I closed my eyes tight and ordered, “Stop it. I have floral splendor and clean but decrepit gutters and I just had a fantastic orgasm. I’m not in the mood to cry.”
He lifted his head, kept some of his weight braced into a forearm in the bed while he framed one side of my face with his big hand. I knew with one look in his eyes he wasn’t in a teasing or bantering mood.
“Six years, laid in this bed, you up at the house, wantin’ this.” I pressed my lips together and stared in his eyes. “Dream come true.”
“Okay,” I forced out, the word sounding choked because it was. “Now I’m crying.”
And I was. I felt the tear slide out the side of my eye just as I felt Deacon catch it with the pad of his index finger.
“Don’t give a fuck if it’s three weeks or thirteen,” he declared. “You don’t hear from me, do not ever doubt where I want to be.”
God, I hoped it was never thirteen weeks.
I didn’t share that.
I said, “Same goes for you.”
He stared at me, right in the eyes, something working in his that was part what he was giving me, part something I didn’t understand.
I waited.
He shared no further. Just bent to touch his mouth to mine, pulled out, rolled off, moving me with him so I ended up on top.
“You wanna clean up?” he asked when he got us in our new position, both his hands now at my head, fingers moving against my temples to dry the moisture there.
“Yeah,” I said and it was croaky so I took a shuddering breath to get it together. “But I don’t provide towels, only sheets. So I’m gonna have to go to the house to get a washcloth. And I also don’t offer toilet paper, so I’ll get some of that too.”
His arms curved around me and tightened. “I’ll go to the house.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s okay. I’ll grab some munchies and my phone charger, seeing as the resident badass has decreed we’re spending the night in cabin eleven and my battery is low.”
The grooves around his mouth deepened but his arms didn’t loosen.
“I’ll get food and your charger too.”
“It’s okay, Deacon.”
“Did I say you’re naked in this bed for the rest of the day?”
I suppressed a smile and replied, “Yes.”
“So who’s goin’ to the house?”
The smile broke through. “You.”
He gave me another squeeze on his, “Yeah. Me.”
I bent my head to kiss him lightly then lifted it, muttering inanely, “Rethinking my decision to provide towels.”
“Don’t. Unnecessary hassle for you.”
That quick, firm advice got him a grin.
That grin faded when I informed him, “Just so you know, gotta keep my phone close, honey, just in case one of my customers needs me.”
He tilted his head slightly on the pillow and asked, “That happen a lot?”
I shrugged, lifting a hand so I could stroke his jaw with my thumb, mostly because I couldn’t stop myself from touching him, and gleefully because I didn’t have to try. “Currently, don’t have any demanding renters. But it’s not unusual.”