Making It Last (Camelot 4)

Tony smiled, remembering the red welt across the back of her legs and the fury in her eyes when she’d tackled him.

“We had sex after that?”

He groaned. “I can’t believe you don’t remember. It was the best sex of my whole entire life.”

“That must have been with your other wife.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I’ve only got the one wife, bun.”

“Well, then I was probably asleep.”

“You weren’t asleep. You scratched my back up like crazy, and then I forgot all about it, and one of the guys saw it when I got something on my shirt at the office and had to change out of it. He still asks how my wildcat’s doing when I see him.”

“Who does?” She sounded scandalized.

“Nate Parker.”

“I don’t remember him.”

“He has red hair.”

“With the beard?”

“Yeah.”

“God, that explains it. He gives me looks.”

“Sorry, babe. It’s not my fault. I was sex-stoned for, like, two days after that night. Couldn’t operate heavy equipment. You’re lucky I didn’t drive into a quarry somewhere and drown.”

“Just because I scratched you?”

He rolled to his side so he could wrap his other arm around her and see her face. “Because you were hot, and you’re you, and because you couldn’t decide if you were mad at me or if you thought I was funny, so we did both—laughed and fought. And fucked. It was awesome.”

“That sounds kind of kinky. I’m glad I slept through it.”

He kissed her forehead. “We can do it again sometime in the next ten years. See if you like it.”

“Next time, I’ll smack you across the back of the legs with the towel.”

“It’s a deal.”

They laid there for a minute, looking into each other’s eyes, and the room seemed to expand, the walls falling away until there was nothing but them and the bed. Their bodies adrift in the open sea of the night, the soft sounds of their breathing.

This bed their boat.

He found her hand and held it, and when he inhaled the air went all the way down into the bottom of his lungs for the first time in so long, because he knew for certain that wherever they were going, they would get there.

They were safe and dry, and they had each other. They had the kids.

They had so much more than he’d ever thought he would be able to have.

“You know what I want to hear about?” he asked.

“What’s that?”

“I want to hear what you’re doing in ten years.”

“Trying to keep the boys from getting anybody pregnant.”