Chapter Thirty-Two Remi
Chapter Thirty-Two
Remi
Archer’s bathtub was as incredible as promised.
If that thing had been in my home, I’d have used it every single day.
We soaked until our skin was pruny and the water temperature had cooled, but I didn’t find that I minded much with his big, warm body bracing mine.
He kept his arms around me, unwilling to let me sit opposite of him in the obnoxiously large space while we talked.
As promised, he washed my hair and carefully dried it with a bit of instruction from me. The sight of him in the mirror, shirtless, brow furrowed in concentration as he brushed out my hair and moved the hair dryer evenly, would have obliterated even the most daunting reservations.
But there were none to be found. Throughout the evening, I waited for them to appear.
For a voice in the back of my head to slither in and remind me that this might not last. That he’d get bored and move on.
That I was a selfish creature for wanting him the way I did. But there was never an opportunity.
Archer refused to concede an inch of space to any thoughts like that with the way he loved me through that first night.
Even when we were quiet, his hands dragging over my skin because he couldn’t stop touching me, I felt an ease that might have seemed too good to be true.
No. That phrase had no place here.
Too good implied that it wasn’t deserved, that it required a transaction to be earned. That we hadn’t fought to get here, when the fighting had begun long before we ever met.
The doubts stayed far away as we talked in the dark, facing each other in his bed. A small light on the nightstand allowed me to see his face, and him to see mine. Occasionally, he’d trace the line of my eyebrows and the slope of my cheek while I talked.
With his eyes steadfastly on mine, I told him about my conversation with Pops, and we traded confessions that becoming our parents was the thing we feared most. Then he kissed me.
It wasn’t the kind of kiss that you dream about when you’re single and loneliness is threaded through your day-to-day to a point that you don’t even really see it anymore.
It wasn’t a passionate kiss, it wasn’t dirty or fierce. It wasn’t a prelude to something else, demanding that we be swept away into more. Those were the kisses I’d imagined for so long, when I’d lain in bed and told myself that a love like this was too complicated. That it was for someone else.
Archer kissed me soft and sweet and fleeting—a reminder that he was here. That he’d anchor me in place if those fears ever threatened to unmoor me again.
That was the irony. He’d already unmoored me so thoroughly that there was no going back. I didn’t want to.
Loving him wasn’t an act of rebellion or a selfish impulse to feed a fix. It was an acknowledgment that sometimes the universe gifted us the perfect person in the most imperfect way.
Sometime in the middle of the night, tucked against his chest with his arm around my back and my leg slung over his, we fell into a deep, uninterrupted sleep.
This was a whole different kind of sleep.
An oversexed, just had four orgasms in as many hours, my body has never registered these muscles before but they’re sore kind.
Sleeping naked was a big no for me, because I didn’t need to traumatize my child if he came into my room in the middle of the night, and I didn’t like the idea of a cool breeze over my uncovered ass.
But tangled up with Archer, too exhausted to dig something out of his very nice closet, there wasn’t a stitch of clothing to be found.
When I woke, weak gray light filtered in through the windows.
We’d moved to our own pillows at some point in the night, though they were pressed close together in the middle of the bed.
That foggy half sleep didn’t let go of my brain right away, and I lay there for a few minutes with my eyes closed and simply rested.
There was no to-do list today. The shelter was covered, with someone else on call. Nothing screaming for my attention.
Just this.
Burying my face into the pillow that smelled like him, I pulled in a deep breath and then studied him while he slept. He looked younger like this. Less serious.
The line of his jaw was too tempting to be ignored, and the edge of my thumb found it, dragging over the stubble. If I looked, I’d have redness on the inside of my thighs from that stubble, and my cheeks warmed at the recollection. God, he was good. He was so good at everything.
To think I’d gone so many years not knowing this kind of physical compatibility existed, only to find it with someone who cared just as much about protecting my heart. It was a gift. Something I’d never take for granted.
Unable to resist, I leaned over and kissed the slope of his shoulder, then the notch at the base of his throat, where his delicious scent was concentrated.
I dragged my nose over the skin there, my hands wandering down the tight muscles of his stomach until I found the trail of hair that I was looking for.
I didn’t move on just yet, tickling the skin with light brushes of my fingers.
Archer groaned low in his throat, his eyes still closed. “You’re gonna kill me, woman.”
I kissed his chest. “No, I won’t.”
His hands traveled along my waist and my back, coasting up and down my spine as I shifted over him and tugged the sheet down, dragging kisses along his sleep-warm skin as I did.
“Coach is gonna ask me why I’m slow as shit, and I’ll have to explain that you literally fucked me into a coma.”
I chuckled against his stomach, placing gentle sucking kisses between his abs. I loved his body. Hard, chiseled muscles for my own personal playground. Created for strength and speed, but I’d be the giddy recipient of all his other talents too.
Archer wound his fingers through my hair in a firm but gentle grip, tilting my face so that I looked up at him with my chin set on his stomach. I expected to find thinly veiled desire, with pupils blown wide, but what I found was something entirely different.
The way he looked at me was akin to adoration, almost worshipful. It wasn’t sex in his bright-blue eyes, the heated looks that used to make me squirm. It was love.
I spread my hand over his chest, splaying my fingers wide over the firm, steady beat of his heart, and soaked up the charged intimacy of the moment. He dragged his thumb over my bottom lip, smiling faintly when I sighed.
“I’m going to be so pissed if I wake up and this isn’t real,” he murmured.
My heart gave a warm, contented beat before a smile ever formed on my lips. “I bet if this was a dream, my hair would be perfect and you would’ve woken up with my mouth on your—”
He growled slightly, pressing his thumb against my lips to cut me off. “No.”
I raised an eyebrow, nipping at his thumb as he pulled it away. “No?”
Archer shook his head. “I don’t want the fantasy of you, Remi. I want the real thing.”
Wasn’t the idea of reality the thing I’d donned like a shield?
That the combination of his and mine was fundamentally incompatible, or so I’d told myself over and over.
Remembering how thoroughly I’d believed that lie conjured a band of tension tight around my ribs, and as it snapped in place, I kept my gaze locked on his.
What I saw there made it easier to breathe, and the tightness dissolved in the space of a heartbeat.
We could do this.
It wouldn’t be easy, and we’d stumble more than once, but it wasn’t impossible. How sweet it felt to believe that with every ounce of my being.
“Even when we hardly see each other because of work?” I whispered.
He nodded.
“And when Gavin gets sick and I can’t come here on your day off?”
“I’ll come over and help take care of you both.”
My eyes fluttered shut as he traced a finger down my spine. “O-or when we have something planned and I need to go pick up a dog?”
“Dates in the car are sexy, didn’t you know?”
I pried my eyes open, and he was watching me with a content smile tugging at the edge of his lips. “Are they?”
“So I hear,” he answered easily.
Slowly, I shifted higher on the bed so his mouth was within kissing distance. Just in case.
“I could give you a hundred examples like this,” I told him, tracing the edges of his lips with my fingertip. “Even if I did, we’ll figure it out, won’t we?”
His voice was rough. “Even then.” His hand settled, big and warm, on the back of my neck. “Even when I’m exhausted and beat up and grumpy because we lose, and I’m still working twelve hours a day during the season.”
I adopted a serious expression. “You won’t lose now. I’m your good luck charm.”
“That so?” He dipped his chin and gave me a lingering kiss, humming as he pulled back. “I’ll let Coach know he’s got nothing to worry about.”
I laughed against his mouth, nuzzling into his touch as he slid his blunt fingertips down the line of my jaw. “Good.”
Archer’s gaze searched my face. “Can I make a request for today?”
“Me on top this time?” I teased. “You did say you were tired.”
“Not that.” His eyes heated. “But bookmark it for later.”
My fingers drummed on his chest, and I bit down on my bottom lip to keep the laughter at bay. “If not that, what do you want to do?”
Archer’s eyes dipped to my mouth, and he gave me a soft kiss before speaking. “Can we go hang out at your place?”
My heart stopped. “You’d want to?”
“Yeah.” The shy smile tugging at his lips absolutely unraveled me. “I didn’t get much time with Gavin yesterday, and, I don’t know, I forgot to ask him what he thought of my present. If he opened it yet,” he added. “It’s fine if he didn’t.”
Melted.
I completely melted.
If I hadn’t been in love with him before, that would have done it. I had a feeling that I’d fall in love with Archer Evans a million times for a million different reasons before my life was over.
“Yeah, I think we can arrange that.”