Page 24 of Infinite as They Come (Sinful Trilogy #3)

I put both bags down on the table, my hands finding either side of her face. She had such soft skin. Her big eyes blinked up at me, lashes fluttering, her dark hair cascading down her shoulders, and she looked so beautiful that I almost forgot to breathe for a second.

“I missed you,” I whispered. “So glad I get to come home to you, though.”

She smiled softly, her face turning to lean into my touch. “Well, I feel rather lucky too that it’s you who shows up at that door. You were gone for a long time.”

“I bumped into Spencer.” And I also looked at a house that was supposed to be perfect for us, that was supposed to be the place where we’d be forever, but I wasn’t going to settle for second best. Not for her. “He was walking home from school. We hung out.”

“Aw, so cute. What’d you guys do?”

“Well…” My brows rose. “I kinda taught him how to fight. He sorta begged me.”

“Wait, what?”

“Some kids were giving him a hard time again.”

A little pout graced her face. “Again? Really? Poor Spencer.”

“I know. He’s, like, the most adorable kid in the fucking world, and he gets bullied?”

Laughing softly, Holly sat up a little taller, her hands finding my chest. “It’s so cute to see you be all protective big brother. It’s sweet.”

“I just feel like I gotta look out for him,” I said with a frown, my hands tight on her waist. “I dunno, I guess I sorta see myself in him.”

“He’s lucky to have such a good big brother.”

Humming, I circled my arms around her, pulling her in closer. “I’m sorry I was gone so long.”

“No, it’s okay. You were helping him. How did it go?”

I shrugged. “He was pretty good, actually. He’s fast. Small, but fast. He clocked me in the stomach a couple times. I’m still recovering.”

“Aw, my poor boyfriend,” she said, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “Only you would teach your little brother how to fight. I hope those kids leave him alone now.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“How do you even teach someone how to fight?”

“It’s easier than it sounds,” I said, and then I smiled when I remembered what Spencer said earlier. “He asked me if you could teach him when I kept saying no.”

She snorted and buried her face in my neck. “Me? Really?”

“Mhm. You. My spoiled little princess.” I kissed at her bare shoulders and neck, my smile growing when she giggled and got all fidgety in my arms. “You wanna give it a shot? Hm? Wanna teach him how to fight?”

“I can fight,” she insisted between laughs. “I can beat you in a fight.”

“Can you now?” I grabbed her hips and picked her up, her little squeal in the air as I threw her over my shoulder.

“Hey!” she cried out. “This isn’t fair! You’re bigger than me!”

“So?”

“So, I’m at a disadvantage here!”

“What do you mean?”

“Sawyer!”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“Me or you?”

“Sawyer,” she said, her laughter all loud and pretty.

“I thought you said you could beat me in a fight,” I said, tossing her to the mattress, her smile big and her eyes bright. Her hair was sprawled around her, her locks thick and long, her cheeks red as she raised a leg and pressed a foot to my chest.

“That was not fair,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “I wasn’t prepared. ”

I caught her ankle and dragged her to the end of the bed, her giggle so bright and beautiful. “Fights aren’t fair, baby,” I said, leaning down to press my body to hers. I had her caged in, my hands finding her wrists, pinning them either side of her head. “But I’ll go easy on you and let you win.”

She smiled and pressed her lips to mine. “Such a gentleman.”

I laughed, the sound muffled as her tongue slipped into my mouth.

My hands let go of her wrists and she wasted no time sliding them up my arms and to my shoulders and then to my hair where she slid her fingers through the strands.

A soft tug from her was all it took to make me groan.

We stayed like that for a good while. Just kissing, my tongue moving against hers, her little whines in the air and my grunts mixing in with them.

My girl. My forever. Forever sounded really good as long as she’d be there too.

“I love you, Holly,” I said against her lips. “I promise I’ll take care of you. I will. I’ll do everything I can to make sure I look after you.”

Blinking slowly, she lowered a hand, letting her soft fingers stroke against my jaw. “I know, Sawyer. I love you too.”

She didn’t know what was on my mind. I didn’t need her to know. Not yet. It was my thing to deal with, my problem—but I’d get there in the end. For her and for us, for me and for the future I wanted us to have. Us in that house. Together, in love, so fucking happy. I just wanted to make her happy.

Her eyes suddenly lit up. “Guess what?”

“What?” I could feel her shifting a little underneath, and I took it as my cue to roll off her.

She sat up, snatching her laptop up from the bedside table and typing away for a few seconds before turning the screen around to me. “You’ve had so many enquiries about your paintings!”

There it was, my name scrawled across the top of some website in big bold letters. Holly tilted the laptop her way a little, clicking some more, and then I was looking back at row after row of little photographs of my paintings. My brows rose a little. Part of me had forgotten I had made so many.

“People are interested?” I asked.

“Mhm.” She nodded eagerly. “A lot of people are reaching out, asking about prices. I wasn’t sure how much you wanted to charge for each one. If you let me know, I can tell them.”

It never failed to amaze me that people were interested in my stuff, that they actually wanted something that I made on their walls.

“I’m happy with whatever,” I said with a shrug, but what I really wanted to say was charge them extra, charge them each a million dollars, because then I’d be a little bit closer to buying you your dream home .

“I guess we’ll have to deal with that when we get back to New York. ”

Her throat cleared. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

Part of me was only saying that to see the look on her face.

I wondered if she wanted to go back, if she was ready for some fancy ass skyscraper job now that she was done with college.

Maybe she wanted that to be her life. It was the kind girls like her got.

But it was her words from all those years ago that replayed in my head every damn day.

That little old house. All that open air.

The lemon tree. Our home. A place I could picture so perfectly.

Her writing, me painting, us in love. Did she still want that house?

The question stayed there on the tip of my tongue as I stared at her, wishing I could read her mind.

“Thanks for making that, baby,” I said, nodding towards the laptop. “It looks great. You did a good job.”

“Well, the girl who made the website did a good job. I just paid her.”

“Either way, thank you for setting that up.”

When we went to bed that night, I held Holly tightly to me, her head on my chest, our bodies fitting together so perfectly it was like we didn’t belong with anyone else but each other.

Once again, I could see it. That dream that felt so close and so far away all at once.

It would have been nice to skip right to it, but that wasn’t an option for guys like me.

There was no money to throw around, no connections to give me a helping hand, no phone calls I could make.

It was my cross to bear, my role to take: to be that man that could keep a roof over Holly’s head, to keep her safe and tucked away from any and all dangers.

I gave her forehead a soft kiss, feeling her stir in my arms, my own wrapping around her a little firmer.

It was my job to do that. To look after her. And I’d do it for the rest of my life.