Page 12 of Lead Me Knot

Baylor

My size overwhelms her body.There’s not one part of me that can’t wrap around her in some form in length or width. As I hold her from behind, she fits nicely under my arm, curled against me in peaceful sleep. Her waist is small, but she’s full in the hips. Her legs are lean, but I left a little hickey on the inside of her thigh when they softly gripped the side of my head as she came.

The depth of her eyes still draws me in each time her gaze lands on mine. Her dark hair is a mass of unruly curls that I can tell drives her nuts. I love it. It’s chaotic and less perfect. Different from what I’m used to in New York. It fits the varied landscape of Peachtree Pass and the way she totters between what she wants, speaking her mind, and what she seems to hold back sometimes when she goes quiet.

Taking a few deep breaths, I exhale slowly. It took me years to find a rhythm to help me fall asleep with the noise of the city. Here, the quiet keeps me awake, and maybe thewoman in my arms, though I’ve been content listening to the melody of her soft breaths.

I clear my mind and focus on her and her breathing, feeling the pull to go to sleep harder to fight.Finally, my thoughts fade . . .

Openingmy eyes to the dim sunlight of early morning, I roll onto my back, squeezing them shut again, and scrub my hand over my face. A groan comes from exhaustion, but the scent of baked goods softens the blow.

The unfamiliar smells and the way the light threatens to intrude from the other side of the blinds can’t be marked in my mind. I sit up and look around. Time is absent. My surroundings can’t be placed. A turquoise vase with pink flowers on top of a walnut dresser. A framed photo of a blue sky with a cloud escaping in the corner.Where am I?

My eyes dart to the empty bed beside me, and the memories of last night come rushing back. “Lauralee?”

Not a sound is detected, so I swing the covers off and walk into the living room. The apartment looks completely different in daylight. Bright. Yellow throw pillows on a blue couch. A green bowl has fake peaches filling the inside. Free of most clutter, but a few touches that make it feel like a home. A framed poster from the Peach Festival, dated from when I was in college, hangs over the couch. It feels like Lauralee in here.

I think it’s safe to assume the delicious scent is coming from Peaches downstairs. She’s already started baking for the day. I find myself smiling as I work my way to the suitcase I left open on the floor. Grabbing clean clothes and my Dopp kit, I move into the bathroom to shower.

Judging by the sunlight not flooding the place, I can probably get out to the ranch before everyone gets going for the day. I clean up and wash my hair and get ready afterward. Slipping my watch on, I grab my phone that she plugged in for me. Another grin slips into place. I’m starting to think I was too bullheaded to look twice at my sister’s friend to notice the woman she’d become. And since I’d threatened my best friend when we were younger not to look at my sister, it makes sense that I wasn’t eyeing up her friend.

I make the bed for her, then pack up my suitcase. I lost some time in the past few minutes, and the sun has risen higher. I’m not looking to make an entrance, unlike my usual style. Questions will come, but it’s probably best if Lauralee and I keep quiet about our night.

After packing the suitcase in the rental, I check the door to the shop. It’s locked. Good girl. I knock and step back, tucking my hands in my pockets. She probably would have been fine if I’d gone on about my day and taken off for the ranch, but a knot in my chest told me to stop by before leaving.

When the door opens, she’s already smiling as if she’s been waiting for me. “Well, hello there, stranger.” Her hair is pulled into a ponytail high on the back of her head, and flour dusts across the bridge of her nose. Her natural pale pink lips beckon me to her, and the prettiest light blue dress with tiny white flowers covers the body I was lucky enough to hold last night. She’s morning sunshine in human form.

God, she’s gorgeous.“Good morning.” I cup her face and kiss her like we’ve turned time back to last night. Deep. Sensual. More than our tongues connecting, which suddenly feels dangerous in new ways. But I needed onemore to get me by because if this is all we ever have, I want to give us a hell of an ending.

Her hands slide over my arms until she’s holding my shoulders. When our lips part, she lowers to her heels, and her eyes slowly open. A sweet smile upturns the corners of her mouth, and she asks, “What brings you by?”

“I wanted to see you again. And I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed last night.”

After stepping back to the doorframe, she shifts her weight onto her hip. One arm falls to hang at her side, but the other hand slides into mine, keeping us joined together. “Me too.”

I’m not sure why I feel the need to explain. This wasn’t that serious, but I do anyway. “I’m only here for the weekend.”

“I figured. You heading to Rollingwood Ranch?”

“Yeah, I was supposed to be there last night. The weather,” I say as if she can fill in the rest.

“It was bad, but we have a beauty of a day today.” Her eyes look past me and into the morning sunrise sky. When her eyes return to mine, she smiles. “We weathered the storm and came out the other side.”

“We sure did.” I take a step back, not wanting to but knowing I should. What am I going to do? Stand around here all day bugging her? Our hands release each other’s, and I nod toward the car. “I’m going to head out. Thanks for last night. I’m happy to pay you.”

Her head juts back on her neck, her smile wiped clear from her face. With her brows tipped together, she asks, “What are you talking about?” When her hands fly to her hips, I know I’m in trouble. “Is that what you do in New York?” Her head falls back. “Ew. I knew I couldn’t trust you.”

I stare at her, watch the dramatics, hear the disgust in her voice, and try not to laugh.I fail.

She says, “What? Why is this so funny to you?” Her hands anchor to my chest and push me back off the little concrete pad under the patio to the apartment. “You know what? I don’t care.” Her arm flies into the air, and she points to the middle of nowhere. “Go. Baylor. Just go.” I catch her hand and bring it to me despite her trying to wriggle it free. “Let go.”

“Listen to me, Shortcake.” I kiss her balled-up fist. “You’re getting all hot and bothered over nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. You’re treating me like I’m a wanton?—”

“Landlord.” I try, unsuccessfully, to loosen her fingers. I mean, I could if I wanted, but she clearly needs to hang onto the anger a little bit longer. “Chris told me you’re going to rent out the place. I used it, so I offered to offset some costs. I wasn’t offering you money to let me go down on you.”

“Oh my God.” Her cheeks flame, burning red. “Don’t say that.”

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