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“I reacted badly, but all I can do is apologize and hope you don’t hate me too much for it.”
“I don’t hate you, Beckett. I just don’t understand why you’d get so upset.”
He set his mug down and stood.
I put my fork down when he moved in front of me.
“Then let me make it clear for you. I don’t want anyone touching you other than me. I don’t want any other man’s skin to be near yours other than mine.” He cupped the back of my neck and lowered his mouth to mine. “And the fact that I had literally come inside you hours before I saw you hugging him made me see red.”
I licked my lips and my heart thundered between my ears. A rush of goose bumps raised every hair on my body.
“Does that make a little more sense?”
Not at all, but nothing made sense at the moment.
He brushed my lips with his lightly before swiping his tongue along the seam of my mouth and delving deeper. He tasted of coffee and hope.
I was so afraid to wish for the hope.
I let him take me under as he kissed me deeply and thoroughly, leaving no doubts as to how much he wanted me.
When he straightened, my head was spinning as fast as my racing heart.
I opened my mouth—unsure what I’d actually say—but the shrill ring in the bedroom interrupted whatever might have happened next.
He sighed. “Damn Mondays.” Then he strode back into my bedroom. “Yeah? No.” There was a pause before he sighed. “Yeah, I’ll be right there. Give me…an hour, and I’ll meet you in the field.”
I pulled my robe closed against the reaction of my stupid nipples. The terrycloth abraded them in a way that left me restless. I busied myself with cleaning up the dishes and set the tray near the door for the maid to pick up.
He lowered his voice and I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but it sounded like some fire he probably had to put out. Being the head of an orchard meant mornings were probably busy and he’d been here looking after me.
I also had my own list of things to do. I was supposed to meet with Laverne’s new hire who would help me with the party-planning, along with Cara.
Hell, I didn’t even know where my purse was. Or my own phone, which was probably overflowing with messages.
God, I was such a damn mess.
I picked up the room phone and called down to the desk.
“Hi, this is Cara. How can I help you?”
“Oh, Cara…it’s Helena.”
The brisk, friendly voice changed to a whisper. “Oh, God. How are you doing?”
“I can’t believe you’re at the desk. I’m barely functioning.”
Then again, Cara was ten years younger than I was.
“Oh, I’m fine. Breakfast burrito and a cold brew and I was golden.”
Of course she was.
“I have your purse down here in the safe, by the way.”
“Oh, thank God. What I was calling down about.”
“Kira brought it in after we did the conga line. Gosh, that was a lot of fun yesterday.”
