Page 84 of Hang the Moon
Brendon tossed his pants aside and reached for the duvet. He stripped it back, the top sheet, too, and fluffed the pillows.
“Left or right?” he asked, grinning at her.
“No preference,” she said, stepping closer.
He stood, letting her slide in first. “I’ll take the left.”
She crawled in and he made to slide in beside her, but she said, “The lamp?”
He nodded, crossing the room. His footsteps faltered when he reached the foot of the bed and he doubled back, bending down and grabbing her purse.
She frowned.
“You forgot your Breathe Right strip.”
Her bones liquefied and her heart swelled. “Grab them for me?”
He reached inside her purse, plucking out the box and ripping it open. He grabbed a single-use strip and returned to the bed, peeling off the plastic backing. “Come here.”
She scooted to the edge of the bed and he pressed the strip beneath the bridge of her nose. “Is this lavender scented?”
His cheeks colored. “You mentioned liking the lavender fields in Provence, so I... yeah.”
Her heart climbed into her throat, her breath quickening. Surely he could feel each exhale against his wrist as he adjusted the strip. She could feel her nostrils flare subtly open when he finished.
“How do I look?” she asked. “Super sexy, I’m sure.”
“So sexy.” He chuckled and brushed his thumb against the curve of her cheek. “I’m having trouble keeping my hands to myself.”
She turned her face into his hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of his wrist, loving how his breath stuttered loudly.
Good thing he didn’t have to.
Chapter Sixteen
Sunday, June 6
Sprawled across Brendon like a starfish, Annie had left a small puddle of drool on his chest. It was a sure sign he was completely and utterly gone, a lost cause if there ever was one, if he found drool adorable. Drool. He was such a sucker for her he found herspitcute.
Last night, something had shifted. He wasn’t so oblivious as to have missed the subtle signs before, but had he, last night would’ve been in his face, unmistakable.
He wasn’t entirely surewhathad changed for Annie orwhyit had changed, but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. She wanted him and he wanted her, and the rest? The rest was just noise.
Ever so carefully, he extracted himself out from under Annie, rolling to the side and setting her arm gently down on the mattress between them. She snuffled softly but didn’t snore—scoreone for the nasal strips—and grabbed for her pillow in place of his body, cuddling it tight, tucking it beneath her chin.
He rested his head on his hand and watched her snuggle her pillow until his need to relieve his bladder outweighed his desire to watch her sleep.
Tiptoeing quietly out of the bathroom, he paused in the middle of the room, weighing out whether to wake her or not. He didn’t know the time—his phone had joined him for his impromptu swim and was fried—only that it was light out, sun streaming in through the slatted blinds, blanketing the room in a dusty golden glow.
Slipping on his boxers, he padded his way out into the hall. Coffee would have to come before pants andabsolutelybefore he even entertained the idea of putting on socks and shoes.
Softly humming “Walking on Sunshine,” he choked on his spit when his sister greeted him.
“Morning.” Darcy stared over the rim of her mug. One of her brows arched severely.
Uh.He crossed his arms over his chest, shoulders hunching high up by his ears. “Morning?”
She sniffed and gestured toward the kitchen with a wide wave of her cup. “Help yourself.” She paused. “You honestly couldn’t put clothes on? Seriously?”
