Page 63 of Wish I Didn't Want You Back

This is what a home should feel like, but it wasn’t just this house or even the man who lived here. Life in this town was simple. People cared for each other. I never felt that type of connection in New York, maybe because the city moved at a frenetic pace and people were always too busy to slow down. The locals in this community took their time and treated each other like family.

The only thing I missed about living in the city was the convenience. I loved the diverse cultures, the amazing food, andthe shopping on Fifth Avenue. But being back here and waking up in Brooks’ bed made me realize I missed this lifestyle more.

I slipped out of bed and grabbed the flannel off the back of the chair. I was in need of a shower and clean clothes, but first, I needed coffee.

When I entered the kitchen, he stood with his back to me, sipping his coffee while staring out the window. There was a fresh breeze, and you could hear the raindrops hitting the roof.

“Morning.” I smiled and beelined for the Keurig machine.

Brooks turned, and for a brief second, I started to panic. Would he regret last night? Would he go back to treating me like the enemy? Would he insist on sticking to our rules?

My nervous fingers reached for the coffee cup next to the sink. I sensed him lingering behind me. My pulse picked up as he approached.

“Nice shirt.”

I glanced over my shoulder, praying to God I would sound normal because sweet Jesus, he looked delicious. His chest was bare, outlining every muscle on his broad frame. His flimsy athletic shorts sat low on his hips, causing my mouth to go dry. His scruff was thicker today, and his hair was sticking up in places where it shouldn’t have been, thanks to my eager fingers last night.

I bit my lip, tempted to drag him back to the bedroom. “Wish I could say the same for you.”

He shot me a smirk. “I was being a gentleman and saving my shirt for you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sure, you were.”

He surprised me when he wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling my back to his front. “Are you hungry?” he asked, trailing his finger along my neck. “I can cook something.”

I expected awkwardness, not breakfast.

“I could eat,” I sputtered when his hand moved up to the underside of my breast. His calloused thumb brushed along my nipple. A small moan slipped out, and he spun me around in his arms to face him.

“So, about last night.” He hesitated. “I want to make sure you are okay with what happened.”

My eyebrows bent together. “I thought we already went over this.”

He rested his forehead against mine. “I’m not just talking about the sex,” he said carefully. “You recently got out of a relationship. And things are moving fast. All I’m saying is, we can slow down if you want to.”

I studied him. He was really worried. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

He frowned. “Get what?”

“I wasn’t in a relationship with Baz. What we had wasn’t real. It was strictly business. Nothing more.”

His jaw flexed. “You were still technically his.”

I reached up and slid my fingers into his messy hair. “No, I wasn’t, because I’ve always been yours.”

He closed his eyes for a half-second, breathing in deeply like he was trying to control himself.

I slid my hands down his bare chest. “I think deep down, I always knew that I would come back to you.”

He opened his eyes. They were dark and smoldering. “You keep talking like that, and I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”

“Good, because I don’t want responsible. I want wild and reckless. I want you, Brooks Dawson, only you.”

His mouth met mine in a claiming kiss. I wanted to savor the moment and lose myself in him over and over again. I glided my hands up his chest and wrapped my arms around his neck.Icould kiss him all day long until our lips were bruised and swollen, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

He pulled back, keeping his hands on my waist. “You are never leaving me again.”

My stomach rumbled, and I laughed against his chest. “If you don’t feed me soon, I might have to leave and go grab some food.”

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