Page 63 of Hometown Touchdown
I grin like an idiot. Because she’s here, in my space. Petting my dog. Looking like she belongs here.
Upstairs, I change, while Brynn explores my room with a wide-eyed curiosity. I grab her a new toothbrush and hand her one of my softest old Outlaws T-shirts.
She’s in just her underwear as she slips my T-shirt over her head, and my brain short-circuits for a solid ten seconds.
“I know that look,” she says, climbing into bed and patting the spot beside her. “But I think we both need to sleep more than we need to fool around again.”
“I disagree,” I mumble as I slide in beside her, flipping off the light. “But I’m a gentleman. Sometimes. Sort of.”
She curls into me like it’s second nature, her head on my chest, her fingers brushing over my ribs. Our bodies fit together like they never forgot. While it’s familiar, I can’t help but feel a newness with it. I want to experience everything with her again. The first sleepover, the first Sunday dinner with my parents. I want new memories with her.
“This bed’s too comfortable,” she says sleepily.
“Good. I want you to get used to it.”
Her breath catches for a second, then she exhales. “Me too.”
I press a kiss to her hair and close my eyes.
And for the first time in years, I feel like everything in my world is finally, finally in the right place.
Chapter thirty-two
Brynn
There’sawarm,furryweight pressed against my side. For a blissful, half-awake moment, I don’t open my eyes, I just breathe it in. Soft sheets. Clean, masculine scent. The quiet sound of a deep, even breath beside me.
And the distinct, unmistakable feel of a dog curled up in the bed.
I crack one eye open and am greeted by a big, soulful stare and a tail thumping gently against the comforter.
“Priscilla,” I whisper, blinking sleep from my eyes.
She gives me a low huff like she knows she’s breaking the rules but isn’t remotely sorry. Her warm body is pressed snugly between me and Knox, who’s still sleeping with one arm slung over both of us like this is completely normal.
And maybe it is. Maybe this is what normal could look like, waking up tangled between a gorgeous man and his golden retriever with no boundaries.
I stare at the ceiling for a second, letting it all sink in.
Last night, Knox said he wanted me. All of me. No hesitation, no exceptions. Even after I told him the hardest truth I carry. Even after I gave him an out.
But, instead of taking that out, he showed up on my doorstep like a one-man army ready to fight for me.
Now here he is, snoring softly while his traitor of a dog nuzzles her nose against my neck like we’ve been doing this for years.
He shifts beside me, groaning as he stretches. His voice is scratchy, laced with sleep. “Mornin’, baby girl.”
My heart stutters.God, that nickname.The first time he said it last night I thought I would jump through my skin with the feeling it shot through me. It made me feel special, it made me feel like his.
“Morning,” I murmur, reaching down to scratch behind Priscilla’s ears. “You said she wasn’t allowed in the bed.”
He groans again and rolls to his side, eyes barely open. “She’s not. This is a clear violation of house policy.”
“Seems like you’ve lost control of your household.”
He smirks. “She sensed the emotional vulnerability in the air and seized the opportunity. She’s smart like that.”
I glance over at him. His hair is messy and sticking up on one side, the sheet riding low on his hips, chest bare and golden in the early morning light. He looks warm and rumpled and like home.
