Page 73 of You Met Me There

“Relax,” he says, softening the tension pressing into my arch. “Promise me you’ll talk to her.”

“I will. I just said I would.”

“Promise.” He tickles my foot, and I yank it away.

“I promise,” I say, fighting a smile.

“Good.” He bites his lower lip, looking at me the way he did in Texas when the sun streamed through the empty house and he walked across the rays to hold me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I say on a breath.

“Like what?”

“Like you want to carry me to bed,” I say, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them.

He licks his lips. “Because that’s exactly what I want. I think you know that.”

Heat creeps up my neck. Even after seven years of marriage, he still makes me feel all mushy gushy inside.

“What would you say if I told you I also want that?” I ask, resting my chin on my knees.

Luke straightens up, his brows rising to his hairline. “Really?”

I press my lips together, grinning. “Mm-hmm.”

He wastes no time in climbing across the couch, pressing his body against mine before he kisses me gently. Our lips only brush before he leans back to look at my face. “I love you, Natalie.” His tone is serious, reverent. His blue eyes steal my gaze, and I can see nothing but him and the flicker of candlelight that dances over his jaw.

My fingertips trace the stubble on his chin, then move to touch his lips. “I love you, too. More than anything.”

His lips capture mine once more, this time desperately, like I might slip through his fingers and disappear.

And I kiss him back. I missed him so much. My hands grip his hair and pull him closer, my lips opening to his. The air between us is electric. Heat fills my cheeks and I want him nearer.

Luke shifts back, pulling my legs around his hips. He stands, effortlessly lifting me from the couch. He carries me to the bedroom, closes the door behind us, and I get lost in him.

Chapter 36

Luke

My eyes flutter open in the dark, grabbing at shadows and trying to make sense of what woke me. The bed shifts. In the near pitch blackness of the night, I barely make out Nat’s figure leaving the room. She closes the door silently behind her, and I lie back against my pillow, rubbing sleep from my eyes.

Maybe she couldn’t sleep. A lot happened yesterday, and she’s most likely struggling to rest her mind. I debate going back to sleep, but something makes me swing my feet to the floor. I turn on the lamp beside the bed and creep to the stairs. A light glows from the kitchen. I tiptoe down the steps, and when I reach the last step, I hear the rustling of a plastic bag.

I step around the corner. “Natalie?”

Natalie’s head whips up, her eyes wide with surprise in the dull light. “Luke.” She gives me a tired smile.

“What are you doing?” I ask, scanning her face.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she says, her face falling. “Did I wake you?”

“I heard you get up.”

She crosses the kitchen to me and rests a hand on my bare chest. “I’m sorry. I tried to be quiet.”

“What were you doing?”

“I was looking for tea bags. You know, the decaf ones I like that make me sleepy. But I guess we forgot to buy some.”