Page 40 of Not In Love

She pulled back, laughing. “The bedroom that’s like thirty steps away?” Her soft giggle made the crack in his chest wider, deeper. “The danger zone that might trap us again?”

“You’re gorgeous when you laugh, Preciosa,” he whispered in a ragged tone.

“With cum decorating my hair and skin, sure.” She giggled again and reached for her robe. “I’ll leave you to your shower.”

Holding his hands, she pushed to her feet. He followed her.

He chuckled when she placed the bottle of ibuprofen into his hand.

“Shower first and then two of these and then bed for you.” He held his breath as she tapped her fingers under his eyes lightly. “You do look exhausted. Can I bring you anything else?”

He smirked. Mostly to hide the emotion crawling up his throat. It was something else to be at the receiving end of her care and concern. “Unless you’re planning to crawl into my bed and giving me that pretty pussy, I’m set.”

“Don’t tempt me.” She turned, hair wild, robe slipping off one shoulder, torn negligee bunched beneath it. Her thighs shone in the lamplight, her calves flexing as she moved. He wanted to grab her and start all over again.

“Kash,” he called.

She turned.

“Don’t overthink this.”

She gave him a rueful look. “That’s like asking me not to breathe.” Her eyes searched his. “Can we say this is okay until the wedding madness is over?”

He shrugged, refusing to give her an answer that would be a straight out lie. Surprisingly, she didn’t wait for one before she closed the door.

Maybe they were both beginning to see the bigger truth dancing between them.

For his part, he was damned if he was putting a time limit on this.

CHAPTER13

The rain hadn’t stopped since dawn.

It drummed steadily on the roof, filling the house with the kind of gray hush that made even voices sound muffled. Outside, the lawn was a sea of puddles and overturned flower buckets. Inside, it was barely controlled chaos.

Kash had been up since six, more than glad to have a house full of guests on her day off. Or she wouldn’t have gotten out of her head or her bed, thinking of what Diego and she had done last night.

Instead, there had been tea to brew, coffee pots to refill, and trays of store-bought muffins and fruit to lay out on mismatched platters for the dozen guests and cousins that filtered in and out like they were part of a revolving door.

The dining table was now covered with wet umbrellas, tote bags, half-opened boxes of votive holders and place cards, and a pink folder full of floor plans that had already started curling at the edges.

Not that the weather could dissuade the bride-to-be for too long.

Muriel had promptly moved on to the next thing on her pad and assigned a task to every single person, to be completed by lunch. Someone was organizing jewelry pouches in one bedroom.

A florist friend had been dispatched to assess backyard drainage and one of Muriel’s college friends was assembling alternate plans to have the ceremony inside if the weather disappointed them on the big day.

Kaif was still brooding, though. No, not brooding so much as avoiding Kash.

She caught him in the kitchen in the late afternoon, loading coffee mugs onto a tray with a distracted look. The sleeves of his henley were pushed up, his hair damp, and his expression too stormy for a man supposedly days away from getting married.

“You okay?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

He glanced at her. “Yeah.”

“You’re happy?”

That earned her a slight, flickering smile.

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