slow and rasping, “Happy Easter. Is that what you say?”
She kissed his chest and stilled her tracing finger. “Yes, you heathen. What, you don’t read the icing before you eat your chocolate?”
“I glance,” he murmured dryly. “The eating part has always taken priority.”
Apparently, the hours of conflicting nerves writhing around in her stomach could’ve been dealt with hours ago, if she’d only woken Evan up. All of a sudden, she felt just fine.
“Evan,” she said. She had no idea what she was doing. Something close to panic rose in her like a flood, except it wasn’t panic, not at all—it shared the same sharpness, but it held delicious sweetness too.
He raised his brows. “Yeah?”
And, since she wouldn’t say it at all if she didn’t blurt it out, Ruth mumbled, “UmmmmIloveyou.”
She’d expected him to look at least a little surprised, but he didn’t; not at all. She might have been insulted by that, if it weren’t for the pleasure spreading over his face, as warm and unstoppable as the morning sunrise had been.
“What was that?” he asked, his eyes dancing. She slid her fingers into his beard and pulled. He twisted his head to bite gently at her hand. “I didn’t hear you,” he insisted. “Go on.”
“Bugger off.”
He tweaked her nose. “Is that what you said? It sounded more like—”
“Oh, be quiet.”
He shook his head, smile wider than ever. “I don’t think that was it, either.”
“I love you! Okay?”
Evan’s eyes were all soft heat, his movements slow. He wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her closer, until their faces were level. Then he whispered, “That’s good. Because I am hopelessly in love with you too.”
And then he kissed her. He kissed her hard, for a very long time, and eventually the kissing became touching, and the touching became sighing, and stroking, and rubbing, and gasping. And by the time all was said and done, they’d wasted a solid hour being desperate, love-sick fools, which she’d very much enjoyed.
But Ruth made herself push away the vestiges of worn-out pleasure like a comforting blanket, one eye on that slice of sunlight streaking through the curtain.
“Come on,” she said, sitting up reluctantly. The loss of his firm, comforting muscle against her side was eternally sigh-worthy, but needs must. “Let’s get ready.”
He slid a hand over her belly. “We’ve got time.”
“I haven’t. If I don’t do my hair before church, Mum will kill me.”
“About that,” he said slowly, sitting up.
Ruth raised her brows. “About my hair?”
“No,” he smiled. “About your mother.”
“What about her?”
“Well, is she—? I mean, should I…”
Ruth watched him search for words, affection spreading through her chest. He looked quite adorably hesitant. She took pity on him and said, “Are you trying to ask if she’s like me and Hannah?”
He was visibly relieved. “Yes, actually.”
She laughed as she stood, not bothering to cover her nudity. His eyes slid over her body as she searched the floor for her pyjamas. She bit back a smile. “My mother is very nice.”
“What does that mean?” he asked, scepticism dripping from his voice.
“Honestly, take it at face value. She’s nice.” Ruth found her pyjamas and went to the bed, pressing a quick kiss against his furrowed brow. “You’ll be fine. Now I’m going next door to sort my hair out.”
He laid back against the pillows. “See you in a sec, kitten.”
“Bye,” Ruth called over her shoulder. She checked her phone as she made the increasingly unnecessary journey from Evan’s flat to her own.
Of course, it wasn’t Ruth who’d started bringing her things to Evan’s. It was him.
You’ll need them in the morning, he’d say, and grab some pyjamas from her drawer. Or, Might as well keep it at mine, and then he’d pick up something like her toothbrush or her phone charger, and the best part was that he thought he was being subtle.
She’d never thought a man would want her things littered across his space, but apparently Evan did.
Ruth checked her texts with one hand as she headed to the bathroom, unwinding the band from the end of her braid. She had a text from Penny, which had been a regular occurrence since Ruth had written her number on that volunteering form. The first text had said:
Ruth,
Just to let you know, your DBS check is ongoing. :) Once it’s done you can start right away!
Penny :)
Ruth had replied, with coaching from Evan—because texting Marjaana, her best friend, was one thing, but texting someone new felt like a test she’d almost certainly fail.