I’m just relieved that I saw Wolfe down there and could get to him and was able to get both of us up before he got seriously hurt.
“Thanks, Rose,” I whisper. “I owe you one.”
I smell roses for just a moment as if she’s saying, “You’re welcome.”
The adrenaline is wearing off. I lean my head back on the chair, still looking outside as I take a long, deep breath. I like knowing that Wolfe’s in the house with me. I hate that he’s hurting, but I really like having him here. The past two weeks sucked. I was fine the first couple of days that I didn’t hear from him. I knew he was busy. But then a few days turned into a week with no word, and then that turned into two.
And although I didn’t say anything to anyone, not even June because she would have hunted the man down and punched him in the nose, I was so sad. I’d decided that Wolfe had changed his mind and wasn’t interested in me.
I know better than to assume I know what’s going on in someone’s head.
I should have called him. Or sought him out.
But now I know better. And I understand what it’s like to be so consumed by what’s going on in my life that I forget to communicate with people I care about.
“I’m an overthinker,” I murmur and then let my heavy eyelids close.
Thirty minutes later, I wake and walk into the kitchen to make some tea and get dinner started. Before I found Wolfe on the cliffs, I’d planned to grill some steaks, but I think I’ll switch things up and make a hearty chicken soup with homemade bread.
I’ve just pulled the chicken out of the fridge when I see Wolfe walk into the room.
“Hey,” I whisper, not able to judge how he feels.
“You’re a miracle,” he says simply and walks right to me. He takes the chicken out of my hands and sets it aside, then wraps his arms around me and hugs me close.
“I take it you’re feeling better?” I ask as I lean my head on his chest, enjoying the way he holds me. “You didn’t sleep very long.”
“Better,” he confirms. “It wasn’t as bad as it could have been. I could use some water.”
“Of course.” I turn and pull a glass out of the cabinet, then fill it with filtered water from the fridge. “You scared me out there.”
“Scared me, too,” he says and gulps down the water.
I turn away to wash the chicken, but before I can, Wolfe’s arms encircle my waist from behind, and he buries his face in my neck.
“Thank you,” he whispers and then kisses me, just below my ear. “Thank you so much.”
I cover his hands with mine and tilt my head, giving him better access. “It’s okay.”
He kisses the top of my shoulder and then my neck again, and it sends tingles down my arms.
“I couldn’t hear you,” he whispers. “I couldn’t hear anything at all. And I couldn’t see. Fucking head. But you were there as if I’d conjured you from my imagination.”
“I think Rose warned me that you were in trouble.” I’m having a hard time forming words while his mouth does such delicious things to my skin. “Holy hell, that feels good.”
“You taste good,” he whispers. “You always taste so fucking good.”
His hands move up under my shirt and skim across my stomach, then up over my ribs. I turn in his arms so I can boost myself up onto my tiptoes and kiss him.
I’ve wanted him for weeks. And, finally, here he is, with no interruptions. All mine.
He boosts me up, but not onto the kitchen counter this time. No, he just carries me back to my bedroom, his hands planted on the globes of my butt before gently and oh so tenderly, laying me on the bed.
I reach out for him, but he takes my hand. With eyes the same color as the raging sea outside on mine, he kisses my palm and then pins it to the mattress over my head as he leans over to brush his nose against mine.
“We’re in no hurry, sugar,” he whispers and kisses me, long and deep. “I’m going to savor every moment of this. Every.” He kisses my nose. “Single.” Kisses my chin. “Moment.”
I groan and writhe beneath him, unable to lie still. My body has come alive, humming in anticipation as he drags that amazing mouth back to my neck.
“God, that’s my spot.” I moan.
“Your spot?” He smiles down at me. “What does that mean?”
“The spot that makes me nuts. You know, the spot.”
“Ah, that spot.” He kisses me there again, slower this time, and butterflies explode in my belly. “But have you ever considered that you might have more than just one?”