Page 70 of Accidentally Sliding Into A Second Chance

That picture of Duncan, Scarlett, and Emmy avidly watching David at bat on TV. All three in Smokies jerseys…looking like the Three Musketeers. Adorable!

What about the pictures of Cat in the stands watching her man play?

The love shining on her face says it all. Not to mention the expression on David’s face whenever he was caught glancing in her direction.

Did we really accuse the two of them of faking it?

We may have steeped that tea too long, but even a bitter brew spills some truth now and then.

And Finn Mitchell? No tea yet, but we’re keeping the kettle on.

Till next time,

Chamie

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Cat

Streamsofsunlightsoftlycascade through the hotel window, waking me. I draw in a slow, deep breath and stretch before registering the warmth radiating from the man lying beside me. His chest rises and falls, the soft t-shirt rubbing against my cheek gently, followed by a light whistle.

David snores.

My mouth tugs at the corner, and I burrow closer. Still sleeping, he tightens his arms around me, pulling me snugly against him, his head turning toward me. My heart soars.

Inhaling the woodsy scent that’s purely David, I let it, and the contented exhaustion I feel, wash over me. A quiet warmth and calmness settle in my soul. I can’t remember ever feeling so seen, accepted, and loved.

The last two nights, we were like a pair of teenagers at a sleepover with endless streams of conversation. We talked until we couldn’t keep our eyes open another minute, and sleep claimed us, wrapped in each other’s arms.

It’s been perfect, except for the small doubt tugging at the back of my mind.

David never told me about Fiona after the first night I asked, and I didn’t bring it up again. It’s not that the opportunity didn’t present itself; it did, multiple times.

But fear held me back. One I can’t explain, and don’t want to analyze.

Inhaling deeply, David’s chest swells under my head like a gentle wave, and just like I did for the last thirty-six hours, I push the worry aside.

Certain he’ll talk about her when he’s ready.

“Good morning.” His voice is gruff with sleep and vibrates down his body, sending a tingle down my spine. His hand cradles my cheek just as I feel his lips on my forehead. The action is so tender, my heart aches. “How did you sleep?”

“Good,” I whisper, nuzzling closer. “How about you?”

I feel his mouth curl up against my forehead, and my lips follow. “I usually need more than three hours of sleep, but the three hours I got were heavenly.”

“I’m sorry,” I mutter, but he laughs, stretching and pulling me tightly against him.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” he says, rolling me over so I’m flat on my back, staring down at me. His eyes soften as he looks at me, their hue like warm mulled cider, and my heart stutters. His gaze roams over my face, and simultaneously, a hand gently pushes my hair away from my face. “The last two nights were the most fun I’ve had in a very long time.”

The words ‘I love you’ hover on the tip of my tongue, catching me off guard. I push them down and swallow.

“Thank you for coming with me this weekend,” he whispers, his lips inches from mine. The moment is pregnant with unspoken words, and the air is charged.

“David?” I push out hesitantly, my thumb running over his chin, coarse with stubble. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” he says without hesitation, and kisses me. “For you, I’m an open book. Ask me whatever you want to know.”

“Will you tell me about—”

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