Solid
It was the middle of the night again when Luke rolled, taking me over the top of him, settling me on the other side of the bed.
“Why do you do that?” I mumbled sleepily.
I was about to fall back to sleep, feeling his hand tag the back of my knee and pull it over his hip when he murmured, voice husky, “You’re on the wrong side of the bed.”
I cuddled into him, sliding into dreamland. “Then I’ll sleep on this side.”
I was so out of it, I didn’t realize all that my words said nor what it meant when, upon hearing them, Luke’s arms went tight around me, pulling me deep into his body.
“This side’s the wrong side too,” he told me.
That got my attention, because it made no sense.
I tilted my head back and looked at him in the dark. “What?”
“I can’t sleep on one side too long, the wound still gives me some pain.”
For some reason, I felt imaginary pain in my own belly at his words.
To hide my reaction, I stated the obvious, “Then just roll over.”
“If I roll over, you won’t be in arms reach.”
I blinked then, sleepy or not, I started to get angry. “Luke, I’m not going to sneak out of your bed in the middle of the night and do something stupid.”
“That’s not why I want you in reach.”
Whoa.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Stop right there.
Time to go to sleep.
I dipped my chin and closed my eyes. Then because I had Barlow Bitch Blood pumping through my veins, I muttered, “You do that with all your women, they’ll think you’re nuts.”
“I’ve never done it with another woman.”
Really.
Stop.
Time to nap for fifty years.
“Babe?”
“Yeah?”
“If you’re awake…”
I cuddled into him again. “Very sleepy,” I whispered, feigning a sleepy voice.
I felt his body start shaking with silent laughter and somehow, while he was laughing, I fell back to sleep.
* * * * *