Page 77 of Moving Forward

Overnight, our bodies became one tangled form. She’s practically on top of me, with her leg hiked up over mine and her arm across my chest. I’m holding her against me with one hand, but the other . . . yeah, I’m not sure how she’d feel about where it is. My cock has feelings about it, that’s obvious. I’ve got a handful of her ass in an iron grip. Not over her underwear, either. Beneath. I’m grabbing her bare, beyond sexy and deliciously firm, ass.

I will my hand to relax and shift her off me, careful not to wake her, and lean against the headboard. Whatever dream world she’s in, she’s lost to the real one.

With her draped over me like the best kind of blanket, I slept pretty fucking fantastic. Hell, I even slept in. Normally I wake up before dawn, despising the thought of facing a new day. With her in my life, waking up is exciting.

She stiffens and rolls over, snuggling into the covers at the opposite edge of my bed. This is my opportunity to try something semiromantic. I doubt she’ll be getting up for a little while longer. Not this little sleepyhead.

I search for my shoes and then head for the door.

“Where are you going?” Her soft, tired voice stops me in my tracks.

I look over at my shoulder. Her eyes are still closed, but one of her faint, beautiful smiles pulls at her lips. “Over to Ruth’s. Come over when you’re ready.”

“Okay,” she agrees, wiggling to a more comfortable position.

I reach for the door. “Don’t bother changing, Peaches. I’m not ready to see you in anything else. I promise I won’t let anyone else see you. Just me.”

“Okay,” she repeats, dozing off again.

I snort, pulling the door open and closing it quietly behind me. “Not a morning person at all,” I mutter to myself with a grin.

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I flip over the blueberry pancakes in the pan, figuring I’ve probably worn Max out of peaches for the rest of her life, then get a jug of milk out of the refrigerator and pour it into two glasses. I love living on the boat, but you can’t beat a real kitchen. In another world, I’d have a huge one with a surplus of counter space, a refrigerator filled to the brim with food, and more spices than I know what to do with.

The door jingles, followed by Max’s drowsy voice calling out my name. I put the pancakes onto the plates, still unable to wipe the damn grin off my face. “Back here.”

Hide your enthusiasm, there’s still room to get hurt, warns the dark, pessimistic voice that always lurks in my head.

Max appears in the doorway, pulling at the hem of my shirt. Guess it is a little short on her. Too bad I really don’t care. She looks too good.

“First a picnic, now this?”

“It’s nothing special,” I mumble. It really isn’t. Just a fancy tablecloth and some fake flowers Grams likes to put out for special occasions. Waking up to Max? Definitely a special occasion. A fucking celebration.

“Of course it’s special!” She stands on her tiptoes, cupping my cheeks with her hands. She bites the inside of her cheek, holding back a smile “Eating with you and being with you are two very special things worth getting up early for.”

“It’s not that early,” I tell her. “It’s eight.”

“What time does the diner open?”

“It’s closed today.” I shorten the space between us and kiss the corner of her mouth. I guess she found my toothpaste because she tastes like fresh mint. I can’t begin to imagine what she must think of me after rifling through my medicine cabinet. It’s one of the places I’ve spent the most time tediously organizing. Best she sees all my annoying quirks before she commits to being with me.

She pulls back and tucks her hair behind her ears, giving me a great view of that gorgeous blush of hers.

“What?” I ask skeptically.

She shakes her head and slides into the booth. “I think I might’ve given an old lady walking her dog a coronary.”

I’m relieved that’s the reason she’s acting this way. The scenarios that were running through my head . . . shit, they could make a man want to run for his life. “Was her hair orange?”

“Um . . . yeah? Not a very appealing shade of orange, either.”

“Don’t worry about that lady,” I explain. I sit down across from her and pick up my fork. “She’s been half crazy all my life. She probably thought you were her great-great-uncle or an alien or something.”

“Because that’s better than thinking I’m doing something scandalous, running around half naked. All I’ve ever wanted in life is to be confused for an old man. Thank goodness I’ve finally accomplished it.”

I smirk, taking a bite of my pancake. I watch her as she carefully puts a glob of butter on hers, then syrup. “At least you look pretty damn good running around half naked. If I have to be scandalous with anyone, can’t complain it’s you. In fact, I might have to complain about the half naked thing. We need to rethink that.”

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