Page 25 of Faux Beau

She covered his mouth. “Please don’t. I don’t want this to end on a sorry.”

A little part of her said she didn’t want to end this at all. Which was ludicrous. She had a precious few weeks to go through her sister’s things and build up the confidence to get to the top of Vista Peak without throwing up, passing out, or spiraling into panic. Then she’d have to figure out what to do with her life. Go back to New York and the city she adored? Move to San Francisco to be closer to her parents? Or stay in Sierra Vista? While she loved the city and carried this enormous weight to take care of her parents, there was something comforting about the cabin.

So while this Scotsman had jump-started her vagina, she’d have to let it sit idle for now.

“Check your messages and I’ll go make us some coffee,” she said, and before he could convince her to play a game of tongue tickle, she tried to squeeze out from under him with the blanket in tow. He didn’t make it easy, the jerk. The moment she stood up, he yanked the sheet back, leaving them both naked.

Predictable Milly would have shrieked, but Naughty Milly didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. She stood tall, shoulders back and, with the girls perky and up front, she sashayed around the bed. And instead of bundling up like she was headed out into a snowstorm, she picked up his shirt off the floor and slid it over her shoulders like it was red silk. She cocked a hip like she knew what she was doing and the material parted like curtains, giving him a peek of what was behind it.

“I fucking knew it.” He ran a hand down his face and groaned with appreciation. “I say we skip the coffee and messages and you come back to bed so I can give you a proper good morning, slowly and thoroughly.” He patted the space next to his very naked, very hard body, and she nearly wept.

“How about I start the coffee and after that we can see how fast you can unbutton this with your teeth.” She buttoned the bottom two buttons.

Clearly comfortable in the buff, he stood in one fluid motion and came toward her like a hungry grizzly looking for its next meal.

“Or maybe we use this,” he grabbed a scarf off the hook and slid it around her waist, pulling her to him until she was flush with his body, “as a blindfold and I get a little revenge.”

She shivered. Revenge never sounded so good.

“Would there be kissing?”

“Angel, there’d be a hell of a lot more than ki—”

Ping.

He grunted. Frustration furrowed that cute crease in his forehead.

“Go.” She encouraged. “This can wait.”

“This can’t.” He cupped her ass and yanked her to him until his impressive erection was pressed against her belly.

Ping.

“Don’t move.” With an irritated grunt, he picked the phone up off the bed and read the screen. He looked up at the ceiling as if seeking divine intervention.

“Everything alright?”

“Just family,” he said, a hint of exhaustion in his tone. “Seems my asshole brother called a mandatory meeting at the lodge. We all have to be there in thirty minutes.”

“Oh.” She pulled the shirt shut and suddenly everything came back to her. The bar, the night, the sex, the morning after which was destined to end, because that was the definition of a one-night stand—come sunup, the magic disappeared. “Why don’t you use my shower to wash up and I’ll fix you something quick to eat before you go.”

His expression went carefully blank. She couldn’t read a thing off him except that his shoulders had tensed. “You don’t have to do that.”

Was there some code about what a breakfast-after translated into that she was missing? Was she making what should be a breezy goodbye awkward? “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just thought you might need some calories to fuel that big, muscly, manly body.”

His smile was back, genuine and amused, curling as if always on the edge of laughter. “Muscly and manly, huh?”

She grabbed a towel from the closet and playfully threw it at him. “Go shower. I’ll whip up some eggs. If you decide to eat them, cool. If not, then more for me.”

She turned to leave, and he caught her hand. “Eggs sound perfect,” he said, then placed the tenderest kiss on her lips.

She watched him walk into the bathroom, his glorious ass on display, and she didn’t bother to hide her interest. And when he gave a little backside shimmy, the laugh that escaped was warm and full and free.

When was the last time she’d felt so free?”

With a little shimmy of her own, she headed toward the kitchen. As always, the first thing to draw her attention was a collage of family photos stuck to the refrigerator door with magnets from every state they’d visited together—including Hawaii where they learned to surf. Well, Zoe learned. For Milly it was more of a man-overboard kind of experience. Instead of sorrow, her heart warmed with memories. Some sad, but most of them happy.

When Zoe had received the tragic diagnosis, she’d decided she wanted to live her life full of adventure and low on regret. Zoe being Zoe, she had come up with adventurous things she wanted to accomplish before she passed, like ski-diving naked or hitting the slopes dressed like Snow-Bunny Barbie—a task Milly was determined to get right. Zoe wanted to do anything that involved heights, which terrified Milly. But she was determined to finish every single one in honor of her sister. Like hiking Vista Peak.

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