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She was standing on the edge of the kitchen with a huge grin on her face with the plate and her glass when I closed the door. “How was that milk?”
I rushed her and lifted her up and over my shoulder, gripping both her thighs to pin her against my chest. “Freaking milk.”
“Wait! Beckett, I’ve got a plate.”
I backed up enough for her to put it on the island counter. I took a sip of my brew and started out of the room once more.
“Wine!”
I backed up and she lifted herself enough to grab the bottle, her laughter filling my kitchen. There was a surprising amount of strength in her core. “Anything else, highness?”
I could see her in the reflection of the windows surrounding my kitchen. Night had fallen while we’d been cooking. She was drinking from her damn glass, her eyes dancing. “Nope. But I reserve the right to raid the freezer later if you have ice cream.”
“Of course I have ice cream. I’m not a caveman.”
She wiggled her butt next to my face. “Then onward, my magical steed.”
If I’d had another hand available, I’d have slapped that perky ass. Since it was so close, I turned my face to take a bite.
She yelped and her laughter turned into a gasping giggle that echoed all the way up the stairs.
When the day started, I hadn’t expected to have this much fun.
Now I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with myself when she left.
Chapter11
Helena
Morning Sun
I woke to a rustling beside me. My discarded wine glass came into focus in the watery early morning light.
Beckett was digging into the bedside table.
I shoved my arm under the pillow and tucked it under my cheek. “Whatcha looking for?”
He closed the drawer, clutching something in one hand and stroked down my hair with the other. “Go back to sleep, it’s early.”
“Okay.” I gathered the sheet and blanket around me against the coolness of his bedroom. I wasn’t used to sleeping naked, but Beckett wouldn’t hear of a sleepshirt last night. He’d pled his case spectacularly with his very talented mouth.
Who was I to argue?
I watched him pad across the room to the doors and go outside.
Going back to sleep now just wasn’t happening. Reality and morning was far too close. What was he doing out there? Some morning ritual in his farmer brain?
Maybe he didn’t know how to sleep in.
Maybe he didn’t want to stay with me in the light of day.
I sat up, trying to turn my brain off from its internal spin cycle.
We’d both tried to fight off sleep, reaching for one another through the night, each time more desperate than the last.
Then morning came and now I wasn’t quite sure what to do.
Did I follow him outside?
