In the Weeds (Lovelight #2)(69)

A yawn creaks my jaw and Beckett noses at my hair, curling his fingers around my mug before I can drop it. He places it in the sink and comes back to me, bracing himself with his arms on the countertop. I find the galaxy on the inside of his bicep and trace the color.

“Come to bed with me,” he says, his voice a rough whisper. I lean into him until my chin is on his shoulder and the whole top half of my body is resting on his. I could fall asleep, just like this. It would probably be the best sleep of my life.

“I don’t think I have another round in me.”

Beckett shakes his head and guides me off the stool, directing me towards his room with a gentle pat on my ass.

“Neither do I,” he agrees. He drops a kiss to the back of my head and walks us forward, knees bumping against the back of mine. “I want to feel you next to me. Just sleep.”

I’m too tired to pretend that’s not exactly what I want, too. I twist my fingers through his and nod. “Just sleep sounds really nice.”





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN





BECKETT





I wake to Evelyn sprawled across me, her thigh tossed over my hips and her nose at my shoulder. I smooth my hand down her bare back and watch as she shifts closer, a single beam of morning light dancing down her skin. I chase the light with my touch, my thumb easing over brown skin and her nose scrunches, a huff in her sleep as she rolls and settles again.

I love how she looks beneath my sheets—the gentle curve of her hip and the dip at her waist. The graceful line of her arm across her bare breasts. She looks like a piece of art. Painted with oils and pressed into canvas with rough fingertips. Bold strokes of burnished gold and rich plum and deep, forest green.

Despite my insistence that all we’d do is sleep, I woke up before dawn to soft fingers grazing against my stomach, searching kisses in the dark. I had pulled her over me and touched her until she was breathless, hands tugging at my clothes. A lick of heat curls against the base of my spine as I remember the sound she made as I sunk into her that second time. A low moan. Pure, unadulterated relief.

Desire pulses hot and I dig the palms of my hands against my eyes until I see spots. I need to get out of this bed if I have any hope of getting anything done today. I still feel desperate for her, needy for her sounds and touches and body.

For the way she looks at me. For her laugh and smile and careful attention.

I flip back the blankets and slip from the bed, Evie immediately rolling into my space. I drop a kiss between her shoulder blades.

Her hand tangles briefly in my hair, a gentle tug and then a soothing rub with the pads of her fingers against my scalp. A deep, satisfied sound rumbles low in my chest. Evie grins into the pillow.

“Like a cat,” she mumbles.

I nudge my head further into her hand playfully and she pushes me away. “Pancakes,” she says with a sigh. “Bacon.” She still hasn’t bothered with opening her eyes.

“Alright,” I trace the swell of her cheek with my thumb. I want to bottle up this moment, her body soft and sweet beneath my sheets, the sounds of the house settling around us. Tree branches scratching at the windows and floorboards yawning in the hallway. “Let’s start with coffee and go from there.”

I’d make her pancakes and bacon and a fucking all-you-can-eat buffet—anything she wanted if she told me she wanted to stay. But I push that thought away as quickly as it enters my mind. Bury it deep. It’s wishful thinking in the worst of ways. Evie is too big to be contained by a place like Lovelight. Far too bright to be tucked away on a small-town farm. I won’t have her lose her shine because—because I can’t stand to see her go.

I glance at her smile tucked into my pillow, her fingertips tracing mindless lines against my tattoos.

“Meet you in the kitchen,” she tells me, already halfway back to sleep, foot twitching out from beneath the flannel blankets. I pull the curtains closed on my way out the door and scoop my discarded pants from the floor, stepping into them as I wander down the hall. The cats ignore me completely, content with their place in the sun beneath the window.

“Nice to see you, too.”

Comet rolls onto her back, her tiny paw waving briefly in the air.

I busy myself with starting the coffee and setting out the ingredients for pancakes, a deep soreness between my shoulder blades and in the back of my thighs. I have two twin scratch marks at the curve of my ribs—a souvenir from the second time, when I pressed my thumb between her legs and her hands curled into fists against my sides.

Sleeping with Evelyn last night probably wasn’t the best idea. I’m only falling deeper into this thing between us. I’m afraid that when she leaves this time, she’s going to be taking all of the important parts of me with her.

But I’m tired of holding myself back. Tired of pretending I don’t want her in every possible way. On my porch and at my table and in my bed. I’ve never been so greedy for a woman in my entire life.

It’s Evie.

I never stood a chance.

I want to talk to her about her day and then fuck her senseless up against the wall. I want to make her grilled cheese and tomato soup and then spread her out on my table.

A light, musical ring interrupts my thoughts and I glance over my shoulder at the table. Evelyn’s laptop is propped open at the corner, a spiral notebook just beneath. My eyes shift down the hall and back again, the ring cutting off abruptly.