Waiting for Willa (Big Sky, #3)(24)



“I learned that last year,” Max says, shaking his head. “I wanted to add a boathouse, and the city threw a fit.”

“Don’t you have a boathouse?”

“No, I have a covered lift, which is okay. But I’d like to store the boats out of the elements on my property in the winter. A boathouse is the most efficient way to do that.”

I nod as if I understand. There are moments when I’m reminded just how wealthy Max is.

“But we’re not talking about my boathouse.” He reaches out and twists a strand of my hair around his finger. “Tell me more about your house.”

“Well.” I clear my throat. “It’s finally just the way I want it. The new kitchen and master bathroom went in last year. I tore down the walls that separated the kitchen and main living area because I wanted an open concept. The beam that I had to put in was not cheap, but so worth it.”

“It’s beautiful,” he agrees, looking around the space. “I like the farmhouse feel.”

“Well, it’s no mansion on the lake, but we like it.”

“Don’t do that,” Max says softly. “What you’ve built here is impressive and beautiful. It has your heart in it. That’s more than I can say about my house at the lake.”

“You’re right,” I reply with a nod. “I am proud of my home. And I’m glad you like it.”

His eyes are pinned to mine as he leans in and brushes his lips over my own, back and forth, then he sinks in, kissing me lazily. His lips are soft, taking my mouth on the dance of a lifetime.

Max always did know how to kiss the pants off me.

Suddenly, there’s an extra slurp, right on our lips.

“Hey, buddy, you’re messing with my mojo here,” Max says, petting Rocky on the head. Rocky doggy-grins and boosts himself up to kiss my chin.

“Yes, you like to kiss.” I plant one on the puppy’s cheek. “Don’t you?”

“I think it’s time for this little guy to go back into his crate for a bit.”

Max’s eyes are shining, and I know exactly what he’s talking about.

“No more interruptions,” I say as I stand with Rocky in my arms. I take him outside so he can relieve himself and then get him settled in his crate. He lets out a little bark but then discovers his chew bone.

When I walk back into the living room, Max is gone.

I frown. “Max?”

“Back here,” he calls out from the direction of my bedroom. I hurry back there and smile when I see him leaning his shoulder on the doorframe of my bathroom. “I wanted to see your handiwork.”

“Ah.” I press my cheek against his back in the groove of his spine and sigh in happiness at his warmth. My arms are wrapped around his middle, pressed against his flat belly.

He’s just…hard. Firm. Warm.

Irresistible.

“What do you think of it?” I press a kiss to his shoulder blade.

“Just like the rest of the house, it’s beautiful.”

Claw-foot soaking tub. Subway tile shower. Heated Moroccan tile floor.

I freaking love my bathroom.

“I’m glad you like it.”

I press another kiss to his back just before he turns in my arms, frames my face in his hands, and lowers his lips to mine.

We’re standing in my dark bedroom, kissing as if our lives depend on it.

Over the past week, we’ve only been able to steal kisses here and there when Alex wasn’t looking.

But now, no one is here but us.

The nervousness is gone, and all I want in the world is Max.

“Wills,” he whispers against my mouth.

“Yeah.”

“I need to get you naked.”

I smile because it’s the same line he used back in the day when I gave him my virginity.

That was a lifetime ago.

“Okay,” I whisper, just as I did back then.

“Are you on the pill?”

“IUD,” I reply. “And clean.”

“Me, too.” His hands glide down my arms, and he links his fingers with mine. “Are you sure about this?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure of anything in my life.”

That line is new and absolutely true.

He smiles softly. He slips his hands under my sweater, skims them up my sides, and pulls the top over my head, tossing it on the floor.

“My body has changed,” I warn him.

“So has mine,” he says.

“Well, where you’ve gotten hotter, and thank the good Lord for it, I’ve had a baby.”

“You’re amazing,” he replies, guiding my jeans down my legs, not worried in the least. Which only makes me love him more because I know, without a doubt, those aren’t just pretty words being said to get in my pants.

Max means every syllable.

With my clothes gone, he steps back and takes me in. The light from the bathroom is the only illumination in the room, but it’s enough for him to see me.

In the past, I would have moved to cover myself.

But not now.

Not with him.

“Jesus, Wills.”

“What?” I glance down and cringe. “I know, these stretch marks are wild. They’re not nearly as bad as they were after I first had Alex—”

Kristen Proby's Books