Page 126 of The Reason I Married Him
I don’t want to admit this, but God, I want more.
Keeping his head right next to mine, he says, “Good night, Aubree.”
“Good night,” I answer, but he doesn’t move. He hovers above me, and I’m not sure why. Does he want another kiss? I wouldn’t be opposed because we’re practicing after all.
After a few seconds, he sighs, lowers himself to the bed, and drapes his arm over me.
Why did he pause?
Did I do something wrong?
This bouncing, pulsing energy that has my nerves rattling inside me takes hold of my voice, and before I can stop myself, I ask, “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” he says, his body moving against mine as he holds me close.
“Are you sure? Because it seemed like you were mad about something.”
“I thought you didn’t do feelings,” he says, his head now buried in my hair.
“I don’t, but I just want to make sure that I didn’t, you know, do anything wrong.”
“Nope,” he says simply. “Nothing wrong.”
“Like nothing wrong with the kiss?”
“Especially nothing wrong with the kiss,” he replies. “That kiss was . . . fuck, it was good.”
I feel my cheeks heat as my nipples harden against my shirt from his approval. The praise, the gruffness in his tone, the male satisfaction as he holds me close.
It makes me feel . . . amazing.
Should I be happy about that or not?
And The Next Night. . .
“How are you in bed before me?” I ask as I pull my hair into a loose bun on the top of my head.
Wyatt’s eyes fall to the high hem of my shirt before he moves them back up to my face.
“I took a shower before dinner. I was really fucking dirty from helping Parson out in the field.” His eyes roam over me one more time as he wets his lips.
Ignoring his wandering eyes, I slip into bed with him and say, “Parson was happy that you helped him out today. He told me how grateful he was for the help, especially when the tractor got stuck.”
“See,” he says as he turns toward me. “I am helpful on the farm.”
“Never said you weren’t helpful,” I reply as I cast the room into darkness by turning off my light. “Just that you don’t have to be on the farm every day.”
“What if I like being on the farm every day?” he asks as his fingers dance down my arm, creating a wave of goosebumps.
“Well, I mean . . . that’s, uh . . . that’s up to you,” I say as a blast of nerves hit me all at once...because I know what’s coming.
I know what we’ve been developing over the past few nights.
The intensity has grown.
The countdown in my head until I can slip into bed with him has kicked up.
And today, when I was washing my face and getting ready for bed, I realized that this light, airy feeling in my chest was the anticipation of how he might kiss me tonight.
