Ignite (Cloverleigh Farms #6)(66)

“Fuck yes, you do.”

“And I’m not scared of monsters under my bed anymore.” Then I laughed. “But there is this one ogre who likes to mess with me . . .”

“Ha.”

I gave him a quick kiss. “I’ll be right back. Can I use your bathroom?”

“Sure.”

When I came out, Dex was right where I left him, lying on his back in bed, but covered to the waist. His eyes were closed and his breathing was deep and slow, as if he was asleep.

Not wanting to wake him, I tiptoed around, hunting for my clothes.

“And where are you sneaking off to?”

I looked over at him. “I’m not sneaking. I just didn’t want to wake you.”

“Don’t go.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Huh?”

“Don’t go yet.”

“Why?”

He threw a pillow at me. “Because I’m not done messing with you.”

Laughing, I scooped up the pillow and brought it back to the bed. “I thought maybe it was against our rules to stay over.”

“Listen,” he said, taking my arm and pulling me under the covers. “Ogres don’t follow any fucking rules. When they want a princess in their bed, they just grab one.”

“Any one?”

“Their favorite one,” he clarified, flipping me beneath him. “And my favorite happens to be Princess Minnie.”

I laughed. “You never told me about the end to the story Hallie wrote.”

“It’s not over yet. She left me on a terrible cliffhanger.”

“What was it?”

“Princess Minnie’s cat, Tigger, ran up a tree, and she needs to ask Rex the Ogre for help to get the cat down, but she’s scared of him.” Dex lowered his head to my chest and kissed by breast, my collarbone, my throat.

“She doesn’t know him,” I said. “I’m sure he’s not that scary once she gets past his hideous, grotesque appearance.”

He bit my shoulder for that. “I asked if the ogre was really a prince in disguise.”

“And is he?”

“Nope. He’s really an ogre.” He kissed his way across my collarbone.

“Well, you know, princes are overrated.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. They’re handsome and rich, but they know it. They don’t even have to work to get the girl—girls are lining up at the castle door for them. But an ogre . . . an ogre has to woo his lady.”

He picked his head up. “Woo his lady? That sounds hard.”

“It is.” I wrapped my legs around him. “But you’re doing a good job so far. Don’t stop.”





I woke up with Dex’s naked body curled around mine, his arm wrapped around my waist, strong and solid. It was still dark, but I had no idea what time it was—I didn’t even want to look. Inhaling deeply, I let the scent of him swim around in my head, reluctant to move.

Again, I had second thoughts about leaving. Maybe we could have made this work. Despite the age gap, we were good together. I loved that he was gruff on the surface but had a soft side he kept hidden. I understood that—no one wants the world to see their weak spots or scars.

Although I’d shown him mine, hadn’t I?

Which was funny, really. I’d never even told Merrick about the monsters under my bed, or my mother abandoning us, or my fear of being unlovable. But something about Dex made me want to be vulnerable with him. I felt safe and— A tiny frisson of worry snuck up my spine.

Gently disentangling myself from his embrace, I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed.

“You leaving?” Dex’s voice was raw with sleep.

“Yeah. I should go home. I have to be at work early. My alarm is set.” Moving tentatively across the room, I felt around on the floor for my bra, finding it over by his dresser. Once it was hooked, I turned around, surprised to see him getting out of bed. “Dex, don’t get up.”

He said nothing, just pulled open a drawer and tugged on some sweats.

“Guess I left my clothes downstairs.”

He laughed. “Wait here. I’ll get them.”

A few minutes later, he walked me across the driveway in the dark to my door. Rising on tiptoe, I gave him a hug. “Thanks for the Thai food. And the woo.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Tomorrow I’ll text you the names of a couple pet adoption places.”

“Thanks.”

I unlocked the door. “Night.”

“Night.”

It wasn’t until I was halfway up the stairs that I realized we hadn’t said our usual parting lines to each other. I stopped and waited, expecting him to knock again so he could tell me he didn’t love me.

But the house stayed silent.





Nineteen





Dex





I raised my arm to knock on the door like I had last night, ready to make the joke again—tell her I didn’t love her.

But I couldn’t do it.

After what she’d told me tonight, I couldn’t do it. Lowering my hand, I stepped off her porch.

She didn’t need to hear those words tonight, not even as a joke. She’d trusted me with something fragile, and I didn’t want to trample on it. In fact, it was the opposite. I felt even more protective of her than I had before.