For Seven Nights Only - Sarah Ballance Page 0,50

gasping for air.

After a long moment she spent trying to catch her breath, he reached to find her hand and wound his fingers through hers. She peered over the edge of the sofa and was rewarded with a lazy, sated smile that made her feel all gooey inside. “I think you have my pants,” he said.

She glanced down and found that she’d somehow managed to work her leg into them. “This is unusual,” she said, and immediately regretted it. Unusual for her was probably an everyday thing for him.

She attempted to kick her leg free and only managed to dislodge a trio of condoms from his pocket, which landed on his chest.

“I guess you thought I needed a lot of practice,” she muttered.

Using her hand for leverage, he sat and focused those brilliant green eyes on her. “Baby, you don’t need anything.”

“Except a date to my sister’s wedding.” Maybe he’d offer. It was, after all, just one date. On a boat. In the harbor.

But no dice. He completely ignored her reference, instead cradling her face and kissing her so sweetly and thoroughly that she ached all over again. When he broke free, the look in his eyes was not that of a man who’d just had another bout of casual sex on the premise of giving dating tips.

It was the look of someone who cared.

It was freaking relationship sex. Sex in which they’d moved furniture and he’d fallen on the floor. And…

“Tell me my dog is not humping my throw pillow.”

Sawyer turned to follow her gaze, and sure enough, Marmaduke was going to town on a pillow that had, until very recently, been on the sofa.

“Is that what I looked like?” Sawyer asked. “Because that’s some nice hip action.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“Hey, don’t hate. For a little guy with no balls, he’s rocking it.”

Kelsie rolled her eyes and fell back on the sofa.

“I’ll be right back, sweetness. Might want to deal with whatever is happening on that stove.”

Great. It had taken her half the day to make something even remotely resembling what his mother had whipped together in considerably less time, and already she’d ruined the gravy. Now her caramelized onions were probably mush.

Not. Unlike. Her.

With a sigh, she stood and made a half-assed attempt to straighten her skirt. She washed her hands in the kitchen sink, then surveyed the damage to the meal. The roast was still in the oven, and it looked okay, but she’d completely forgotten to start the baked potatoes and hadn’t begun to prep the salad. That was probably the one dish she could make, but it hardly counted since it didn’t require heat.

Her gazed touched on the flowers, and they took her back to the night they’d met. It felt like a lifetime ago, and in truth he’d dominated every moment since. He’d so fully made himself a part of her world that she couldn’t remember what it was like before him. Just her, Marmaduke, and her sister’s endless wedding details. Not that they had much to do with her. As maid of honor, Kelsie probably should have been overrun with obligations, but her sister was such a control freak that she had to handle every detail herself.

Except the stupid bachelorette party. Kelsie had managed to book the club, but she wasn’t looking forward to attending. There was no way she could ever hit that scene again and not think of Sawyer. Or climb a wall. Or walk her dog. Her little affair—scratch that, arrangement—had ruined everything, and his latest lesson had only proven that. At no previous point in her life had she had sex without some measurable degree of self-doubt, but they’d just gotten tangled and moved furniture across the room while dinner failed and her dog humped a pillow and she ended up with a leg threaded in his pants. Some part of that should have been awkward, but it had been…perfect.

At least until she started overthinking it, and once it was over, she’d have nothing to do but think. And remember what he said about her to his brothers. She wandered into the bathroom and took out her contacts. She felt a smidge of comfort putting her glasses back on, but the edge of clarity they provided wasn’t enough.

By the time they’d both reentered the room, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry or kick something. “Can I ask you something?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Sure.”

She studied his face, so playful and devilish and…warm. God, he was like home, only