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I giggle. “You just want to get me alone where you can do naughty things to me.”
His hands drop to my backside and his grin is ravenous. “You know me too well.”
We approach the front door, and I turn to face him. “No dirty business while little ears can hear.”
He grunts. “Fine. But you can make it up to me tonight. And you still need a nap.”
I roll to my toes and press my lips against his. “I can definitely do that.”
Inside the house, we find Ashlyn and Dillon on the couch with Destiny lying on her stomach on the floor as they watch a movie. They’re so engrossed in the TV that they barely acknowledge us when we tell them we’re taking a nap.
Trent goes to the bathroom once we’re in the bedroom. I reach under my shirt in the back and unsnap my bra—because who in their right mind takes a nap in their bra? After slipping off my shoes and shorts, I crawl underneath the covers. My head barely hits the pillow and I’m already half asleep. One of the things I hate most about my illness is that I’m tired all the time. No matter how much sleep I get, I always feel like I need more.
I snuggle deeper into the pillow and release a contented sigh. I’m almost asleep when the bed dips and a warm, firm chest meets my back. One of Trent’s arms circles my waist, and his face buries itself into the back of my neck.
Not a full minute passes before I’m off to dream land.
