Page 137 of Caught from Behind

I grunt and yank my pillow over my head.

Too early.

Five has come far too early.

“Chérie.”

“Too early,” I rasp, giving voice to my thoughts. “Too damned early.”

“It is early, baby, but you need to wake up anyway.” His words are gentle and paired with him sliding the blankets down my body, tugging me from the last vestiges of sleep with the cool air hitting my naked skin.

Frowning, I manage to peel open my eyes and see…

“What the hell?”

It’s dark outside.

It’s nowhere near morning.

“It’s three?—”

The rest of my complaint is cut off when Riggs tugs a sweatshirt over my head, lifts my leg one at a time and tugs thick socks over them.

It’s firmly springtime in the Sierras, but the middle of the freaking night is still chilly.

Sweats come next and then my thick, fuzzy boots.

My heavy, puffy jacket.

I don’t know how he found all this. My stuff’s in boxes all around the room because I just moved in today, but I don’t have a chance to ask because Riggs is sweeping me up in his arms and carrying me from the room. “What?—”

“Hush, chérie,” he whispers. “Unless you want to wake the old man.”

Because Todd’s still here.

Though, he’s moving out next month when he closes on his house…three blocks away.

So, less tighty-whities…but just as frequent visits to the salon.

Lips twitching, I don’t make a peep until Riggs carries me through the back door, and then it’s to gasp.

Because—

“What did you do?”

“Up you go, chérie,” he murmurs, nudging me toward the ladder propped against the side of the house.

I can see the twinkling lights from the deck, but it’s not until I reach the final step and climb over onto the roof that I see the cushions, the blankets, and…the thermos.

“Keep moving, baby.”

Somehow I manage to make my way to one of the cushions. “What did you do?”

He settles next to me, cups my cheek. “I’m here.”

“I love you,” I whisper.

“I know.” A grin as he reaches for the thermos, as he pours me a cup of…