I climb down the ladder and meet her at the railing. I catch her face in my hands, holding her still so I can kiss her deeply.
Marry this woman.
God damn it, it’s just not that simple. She doesn’t trust easy. Yesterday she spooked when our conversation veered into the emotional space around her parents, and she practically demanded I fuck her out in the open to change the subject.
And I fucking did it. Took her virginity on the side of the road. Bent her over and talked in the crudest possible language about how fucking good she looked riding my dick.
No matter our connection, or what her sleepy confessions might suggest, I have to tread carefully.
“I slept in again,” she whispers against my mouth.
“Maybe you need the rest.”
She blushes. “Did we…in the middle of the night?”
“You climbed on top of me and rubbed yourself against me, if that’s what you mean.” I grin wickedly as she buries her face in her hands.
“I started that?”
“I can’t say for sure. I definitely took over at some point.”
“Did you…” She trails off, her face a complicated twist of emotions.
Something in my chest tugs hard. “I didn’t take advantage of you. We circled past third, but I didn’t get to home plate.”
Her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks, then she lifts her gaze. “So we still have one more condom?”
Pergola plans and the coffee mugs are both immediately abandoned.
We get just inside the doors before we’re peeling off clothes. My shirt hits the floor. Hers goes flinging across the room, hooking on one of the kitchen chairs.
As I hoist her into my arms and her mouth latches on to my neck, my gaze lingers on those chairs.
Two of them.
Why did I make two of everything in this cabin? Two chairs for outside, two for in the kitchen. If it was entertaining I had in mind, I’d have made more. If I really wanted to spend the rest of my life here, all by myself, I’d have only made one.
And it’s not just two random chairs, or two chairs built for me. One of them is my size, and the other is a perfect fit for the criminal Goldilocks I’m currently carrying to my bed.
Custom-built for her-before I ever laid eyes on her.
Abigail humming prettily at my table, shelling peas. Evenings spent outside on the deck, sharing a beer in front of a fire.This is what I was waiting for all this time.
Her.
I tumble her onto the bed and peel off her shorts. Her beauty takes my breath away and makes my dick hard. I crave her so much. Need to fuck her again. The fifth time we’ll have had sex in less than twenty-four hours.
But it’s not just sex.
It’ll be making love, and it means so much more than I could have imagined.
Fuck it. I catch her foot and kiss the inside of her ankle. I wish I had a ring or something to make this look better. “Marry me.”
She’s breathing hard, and she takes a second to respond. “Pardon?”
I set her foot down and give her a solemn look. “There’s something special between us.”
“We’ve just met.”