Page 64 of P.S. I Miss You

Since I left a few weeks ago, he’s been embroiled in a custody battle over his brother. I guess he tried to pursue this once before, many years ago, and his father made it impossible, refusing to give up any rights and always putting on a good show any time someone from the state came to investigate Tucker’s living situation.

Sutter wasn’t sure what to expect this time around, and he hasn’t been too vocal about any of it. I haven’t pressed. I figure if he wants to talk about it, he’ll talk about it. I’m sure it’s on his mind twenty-four seven. He doesn’t need me bringing it up, forcing him to rehash everything.

“We had a preliminary hearing this morning,” he says. His hands slide under my thighs and I wrap my legs around his sides. “So far, so good.”

“He’s not fighting it?”

Sutter’s eyes rest in mine, like he needs to take me in for a second, and then he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry.” I swat my hand. “You came all this way … We don’t have to talk about this. I just thought you had court today, so … seeing you here … in my hotel … I’m just in shock.”

I kiss him before he has a chance to respond, and his lips taste like spearmint and cherry Chap Stick.

Sliding down his sides, I don’t take my eyes off him for one second, irrationally sure that if I did, he’d disappear.

“We’re going to have to get a spare key from the lobby,” I say, nodding behind me toward the locked hotel room door. Sliding my hand into his, I’m prepared to lead him to the elevator so we can head downstairs, but his feet remain planted. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I stifle a chuckle as he takes me in like he’s seeing me for the first time again.

Sutter takes a step closer, narrowing the space between us, and he breathes me in.

“It’s been a long day, Melrose. A long week—a long three weeks.” He closes his beautiful eyes and exhales, pressing his forehead against mine for a moment. “It’s just really good to see you again.”

“Did you miss me?” I wink.

His mouth inches up at one side and his hand slides along my jaw. My heart catches in my throat the instant his lips graze mine.

“Like hell,” he says. “I missed you like hell.”

I want to ask him how long he’s staying and where his luggage is. I want to ask if he’ll visit again. I want to ask if he had this planned all along or if he spontaneously bought a ticket today after finishing court. I also want to ask where Tuck is, who’s caring after him … but all that matters in this moment is that he’s here.

Sutter kisses me again, his mouth hot and his body pinning mine against the wall. The outline of his hardness brushes against my hips and the hallway grows ten thousand degrees hotter.

It’s just us here, in our own little world (or at least it feels that way) and someone walking by or Snap Chatting our little make out session is the last thing on my mind.

But all those couldn’t-care-less thoughts come to a scrambling halt when the familiar sound of Murphy’s little black nails scratching at the door steal the show.

I peel myself off him. “We really need to get that key.”

He smiles, scratching at his temple and taking a step back. “Yeah.”

I drag him to the elevator and press the button for the lobby, never once releasing his hand from mine. But to be fair, he’s holding mine just as tight.

The second the doors close, he corners me, stealing another kiss. From my periphery, I catch glimpses of us in the mirrors that line the inside of the elevator. Watching us getting hands-y from all angles is kind of hot …

It isn’t until a woman clears her throat do we realize we’re no longer alone. We must have picked up another guest on one of the floors on the way down.

I lift my fingers to my swollen lips and exchange a bitten smirk with my boyfriend. The woman eyes us from the side, holding her nose high, and then promptly steps out of the elevator the second we’re deposited outside the lobby.

Padding across the marble floor in bare feet, I sheepishly make my way to the front desk.

“Locked out, Ms. Claiborne?” the clerk asks.

“Something like that.” I wink.

“One minute, please.” He squints as his long fingers tap the keyboard, and then he retrieves a plastic keycard from a drawer before scanning it. “There you are.”

“Thank you,” I mouth before spinning on my heel and returning to a grinning Sutter.

Within minutes, we’re back in my hotel room. I’m fighting off yawns and trying to ignore the fact that my phone alarm is set for four AM.

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