I Flipping Love You (Shacking Up #3)(50)

“The Mission Mansion,” she replies without hesitation.

“Why the Mission Mansion?” It’s gorgeous and eclectic, one of the largest homes on the beach, but it’s in need of some serious renovations and repairs. From what I understand, the owners spend most of their summer in Europe, so it’s gone mostly unused and ignored for the better part of the last decade, which is sad.

She drags her fingers along the surface of the water, cre ating ripples. “Marley and I used to spend a lot of time there in the summers when we were teenagers.”

“Really? You knew the previous owners?”

She’s quiet for a few seconds before she replies, “My grandparents did.”

I’m only semi-surprised by this answer. There’s something refined about Rian that I can’t quite pin down. “It must’ve been amazing inside.”

“It is. Or at least it was.” Her smile is wistful, almost sad. “It holds a lot of special memories for me. I’d hate to see it get any more rundown than it already is.”

“Do you think it will ever go on the market?” From the little I know about the property, the last time it changed hands was about a decade ago, but I never paid particularly close attention to the place other than to admire it. It’s unfortunate that it sits vacant now.

“Maybe one day. It’s a pipe dream, anyway. I’ll never have the capital for that place.” For a moment she looks so forlorn, before she gives me one of her soft, questioning smiles. “What about you? What property are you most interested in?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t given it much thought. I think the more rundown the better, though. I like fixing broken things.”

She mutters something I don’t catch.

“What was that?”

“I’m turning into a prune.” She rises from the tub, water sluicing down her gorgeous, naked body. “And I’m still itchy.”

Fifteen minutes later Rian is facedown on my mattress. No, we’re not having sex. I’m atoning for my sins by rubbing Benadryl cream on her bug bites. The sheer number is insane. They cover her shoulders, her calves, and the back of her thighs. I keep running my palms up and down, and then higher, up the back of her legs. She moans when I knead her ass. There are bites there too, so it’s an area that needs attention.

“What’re you doing?” Her voice is raspy, groggy.

“Trying to keep you comfortable.”

“I think you’re trying to cop a feel.”

“I can do both, can’t I? I think they call it multitasking.”

She snorts a tired laugh.

My pillow is going to smell like her tomorrow. My whole bed is. And tonight I’m going to bask in the scent of Rian, because she’s going nowhere. She’s half asleep already, body languid, arms loose at her sides.

When I’m done taking care of the bites, she snuggles into me, tired and spent, I consider that this is moving way too fast. We’re like two trains on the same track, heading for each other. A collision is imminent. But I can’t find it in me to care.





CHAPTER 16

RELATIONSHIP GOALS





RIAN


I’m floating on a cloud. A warm cloud. A very cozy, warm cloud that smells deliciously of aftershave.

I open my eyes and remember that I’m not in my own bedroom. But then I realize I’m also not in the bedroom of the beach house rental either. It takes about three seconds for all the pieces to fit together. And then memories of last night slam into me; sex on the beach, the sand fleas, the bath, talking, his bed, a rubdown that did not include sex, and then sleep, blissful, blissful sleep.

I’m using Pierce’s arm as a pillow. Slowly I turn my head to the right. The sheets hang low on his hips, his hand is under the covers, possibly cradling his junk.

I can’t believe I stayed the night. I can’t believe he was actually serious about the post-sex cuddling. Or that it appears it lasted through the entire night.

I check the clock on the nightstand. It’s already eleven thirty. I haven’t slept this late since I was a teenager.

“Morning.” Pierce’s deep, raspy sleep voice draws my gaze back to him. His one visible eye is barely a slit.

“Hi.” My stomach twists a little, uncertain as to how this is going to go.

He smirks, tongue peeking out as he wets his lips. “I cuddled the fuck out of you all night.”

I laugh. “That you did.”

“You know what that means, don’t you?” He wraps his arm around me and pulls me closer. “It means we’re dating.”

I tip my chin up so I can see his face. His hair is a mess and he has pillow lines on his cheek. “How do you figure?”

“We had a sleepover and we spooned pretty much the entire night. Plus, we had a bath together, and I’ve taken care of you and all your bug bites, so that totally qualifies as dating behavior.”

I settle a palm on his chest and feel the steady thump of his heart. I’m surprisingly not freaked out by this thought. “I suppose that makes logical sense.”

His sleep-heavy eyes crinkle at the corners. “So you agree that we’re dating?”

“You didn’t really give me much of an opportunity to disagree, did you?”