Page 66 of Catching Our Moment
She turned to me, and our friends faded into the background, discussing the details of the book.
Kelcie leaned into my chest. The alcohol had relaxed her enough, so her estimation of personal space was slightly off, and her lips were centimeters from mine. “What did you say?”
A different kind of light had returned. Uninhibited. Unhindered.
“What are you mumbling about, Shawfield?”
I tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “There you are,” I repeated, taking in every inch of the girl I remembered, the one who’d been hidden behind responsibilities and obligations. Tonight, we’d pulled her out.
“I haven’t gone anywhere.” Her laugh died, and her smile softened.
I played with the wisps of hair falling out of her ponytail, staring at them, and didn’t say another thing.
“Just kiss her already,” Aliya yelled at us. “And put us all out of our misery.”
I hadn’t realized how quiet it had fallen and how all their eyes were on us, like a bride and groom at a wedding. Before I knew it, Kelcie’s hand was on my cheek, and she was kissing me, giving them all something to talk about.
“Okay, okay,” Dylan said to Aliya. “Do you see what you started?”
A flash went off, and Kelcie drew back, her face flushed, her smile a bit shy and—damn me—flirtatious. I liked it.
“I think it may be time for us to…” I stood, pulling Kelcie off the sofa, ready to make our exit.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Grace said. “We’re doing a video call with Wyatt over pie. Then you can go home to your love nest. You have all night.”
“Damn, Grace, with the cock block,” I said.
“Anticipation—makes the heart grow fonder,” Aliya said.
“I think I’ve had enough anticipation to last a lifetime,” I grumbled, pulling Kelcie’s back against my front. I nuzzled her ear.
“Give it a rest, Romeo. Wyatt wants to see everyone,” Grace said. “Give him ten minutes.”
I sat back down on the sofa, pulling Kelcie down on me and cradling her on my lap. She stiffened at first but then sunk into my chest. We talked with Wyatt as Grace handed out a variety of pies. Kelcie snuggled into me as we caught him up on the latest happenings, but my attention was on holding her, feeling her warmth against me, the scent of her hair, the way her voice reverberated against my chest, and how my hand molded to different parts of her body (of course the PG-13 versions, for now).
She fell asleep on the way home, and I coaxed her into her side of the house, wishing I could hold her in my arms. The indulgence of food, wine, fun, and what I suspected was pure relaxation for the first time in a long time caught up with her. She changed into a strappy nightgown, and I stripped down to a modest t-shirt and boxers, and we both crawled into bed without any discussion of me being there. I held open my arms, and she sleepily crawled up onto my chest.
The moonlight was just bright enough for me to see her beautiful eyes, which were half-open. “Shaw, I?—”
“Go to sleep, beautiful. We have all weekend,” I said, kissing her chastely on the lips. James wasn’t bringing Aaron back until Sunday. That gave us plenty of time, and I wanted her to be well-rested for everything I dreamed of doing with her.
Besides, holding her, knowing this was where she wanted to be… Hell, I wondered if I would be able to sleep in this condition, let alone with this goofy-ass smile on my face.
24
Shaw
I awoke to an empty bed. Peering around the room for her, I fell on my back and took in a deep breath of Kelcie-scented sheets mixed with the aroma of coffee and cinnamon wafting from the kitchen. My girl was making me cinnamon rolls.
As if conjured from my dreams, she peeked her head around the door frame. “Oh, shoot, I wanted to wake you.”
“Well, good morning to you too.” I leaned up on my elbows, the sheet dropping down, exposing my bare chest, and I watched as her eyes followed it.
Then it was her turn. She entered the room wearing a short silk robe, and her hair was piled up in a messy bun. She leaned casually against the doorway, coffee cup in hand. I was a dead man. If I didn’t get to touch her, explore her, make her mine…I would die.
“You’re not for real…” she said in a breathy, sexy voice. “You just can’t be for real.”
I cocked a finger at her and bit my bottom lip to stop all the dirty thoughts I had from ruining the moment.
