Page 104 of When It's Us
I could let myself free fall. It feels like it would be so easy. I could lean into this—whatever it is—and let myself be open to what a future with Ginger could look like. It could be good. Amazing even. If not for that feeling in my chest…it’s like a warning sign.
She’s not some single, twenty-something chick I picked up in a bar. And as much as I hate them for it, my brothers and my sister are right. Ginger is special. She’s interesting, capable and stable. She’s a mom. She’s got her shit together and I’m not sure if whoIam—and who I am not—will ever fit into her life. Or if she’d even want me there.
She runs her fingers up over my ribs, across my chest to circle a nipple with her fingertip.
Reaching up with a chuckle, I grab her hand and press her knuckles to my lips. “You’re gonna break my cock, filthy girl.”
She laughs lightly before lifting her head to press a kiss to my mouth. Her eyes dance with mischief when she grins. “I thought younger guys were supposed to have more stamina. Maybe I need to find someone in his twenties.”
I hope she can’t see the vulnerability in my eyes. Her words were meant to tease me; I know that. But they also hit an invisible mark in my chest, like pushing on an old bruise; it aches enough to be annoying. But then her hands are back in my hair, and she’s pulling me in, kissing me until the pain fades.
Growling at her, I sit up and shove her onto her back, digging my fingertips into her ribs until she’s wheezing with laughter and her eyes are leaking tears. Then I kiss her until she’s breathless and writhing underneath me again, rocking her hips up to meet mine.
We kiss for what feels like minutes instead of seconds, lost in the sensation of her body underneath mine, and I shove every other thought away. Until her stomach growls in protest.
I chuckle against her lips, then drop a kiss on her nose. “Hungry?”
The pendant around my neck hangs between us as I hover above her. She reaches up and tugs it playfully. “Do you have peanut butter?”
I look down at her, gorgeous curls fanned across my pillow. “Think so.”
“Graham crackers?” she asks hopefully, a little smile tipping up her lips.
I chuckle again. “Not likely.”
“Toast?” she asks, shoving a tendril of hair off her forehead.
I nod, moving to get up. Her eyes track my movement, watching me as I cross the room and pull out a pair of navy-blue boxerbriefs before slipping them on. When I turn back to the bed, I can’t help but love the sight.
“Shit, California. You look good in my bed.”
She blushes a pretty shade of pink. “I feel good in it,” she says quietly, tucking her lip between her teeth, and I feel my chest tighten.
Instead of addressing it, though, I throw her a wink and head downstairs with the promise of peanut butter toast in lieu of her precious Nutter Butters. I’ll have to see if Nat can make her some.
After we eat in bed, we brush the crumbs out and climb back in. Bellies full, bodies sated, rain starts to fall softly outside, the drizzle of it hitting the skylights and creating a cozy atmosphere. I’m about asleep when she speaks, voice quiet in the low light from the lamp in the corner.
“Three birds?” she asks.
I crack open a sleepy eye. She’s running her fingers over my tattoo of three sparrows. “One for each of my sisters.”
Surprise lights her gaze when she looks up at me. “Under that cocky exterior, you’re a big ol’ softie.”
I laugh, the movement shaking the bed. “Keep that shit to yourself. I have a reputation to uphold.”
She smacks my chest playfully. “And these?”
I glance down at the buck and doe grazing under a tree that takes up most of my ribs on that side. “My parents.”
She tucks her fist under her chin, resting it on my chest to look at me.
“Do you have one for Hank and Hudson, too?” I nod and lift my arm. “This one’s for Hank,” I say, showing her the upside-down horseshoe on the underside of my forearm.
Her brows scrunch in confusion. “Isn’t it bad luck to have it upside down?”
I nod. “For most people, yeah. But for as long as I can remember, Hank has always said ‘Luck doesn’t matter; hard work does’.”
She smiles, sleepy and beautiful. “Sounds like him.”
