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I’ve had many women.

But this?

It’s fucking heaven.

When Savannah goes limp against me, I pull out. Her eyes are closed, her breath still coming in rapid puffs.

“Savannah?”

She opens her eyes into narrow slits. “Hmm?”

“You tired?”

“Relaxed,” she says.

“Yeah.” I lie down next to her, pulling her up so that we’re both at the head of the bed, heads on her pillows.

And I’m not sure I’ve ever felt as relaxed as I do right now.

Certainly not on the inside, but even before. Before, when my biggest worry was whether to work with the livestock or work in the office.

Even when I had a woman—a woman I thought I loved—with good sex on a regular basis.

Never have I felt as relaxed—as satiated—as I do at this moment with Savannah lying at my side.

Without thinking, I kiss her cheek.

Then I entwine her fingers with mine.

I allow my eyes to close.

35

SAVANNAH

I jerk my eyes open.

I’m naked, and…

There’s a man in my bed.

Not just any man. Falcon Bellamy. My parolee. An ex-con.

And my God, the best lover I could ever dream of having.

What the hell have I done?

I’m not even sure what day it is.

Yesterday.

Ashley’s service.

Saturday.

Right. So today is Sunday.

Thank God. I can do damage control for a day before I go back to the office.

And then Tuesday…

Tuesday is Falcon’s appointment.

My God…

Should I wake him up?

I have no idea what to do. I throw on my tank top from yesterday and a pair of sweatpants, and then I pad out to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. As I recall, he drinks it black, same as I do.

Once the coffee is brewing, I look inside my refrigerator.

Not much. I’ve only been here for a little over a week. I’ve been subsisting on frozen dinners and sandwiches. I don’t have any breakfast food.

Falcon pads out then in his jeans, his dark hair unruly and sexy, stubble longer than normal. He yawns and stretches, his corded arms flexing.

I suck in a breath.

“Morning,” he says.

“Good morning. I started some coffee, but…I’m sorry. I don’t really have anything for breakfast.”

“Yeah.” He scratches the back of his head. “I didn’t intend to fall asleep. I wasn’t anywhere done with you yet.”

Seriously? I lost count of how many orgasms I had last night. Normally I have to work for one. With Falcon, they just come. I laugh inside my head at my own pun.

“No problem. We’ll go out.”

“To breakfast?”

“Yeah… That’s what we’re talking about, right?”

“Falcon, I—”

“What do you have planned for the day?”

“Well…it’s my day off I guess. I need to go grocery shopping.”

“Except in a small town, the grocery stores are closed on Sunday.”

“Then I’ll drive out of Summer Creek and find a supermarket,” I say.

“Okay. But what if I can give you something a lot more fun?”

“You mean go back to bed with you?”

He laughs then. A deep raucous laugh. Have I heard him laugh before? He’s always so dark and brooding. I like this laugh.

“That would be the most fun,” he says, “but I was thinking about going to the shelter.”

“Like a homeless shelter?”

He laughs again. “No, silly. The rescue dog shelter. I need a dog.”

Oh God…

He’s hitting all my soft spots. I love dogs.

I’ve never had one of my own because I’ve never lived in a building that allows pets. But this duplex does allow pets, and I was thinking about getting a dog as well.

“You like dogs?”

“I’ve had dogs all my life, Vannah. I just got a new rescue pup when…” His facial expression softens. “Well, you know. Raven kept him for me. He died six months ago, though. Cancer. But I know she gave him a good life.”

My heart hurts. How sad for him. “I’m so sorry.”

He shrugs. “Water under the bridge.”

“So you’re a dog person.”

“Sure am. I love dogs.”

Damn. There’s got to be something about him I don’t like. Other than the fact that he served time.

But so far, I can’t find anything. He’s devoted to his family. He gave a bone marrow donation to his sister. And he likes dogs.

Oh, and lest I forget. He’s really great in bed.

The icing on the cake is that he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

I gaze over him. At his tanned chest, his glorious sixpack, his muscular arms, his big hands with long fingers.

All the way down to his bare feet.

Even his feet are perfect. Square toenails. Just wide enough. And the big toe to the pinky go down in descending order. No longer second or anything like that.

If he weren’t my parolee…and an ex-con…

He says he’s not guilty.

They all say they’re not guilty.

There’s a story behind Falcon Bellamy. A story I’ll probably never know. Because when someone opens up and tells you their deepest stories? You’re kind of bound to tell your own, and I’ll never be ready for that.

I grab my phone and open my map app. “Do you know where the closest supermarket is?”

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