Page 82 of Falling

“Stick around. You’ll find out that’s not the only time I am.”

“I plan to, Sunshine. I plan to.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

THESE BOOTS ARE MADE FOR WEDDINGS

RUBY

This has been the best day. We opted to ice skate instead of skiing, although Callum has promised we’ll go skiing whenever I want to back in Landmark Mountain. The shops are so cute around here that it felt wrong tonotdo a little shopping, and it just makes me excited to get back to Heritage Lane and explore there too.

I feel like I’ve been on hold and floundering a bit, not knowing when I can go check on the emus, and that’s still hanging over me, but this thing with Callum—this enchantment—has taken over every thought. I don’t have a name for what we are. Magic? Nothing seems quite big enough.

I love every single second with him. It’s like a constant yearning even when he’s next to me, even when he’s inside me.

I crave him.

My cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing. My hands are always on him. My skin is on high alert every time he touches me, which is constantly. His kisses make me weak and exhilarated, the topsy-turvy combo making me dazed half the time.

And the best part?He is deep in this with me.

He’s still laid-back. He’s still stoic and grumbles, and I think he probably imagines he’s giving me a full-wattage smile when he barely shows any teeth. Thathmmchuckle comes out more frequently, and it’s sosatisfyingwhen it sometimes goes deeper. But his eyes drink me up. His hands have mastered me. And his words…

I’ve seen the way he is with everyone else. Even the people he loves most don’t get all the words he hands me freely every second we’re together, and it makes me feel like the luckiest woman alive.

We have a delicious lunch at one of the restaurants Blake and Camilla suggested, and then spend at least an hour in a quaint bookstore that happens to have a superior selection of romance novels and thrillers, my two favorites.

I find Callum in the biography section. He checks out the books I’m holding.

“Want me to carry them?” he asks.

“I’m good. Your hands need to be free to peruse,” I say.

He tips my chin up, his eyes on my mouth. “You’re right about that.”

His eyes are heated and my insides twist in his orbit.

“Everything you say sounds provocative,” I whisper.

I sound breathless, feel breathless…

“You started it,” he whispers back, leaning in my ear. “Saying things likewith free hands to peruseandprovocative.”

I shiver and his mouth lifts against my ear.

“Are you wet right now?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Good. I want you to be so needy for me by tonight that you take exactly what you want.”

“You’re making me wait for it?” I say, louder than I intended.

“Hmm.” His chuckle sends a rain of chill bumps across my skin. “Yes, I am.”

He straightens, and if his eyes weren’t gleaming and focused on my mouth, I might not be able to tell he’s also struggling with restraint.

His eyes drift down to my chest and he licks his lips, and my eyes fall down to the bulge in his pants.

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