Page 107 of Catching Sparks

“Seven, I think. Maybe eight. I don’t know, that shit gave me trauma.”

“I’ll make sure to clear out all the cotton swabs from my bathroom when we get home, then,” he promises, huffing a final laugh.

My eyebrows shoot up at the insinuation. “Did you just hint at me staying with you at the ranch?”

He grows stiff but doesn’t jerk away from me. “Yes. But if you didn’t want to do that, I won’t mention it again.”

“Everyone would know if I started staying at the ranch.”

“I think everyone already knows about us, honey. If they didn’t before you went on that date, they definitely do now. I hardly doubt neither Johnny nor Bryce kept their mouths shut about it.”

“You made quite a mess of things, then, didn’t you?”

His eyes darken, crinkles appearing at the corners as he narrows them. “Are you trying to say that you wanted to keep it a secret?”

My stomach swoops with excitement at his soft-edged anger. Poking at him is far too much fun. Especially when it makes me horny to see him riled up.

“I don’t know. Isn’t it kind of fun sneaking around?”

“No. Sneaking around is for children. I’m a man.”

I gasp. “You are?”

His grip on my ass turns punishing. Heat blooms in my core. “Do you need a reminder?”

“So easily riled,” I coo, unclasping my hands to drop one between our bodies. He’s hard in his swim trunks as I brush my palm over the length of him and smirk. “You’re an old man, if I remember correctly. How is it that you’re ready to go so soon again?”

He pushes a hard puff of air from his nose. “I’m only four years older than you. And I seem to have no recovery time with you regardless.”

Clearly, if after just taking me in the pool a half hour ago and in the kitchen two hours before that, he’s ready to go again.

“It’s too bad I’m sore, then. I don’t think I’ve ever had this much sex in such a short time in my entire life.”

He makes a sound low in his throat. “That’s what I like to hear. However, we’re not done speaking about your living arrangements come our return to Cherry Peak.”

I sober up. “Are you actually saying you want me to stay with you? Do you have any idea what that would entail?”

“I’ve got a pretty good idea. I don’t want to only spend every few nights with you. I want them all while I can.”

Okay, swoon.

“In relationship terms, we’re technically in the honeymoon stage right now. I’m pretty positive that would change if we were to live together.”

“It would only be for three weeks,” he says, as if the reminder isn’t a stake through the heart.

I wince, darting my stare to the water behind him. It’s calm, not a wave in sight. As a girl who’s always believed in signs from the universe, I want to take this as a good one. But my gut tells me something else entirely.

A finger hooks my chin and forces me to stare at him again. I know I’m pouting, but I can’t help it. My chest aches at the thought of him going back home. Of all of this becoming nothing but a memory. A blip in his otherwise crazy important life in Toronto.

“Stop it, Poppy. Don’t think about it right now. I’m sorry I brought it up like that.”

I hate that I can’t look away from him as my eyes begin to burn with the promise of tears. I blink them away as quickly as I can and whisper, “How are you so unbothered right now? I feel like I could die.”

“If I let myself think about it, I’ll never leave. We would stay here forever. But that isn’t possible for either of us.”

Inhaling deeply, I nod once. “I know. There’s no point in worrying about it now.”

He licks his lips, brows furrowed. “That’s not what I’m saying. I worry about it every damn day. Wonder if I should have walked away long before I fell for you so that I don’t have to go through the pain that I know is coming. But I don’t regret anything. How am I supposed to when I have you in my arms in this beautiful place? I’ll never forget this.”

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