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“You’re Fine Becca?” he asked with a delighted smile. “I’m Relatively Unharmed Leo,” he said, sticking his uninjured hand out.
“Silly Becca, typewriters don’t travel well.” He peered at her with a mischievous grin
“Everyone deserves a special view of New England in the fall.”
No big deal. Just a kind, bookish Prince Charming who smells great. No need to start planning the wedding.
How Many Beds are There? HINT: ONLY ONE
there was something deliciously alluring about a guy in bed holding a worn copy of what was clearly his favorite book.
“Oh, don’t mistake my chivalry tonight for weakness tomorrow.
“I’ve been told by exes that I tend to ummm,” she cleared her throat, “…aggressively snuggle?” Leo peered over his shoulder at her. “You plan to aggressively snuggle me? Like to death?”
“I think a pillow wall will protect my virtue just fine from your marauding mouth.”
“Fine, but if it happens again, I’ll just get ready early,” she said, settling down on her side but staring at him. He had his back to her. “Becca?” “Yeah?” She hoped he wouldn’t tell her to get ready right now. She craved sleep. Anything to forget the last five minutes. “If I wake up with you on top of me again,” he said slowly and quietly, “I won’t be the one to stop it.”
“The only evil scheme a cinnamon roll like you has is convincing someone to wait five minutes for a cup of bitter black coffee.” He sent her a side-eye glance. “Did you just call me a breakfast food?”
She slowly slid off the bench and grabbed her coat. He took it from her and helped her put it on, pulling her hair out from under her collar. Phew boy.
“I’m acutely aware of two facts,” he said, breathing heavily. “One: you have nowhere to stay tonight except with me. Two: I want nothing more than to kiss that pouty mouth. I’ve thought about it all fucking day.”
He walked her backward against the door. Hard surfaces – this man liked them.
“Open your eyes, Becca. Watch me.”