,” she admitted.
I lifted one side of my mouth in a smile as I worked that finger slowly. Moving in, moving out. “Oh, yeah?”
She nodded lazily, alreadysatedand drifting toward bliss. “I had a dream.”
My head dropped to kiss her collarbone, her neck, her ear. “A dream, huh?”
Ray writhed beneath my body, half covering hers, and she spread her legs further. “Yeah …”
“About what?” I tasted her earlobe, drawing it into my mouth.
“Oh God,” she moaned, elongating her neck, granting me better access. “It was about … about you.”
“Yeah? And what about me?”
Her laugh was breathy and exasperated. “Come on, Soldier … you know …”
I added another finger and nipped at her neck. “Was I eating a sandwich?”
That made her giggle as she turned her head and brought her hand up to cup my bearded cheek.
