16. Cruz
16
CRUZ
We’ve eaten our fill, and it’s obvious that I’m just biding time now, ready to get her to bed. She gets up from my lap, and I let her go, even though I don’t want to. She starts covering the leftover food. “I should probably go to bed.”
She’s not looking at me. As a matter of fact, she’s looking everywhere but at me. I stand up and stretch my arms over my head. She gets two steps from me, and I catch up with her. “Where do you think you’re going?”
She gestures her head toward the bedroom she’s staying in. “To bed.”
I put one hand on her lower back and point in toward her room. “You rather we sleep in there?”
Her eyebrows lift. “Uh, we?”
I nod. “Yep. I’m not done with you, Tara Brooks.”
A look crosses her face, but before I can figure it out, she hides it. “What was that look? What are you thinking?”
She rubs her thighs together and winces. “I don’t think I can?—”
She looks away, and I put a finger on her chin and lift up. “Fuck, honey. You’re sore.”
She scrunches her nose up and nods, still not looking at me. “Yeah, a little.”
“Where do you want to sleep?”
Finally her eyes go to mine. “You still want to sleep together?”
I think I’m as surprised as she is because usually after sex I’m ready to get out the door. But tonight was different. It wasn’t sex… it was so much more. “Yeah, I do.”
She turns and heads back to my room and stands at the end of the bed. “Which side do you want?”
I flip off the light and chuckle softly as I stop next to her. “Pick whichever you want, it’s not going to matter by the morning.”
She climbs into the bed and lies down close to the edge. I climb in after her and lie down in the middle, then hook an arm around her waist and pull her flush against me. She turns, and with laughter in her voice, she says, “I never would have thought you were a cuddler after sex.”
I don’t even have to think about it. “I’m not, usually. It’s different with you.”
She opens her mouth but then closes it again. I adjust us some more until she’s lying practically on top of me and then settle with a sigh of content. With her head pressed against my chest, she murmurs, “You okay?”
I have our legs threaded together and both arms wrapped around her. It’s almost like I’m afraid she’s going to get up and walk away from me. Just the thought has me holding her tighter. “Yeah, I’m good. You okay?”
She nuzzles her hot little body against mine, and I have to hold back a groan. I can feel my cock expanding, and I can’t believe it has any life left. “Yeah, I’m perfect.”
We lie here for a few minutes, and I know I should let her sleep, but I can’t. I want to ask her a hundred questions and get to know everything I can about her.
“What is it?” she asks. She lifts her head and then lays it back down on my chest. “I can go to my room.”
I tighten my arms around her instantly and then realize I’m probably crushing her, so I let go a little. “No, I don’t want you to go. I was thinking I wanted to talk, but I know you should get some sleep.”
Fuck, how corny do I sound?
She seems surprised. “You want to talk?”
I stroke my hand in her now dry hair. “Yeah. Tell me about you.”
She blows out a breath. “Well, I think you know everything there is to know. I’m a florist. I love my job. I like to read, I hate to sing karaoke but Lexi always convinces me to do it and I end up having the best time. Uh, I would love to travel one day and see something outside of Whiskey Run. And you know my family.”
I ask her about where she dreams of traveling and her shop, and after she tells me about that, I ask her the question I’m dying to know the answer to. “What are you going to do if Grant asks you to come back to him?”
She snorts out a laugh. “Tell him to go fuck himself.”
When I’m silent, she lifts her head and searches out my face in the darkness. “What? You think I’d actually go back to him?”
“I know you said you don’t love him?—”
She cuts me off. “I don’t. Do you really think if I loved another man, I’d be here with you?”
Relief settles over me. I’ve never been the jealous type, but just thinking of her with another man almost sends me into a rage. I wrap my hand in her hair. “No, I don’t, but maybe I just needed to hear it again.”
She settles her head on my chest again. “Tell me about you.”
“I think you know everything there is to know about me.”
She lets out a cute huff and runs her hand across my nipple. “Cruzzzzz.”
I laugh and put a hand over hers, holding her hand to my chest right over my heart. I wonder if she can feel it beating wildly. “Okay, okay, so let’s see. My life is sort of chaotic right now?—”
She rests her chin on my chest, and I can feel her eyes piercing me in the darkness. “If you call signing a seven-figure book deal chaotic, okay.” After a short pause, her voice thickens. “I’m so proud of you, Cruz. And don’t forget, you told me I can read your book.”
“You can. I want you to.”
Up to this point, I’d been guarded about the fact I was writing a book, but with Tara, I feel free and want to talk to her about it. I want to hear her ideas and thoughts. We talk until the sun starts to rise. We’ve shifted a few times, but she’s still in my arms, held tightly against me. My cock has been hard almost the whole time, and I’ve done my best to ignore it.
When her breathing slows and she finally falls asleep, I let my eyes close as I think about the possibilities for the future. I know this is supposed to be one day: We’re supposed to act like we’re together, attend the wedding, and then go our separate ways, but I get a knot in my stomach just thinking about it. I don’t want this to end. I want more days with Tara. I want to be the one to travel with her and show her the world. Hell, I want to watch her come alive singing karaoke. I want to do all the things, and there’s no way we can go back to just being friends now. I want more. I wonder if she wants any of the same things as I do or would she be satisfied ending this after today? I need to start slowly. Today, I’m going to ask Tara to be my Valentine.