Page 159 of The Best Laid Plans


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Humming against her skin, I pulled us back down into the pile of blankets, tugging them up and over us so that we were cocooned away from the light. “Are you kidding? I’ll need to go get one of those mattresses from the carriage house in about fifteen minutes.”

As I nibbled down the slope of her shoulder, my hands wandering over all the curves I’d missed so much, she emitted a breathy laugh. “Only fifteen minutes?”

She slid her legs up on either side of my waist, breaking off in a moan when I rocked my hips between her legs, a slow tease even though we’d already had one fast and furious round on the floor.

I sucked on the edge of her jaw while she arched her back and tried to pull me into her body.

“Did I tell you about the dream I had?” I whispered.

“No.” Her hands clutched at my backside, tugging me ineffectually. “This fifteen minutes would be so much more fun if you just ...Please, Burke.”

Against her mouth, I laughed, nipping at her bottom lip, teasing her tongue with mine.

Only when I started whispering pieces of my dream against the delicate shell of her ear did she relax, did she thread her hands through my hair and move with the slow, rolling curl of my body over hers.

I told her about the bed under the window, sliding forward inch by inch until my body was tight against hers and I could swallow her sweet sigh of relief.

I told her about the bookshelves and the chair and my hands over her body—full with a child, something we’d never discussed, never even hinted that we might want, and she kissed me furiously.

I told her about all those things my head and my heart kept showing me—the future of love and family and us—and she seized around me with a cry.

I followed her there—it was bright and hot and so acutely good that it stole my breath for just a moment.

We tugged on some clothes to move the queen-size mattress from the blue bedroom in the carriage house. We ate cold pizza in the big kitchen, and when I told her I was ready for bed, she held out her hand with a smile. Instead of taking it, I swept her up in my arms, swallowing her laugh with a deep kiss as I carried her up the stairs.

“Admit it,” she said, “you wanted to do this the first day you saw me here.”

As we passed the place where one spindle was only slightly different from the rest, I grinned and kissed her again, my heart full of something that felt a lot like peace.

Epilogue

BURKE

Three months later

“I think you planned this for your own selfish purposes,” I whispered into Charlotte’s ear.

She settled her arms over mine where they wrapped around her waist, and we watched the twins run around the backyard. Even though it was December, we were experiencing a warm front, and the early snow had melted, leaving trampled grass and bare trees as their playground. “Would I do that?”

“Find my sister the perfect house when she decided to move here, just down the road from ours—minutes away from two beaches—and it happens to be a 1900s Colonial that you can treat as your personal pet project?” I nipped at her earlobe. “Yes.”

She laughed when I buried my head in her neck and kissed her warm, clean skin.

From the kitchen, Daphne said something that had Tansy laughing loudly. They did that a lot. Once Tansy packed up the kids, got their house on the market, and made the twenty-hour drive up to Michigan, it didn’t take long to realize that those two were trouble together.

“He didn’t,” my sister gasped.

Daphne nodded. “He sure did. First time we met, if you can believe it.”

Tansy clutched her stomach, struggling to breathe because she was laughing so hard.

“I don’t think I want to know,” I said.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” She turned her face, mouth seeking mine for a soft kiss. “She told me this story when I was seventeen, and I swear, it traumatized me.”

My smile was easy, as was the case most days.

Had been that way since Charlotte forgave me and we moved into the Campbell House together.

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