Page 109 of Finding Denver

“A long time.”

The steam from the shower is escaping through the open door, but some still sits on my skin. “Did it hurt?” He nods.

I move my finger to the jagged line that separates the depiction of good and evil.

The sink water runs as Colt wets a spare toothbrush and puts it in his mouth.

“Did you sleep?” he asks, and I enjoy the idea of hearing him ask me that every day.

“Yep. Did you?” I slide my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek to his back. He rests his hand against both of mine as they pause on his abs.

“Better than I have in a long time,” he says, and I smile.

He finishes brushing his teeth, and I focus on my hands as he dresses.

One night. My words. My request.

The only option.

Colt lifts my chin so I meet his eye. “See you at family dinner?”

I force a smile. “You will.”

His sapphire eyes drop down the jersey I’m still wearing. “Are you taking that with you?”

I grin. “Am I allowed?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” He brushes my hair back, and I realize we didn’t kiss. All night, our lips didn’t brush once, and I wonder if he’ll kiss me now. Or maybe it’s best that he doesn’t.

“Do I get my underwear back?” I ask.

“Not a fucking chance.”

Chapter 29

Colt

Ishrug off my coat in the entryway, and Alistair does the same. Taf is already barreling through the living room of Finn’s house.

“I’m glad these dinners aren’t as regular as they used to be,” Alistair says. “I’m gonna have so much fucking heartburn.”

I grin in agreement as he follows Taf. Wesson comes bounding down the stairs and skids over to me, resting on my legs and slapping me with his tail as I rub his belly.

“You’re about to get fed tonight, dog.”

“He’s gonna be hovering around that dining table,” Denver says as she descends the stairs. She’s in blue jeans and a white knitted sweater. Fucking fuck, why does she have to look cute? Why couldn’t she look half dead, or have miraculously developed two heads? Instead, she looks like someone I want forever with.

For fuck’s sake.

Leaving her this morning was torture. Why didn’t I kiss her? Why did I leave her at all? We could have spent theentire day in bed enjoying each other, but instead, I ran. Coward. Fucking coward.

“Look at you,” I say, stamping on the urge to kiss her before she even reaches the bottom of the stairs. “You look like a Hallmark movie’s dream.”

She laughs. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”

“Nothing, Big City Girl. When do you get Dream Job and meet Small Town Boy?”

Denver tuts and elbows me as we walk to the dining room. “I look damn cute, and you know it.”