The Promise of Us (Sanctuary Sound #2) - Jamie Beck Page 0,86

streaky mess, and there was a big pileup right in front of me. I panicked so bad I thought I was having a heart attack.”

“I’m sorry. That sounds awful.” He sat beside her and dragged her into a hug. “You should’ve called me.”

When she harrumphed against his chest, he asked, “How’d you finally get home?”

“Steffi and Ryan picked me up in Meriden,” she mumbled. “I was mortified. She drove my car back for me.”

“This is my fault.” He tipped up her chin and kissed her with tenderness that came from the farthest reaches of his heart. “I’ve been pushing you too hard, too fast.”

“Don’t.” She glowered. “Don’t say that like I’m a lapdog with no choice in what happens to me. I thought at least I could count on you not to coddle me like everyone else does.”

“Sorry.” He held up his hands, uncertain of how to comfort her without making her feel worse. “I didn’t mean to upset you more.”

She punched the seat cushion. “I’m upset with myself for letting things get to this point.” Those blue eyes flickered with self-loathing, which bothered him to see. “This weak, scared woman isn’t who I ever wanted to be. It isn’t who I thought I was or even realized I’d become. Not until you . . .”

His chest took the blow. “Pointed it out . . .”

“You didn’t let me finish.” She held his gaze. “Not until you challenged me. You pushed me, but I don’t regret going to New York or Newport, or painting outside the lines. I’ll cherish those memories.”

“So you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive.” She took his face in her gentle hands. “Your bluntness punched through everything. Got me to take a couple chances. I honestly don’t know when—if—I’ll try again, but today did feel great when I started out.”

He yanked her onto his lap, her petite frame fitting perfectly against his larger one. “If that’s true, don’t let one small setback stop you. Push harder. Let’s ride up to Mystic and check out a prospective Prescott Inn. I’ll get us a room.” He brushed her hair away and nuzzled her neck. “I’ll be your muse.”

She let her head fall back and closed her eyes, making a breathy sound of approval before killing his plan. “If I can’t get there on my own, I can’t take on the project.”

“Then you drive. If you get uncomfortable, I’ll take over.”

She smiled at him. “Thank you, but no.”

Her exhausted expression made him ease up. “You don’t have to decide today. He’s not closing on the projects for several weeks, and he’s not making design a priority item.”

She craned her neck and kissed him. “Thank you for trying to help, but Steffi also has reservations about trying to manage a project of that scale. For now, we’ll stay focused on growing locally.”

“Okay.” He stroked her jaw and then trailed his fingers down her neck and over her breast. “But do I deserve a reward for my good intentions?”

She smiled, reaching out to unbutton his shirt. “I think I can come up with something to make you happy.”

“I’m certain of it.” He’d been damn happy all week. Quiet dinners followed by tender nights. The warmth of her body beside his, and the gentle smile that greeted him each morning and had him making up reasons to stick around town longer than planned.

He kissed her deeply. She still tasted like chocolate, which was no shock given her rough day. He started undressing her in the living room.

When she didn’t protest, liquid lightning shot through him. She worked quickly to shed his clothes, too, until they fell back onto the sofa in a tangle of arms and legs and hot, wet kisses.

“Claire,” he whispered.

They locked gazes as he moved inside her. Breaths mingling, hearts thumping, darkness settling around them until the only thing he could see was the soul in her eyes staring back at his.

His composure slipped until she reached up and joined her lips with his in an intense kiss that simultaneously bent and stopped time.

He rolled over so she could sit astride him. Her hair bounced, her cheeks flushed, and her well-kissed lips turned crimson as she rode the swell of emotion building inside him until it crested and broke apart, leaving him shuddering beneath her.

For a few quiet minutes, he held her. She shivered, so he pulled a throw blanket over her shoulders and then ran his fingers through her damp hair.

“Claire?”

“Hm?” she asked, her head still plastered against his