Page 23 of Fake It True

With a mental kick, I handed her a towel and a robe I never used and told her I’d wait in the living room. When she came out a few minutes later, her hair was still damp, but now her cheeks were flushed pink, and she was wearing my robe that trailed on the floor around her feet.

“Warm now?” I asked.

She nodded. “Your turn.”

“Give me five,” I said, as I walked past her. I raced through a hot shower and tossed on a dry T-shirt and sweatpants.

She had left her wet clothes in a tidy pile beside the hamper. I carried the hamper out to start a load of laundry. She was sitting on a stool in the kitchen when I returned.

“I feel silly,” she announced.

“About what?”

Her pretty hazel eyes held mine and the pink flush on her cheeks deepened. “I’m wearing your robe.”

When I met her eyes and saw her lips twitching as she tried to keep from smiling, a chuckle slipped out. “I started the laundry. You’ll have dry clothes soon. Now, let me start a fire and we can eat that pie.” I opened the refrigerator, peering inside. “Do you want anything to drink? I’ve got water, some beer, and cider from the winery.”

“Ooh, let’s heat up some of the cider. That would go perfect with the chocolate raspberry mousse.”

I got a fire started, while Casey heated up the cider on the stove. A few minutes later, she came into the living room carrying two mugs. I tried not to let my eyes linger on the shadowed valley between her breasts. My robe waswaytoo big for her. It trailed on the floor behind her, and she’d rolled the sleeves up. She sat down on the couch and tucked her feet under her knees before taking a swallow of cider and letting out a satisfied hum. “This is so good,” she enthused.

“Everything from Fireweed Winery is good. Do they do the spiked hot cider where you’re from?” I asked as I sat down on the couch with her.

The firelight flickering through the glass door on the woodstove glimmered on her auburn hair, illuminating streaks of gold.

She shook her head. “Not really. It’s pretty hot there, so there aren’t local apples. With the popularity of small breweries, you can certainly get it.”

“Should we try that pie?”

Her eyes lit up as she nodded. A few minutes later, I realized my mistake. Watching Casey’s lips close around the fork as she let out a moan with every single bite left me tied up in knots.

After another bite, she set her fork down, announcing, “I can’t eat anymore.”

The pie was good, but, in all honesty, I was hardly paying attention. Her presence had taken over my senses. I wanted to tug Casey into my lap and unwrap her like a present.

I set my plate down. When I looked over, her eyes held mine.

There was maybe a foot separating us on the couch and she shifted, shimmying closer to me. “You know, it’s raining.”

“I know.” My voice was ragged on the edges.

“What are we doing?” she whispered.

I tried to take a breath, but my lungs felt constrained. My body was wound tight with energy, electricity racing in a circuit.

I shifted on the couch to face her more fully. “I don’t know. I think we’ve established that we might both want something more, but I don’t want to rush you.”

Casey’s eyes skated over my face. She was quiet for a beat before she leaned over and lifted her mug of cider to take a swallow. When her tongue darted out to swipe across her bottom lip, that electricity sizzled straight to my cock. I forced myself to rein it in, to keep control, not to reach for her and pull her into my lap.

She put her mug back on the coffee table. “You’re not rushing me. We’re here. It’s raining and I don’t want to leave.”

She leaned close, just enough for me to slide my arm around her waist. She pressed a kiss in the divot at the base of my throat. Her touch was like a drop of liquid fire on my skin, heatradiating outward. When she lifted her head, she whispered, “Am I rushing you?”

“No,” I said flatly.

She shimmied closer. Just before her lips met mine, I checked her, holding her still with a palm on her chest. Her skin was warm. “Tell me, and we’ll stop at any point. Okay?”

She blinked and nodded. “I didn’t want to stop the other night. I don’t know what this is, but we have to see it through.”

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