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I nod. “One time, I accidentally gave Mom a black eye when we shared an air mattress while camping.”
His lips tip over into a smile. “Your poor mom.”
“Hey.” I shove him, grinning like a lunatic. “She got me in the ribs. We both flail a lot. Vivid dreamers. It’s all part of being a creative.”
Shane shakes his head, but his smile doesn’t waver.
“Do we have a deal?” I ask, picking up my skewer and getting to work roasting.
He’s quiet for a long moment, but I don’t fill the space. Instead, I listen to the crickets chirping and the rustling of leaves in the slight evening breeze.
“Yes.”
Instead of victoriously punching the air, I take a giant bite of perfectly roasted marshmallow. After thoroughly enjoying both fluffy morsels, I rise to stand in front of Shane.
“I’m glad you agreed, because now I can tell you the second part of the deal.”
“The second part?”
Shane’s eyes flash when I sit across his lap.
I nod, hovering my lips over his. “You’re only allowed to kiss me out here.”
Shane tugs me closer with a hand over my hip while the other frames my face. His lips taste like sugar and something deeper…something enigmatic yet essential. And let me tell you, my husband makes good on the second part of our deal.
Chapter 30
Willow
This is infinitely better than any camping trip I’ve ever been on.
Sorry, not sorry, Mom.
Tell me who wouldn’t want to wake up tucked against Shane’s warm chest. Bonus: I don’t think I wiggled an inch after he wrapped me in his arms. Not a single kidney has been punched. No eyes blackened.
And who would have guessed that Mr. Grumpypus was also a competitive snuggler?
Shane’s skin still holds the delectable scent of woodsmoke. Paired with his lingering cologne, it’s downright diabolical. How am I supposed to think straight when my nose is pressed into the hollow of his throat?
The answer is, I don’t. I simply allow the expanding sensation within my ribs to grow and relish in the privilege of being held by this complicated, still-slumbering man.
Until…my bladder tells me cherishing-the-moment time is up.
It’s now sprint-to-the-bathroom time.
Except, when I try to slip from beneath the covers, Shane tightens his arms with a grumble.
I manage to pivot away, but my stealthy escape moves are thwarted by inked muscles. His baseball tattoo bands around my stomach, flames draping carelessly over my shoulders.
I’m about to pat his arm to wake him up when Shane burrows his scruffy jaw into the crook of my neck with the sweetest sigh.
My heart squeezes at about the same time my bladder gives me a thirty-second warning.
Picking up his right arm, I carefully slide it over my head before freeing his fingers from my rib cage one by one. Holding his left hand, I slide ever so quietly out of the bed until I’m kneeling in my flannel pants. Muffling my triumphant squeal, I crawl backward a few feet and then ease to standing.
A heavy pulse radiates through me watching Shane sleep, his full lips slightly parted.
Those lips kissed me to within an inch of my life last night. Shane savored me like he was never going to see me again, like he was being sent to another country, to war, to space. I’ll admit, I also felt a bone-deep need to show Shane how important he is to me, especially since I have to keep my feelings bubble-bound for now.
