Page 49 of Forever By Morning


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His jaw firmed. I saw the indecision, then the acceptance.

It rolled over him like the shadows I’d found him in. Right then, I had to worry about me. For the first time, I had to put myself first.

I nearly wobbled when he slid out of me. The ache was as swift and sure as all the promises we were so careful not to make to one another.

When he moved to help me, I shook my head and nimbly climbed off him and snatched the sheet off the ground before hurrying back into the safety of his bedroom.

I ordered myself to gather up Zoe’s old clothes from the day before then I slipped into the bathroom. The clothes were dry thanks to Beckett’s smart thinking sometime in the night. He’d draped them over the bench at the bottom of his bed.

One look at my own haunted eyes had me averting my gaze in the big mirror. Part of me wanted a shower, but the other part of me wanted to wear his scent on me for a little longer.

Practical Helena be damned.

I tugged on the clothes and rinsed my mouth. I tried to brush out my hair, but the tangles were impossible. I quickly braided it to get me through to the Lodge.

When I came out, Beckett was already dressed. Broken-in jeans hugged him perfectly and a Brothers Three Orchard T-shirt emphasized every part of his broad shoulders that I’d enjoyed sleeping on the night before. His beard was thicker already. His eyes distant even as he smiled at me.

Reality was as stark as the sun streaming into the bedroom.

The bedclothes were still twisted. The flat sheet a pile in the center of the bed.

“Do you want me to help you strip the bed?”

“No.” His voice was rough. “Do you want some coffee?”

I shook my head. “I can get some at the Lodge.”

He nodded. “Right. Smart. Laverne’s coffee is miles better than mine.”

I laughed because we both needed it.

Because I would likely sob like a baby if I let myself.

Maybe later.

Maybe never.

I didn’t want too much sadness to touch this because there was no regret. Taking something for myself wasn’t wrong. A night spent with a man like Beckett who made everything perfect didn’t merit those kind of negative connotations. I wouldn’t put that kind of weight on it and diminish it in any way.

I crossed to him and went onto my toes to press a kiss to his chin.

He shut his eyes, all his muscles locking.

“Beckett.”

He swallowed, but he didn’t answer.

I reached up and cupped his face, tipping it down to me. Still, he kept his eyes closed. He was closer now and I could reach his mouth. For a moment, I savored those firm, warm lips that had mastered my body all night long.

Patiently, I lightly kissed him until he eased, until he lowered to meet me. His arms slid around me, dragging me tightly against him. The kiss spun out. Tongues, warm breath, achingly perfect.

No man had ever learned how to fit me—especially in one night.

I wound my arms around his shoulders as he lifted me up. Just like that, my legs went around him as we became dual vines feeding off the sun streaming through the overhead windows.

Finally, I drew back and met his blue eyes.

“I wish…”

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