Page 81 of Now and Then

She smiles. “I missed you last night.”

Guilt crawls up my spine. “That is not how I pictured our date ending. I hated leaving you.”

Sutton pushes herself up onto her elbow, studying me. “You had a call.”

“Still doesn’t mean I liked it. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“There’s no need.” Sutton presses a kiss to my shoulder. “We both know it won’t be the last time our lives get interrupted by your job. If this thing between us is real, then that’s part of the deal, right?”

Relief washes through me at her words. “Mhmm,” I mumble, leaning up to press my lips to hers.

Sutton’s body softens immediately, a moan filling the silence of the room. At first, her kiss is sweet and shy, but it quickly morphs into a full-on make-out session, something I haven’t done since high school.

Eventually, the heat between us turns to a low simmer, and she pulls away. Splotches of red pepper her cheeks and trail down her neck. “Wow,” she says, lying back on the floor, arms spread wide.

“So,” I say, running my fingers over the soft skin of her belly, “what else you got on your to-do list?”

“I was going to start painting the bathrooms and guest rooms,” she answers quickly.

I stand and turn on the music on her phone. Sutton jumps into action, grabbing paint, trays, and new rollers. We start with the master bath, which doesn’t take long, figuring as there isn’t much wall space with vanities, mirrors, a walk-in shower, and a huge window overlooking the property.

“How did last night go?” she asks as we make our way into the small guest bath.

“It went okay,” I say. “We might have found a partial print, but forensics won’t have anything for us for a few days. Guess who called me this morning?”

She tilts her mouth to the side in concentration. “I have no clue. Who?”

“Logan.”

“Logan Logan?”

“Yup. Guess he’s running a case in Eagle Falls that might have a link to ours.”

“Sounds promising?”

She’s bent over, trimming around the base boards, but all I can concentrate on is her ass in those leggings, swaying side to side. Suddenly, she looks over her shoulder. “Stop staring at my ass, Hunt, and get to work.”

“Maybe next time you could wear a burlap sack or something.”

She rolls her eyes. “You know that’ll never happen, baby.”

There’s that nickname again. I never thought I was a nickname kind of man, but every time she calls me baby, I feel fifty feet tall. “I love it when you call me that.”

“I know.” She smiles and winks at me over her shoulder.

The afternoon passes rather quickly, and shockingly, we finish painting the guest bath and half of one of the guest rooms. By the time we pull out of the driveway and head back to her mom’s house, it’s nearly four o’clock.

We take turns in the shower, much to my dismay, and end up sprawled on the sofa. She’s scrolling through her laptop when an idea forms in my mind. I grab one of her sketchbooks and put my idea to paper.

“What are you working on so seriously over there?”

“Mind your business, woman.” I blow her a kiss.

“Don’t you woman me. It’s Sutton, babe, or baby girl.”

“Noted.” I don’t bother looking up, tongue sticking out in concentration as I draw the design for our backyard.

“Okay, with that smile and look on your face, I’ve got to know what you’re working on.”