Page 82 of Beyond the Cottage

“I’m barely tipsy,” she laughed. “Just enough to admit Idowant it. Have for a couple days.”

His heart jolted.

Did alcohol make her honest or cruel?

He desperately wanted to believe the previous night hadn’t been a delusion or a fluke. Because she wouldn’t want someone she hated, right?

Her fingers skated over his scalp, and she gripped his hair.

He couldn’t take any more of this. He tugged her forward until their noses touched.

“Gretta, when—” He cleared his throat. “Ifyou ever let me fuck you, you’re going to remember it the next day. Now it’s time tosleep.”

Her body slackened, and her hands fell off him. He picked her up and ripped the corner of the blanket back. She let him slide her under the covers.

“Will you at least stay by me?” she asked. “To sleep?”

Could he handle sleeping in bed with her?

Fuck yes.Exhaustion already made his muscles buttery, and they’d both be out in minutes. Staying over the covers, he crawled in behind her, and she tucked herself against him spoon-style. As he curled his body around hers, she dragged his arm around her.

Ansel hesitated, debating. Then kissed her neck before closing his eyes.

Chapter 30

Gretta’s mouth felt stuffed with sawdust. A tiny hammer pounded in her temples. Groaning, she opened her eyes to find morning sunlight peeking through the curtains.

She lay draped over Ansel’s chest, their legs entangled and their arms clamped around each other like manacles. The sheet and blanket lay in a pile at their feet.

Two slow blinks.

A long inhale.

Gretta’s breath released on a shriek. “Whatthefuckinghell?!”

Ansel jerked awake.

Wriggling in his arms, she cried, “Ansel, letgo!”

His eyes cleared as he absorbed the scene. With a deep exhale, he released her and stared at the ceiling, gripping his hair.

Gretta scooted to the far side of the bed. Her rumpled tunic hung from one shoulder. Her pants were missing altogether. He was fully clothed, but that didn’t mean he’d stayed that way all night.

She dragged the sheet to her chin. “Holy shit. Did we…?”

“No.”

She dipped a hand under the sheet and felt her drawers. They were dry, but…

“Did you…do anything to me?” she asked.

He leapt from the bed and slammed a hand on his hip. “Goddammit, Gretta! Do youreallybelieve I’d violate you?”

Guilt stung her because she knew he wouldn’t. “I’m sorry. But would you please explain how we ended up like this?”

“Gladly.” He crossed his arms. “As I’m sure you’ve deduced, you came back tanked last night. You kicked off your own pants when I helped you in the bathroom, then youaskedme to stay when I put you to bed.”

“You helped me in the bathroom?”I asked him to stay?!

---