“Have you noticed,” Tate said as he stretched lazily, “Cutter hasn’t been around as often lately?”
Lacy snuggled up against him. In the last three days they’d spent much of their time here in her bed. They’d explored each other and the heat they kindled together, sometimes a low, warmth-giving glow, more often a blaze that turned into an inferno. He smiled inwardly at himself, usually the most prosaic of men, thinking in metaphors.
And smiled more at the most amazing thing—well, after the incredible sex—that they’d spent so much time talking in between. It hadn’t been a strain at all. It had just flowed, often in strange, funny or even philosophical directions. It was unlike anything he’d ever done with a woman before, and time passed so quickly it startled him when he noticed the clock when he’d headed home for a brief interval during one of her tutoring sessions.
Of course, the first twenty-four hours he’d never set foot in his own place, which made him think of the shower they’d taken together. He’d never quite realized how erotic the feel of wet skin was, or how sweet the taste of water as he licked it off her or watched it as it streamed over her breasts and parted around nipples taut and aroused from his mouth.
And there he was, ready all over again just from thinking about it. It was a while before they got back to his question.
“I noticed,” she said when he repeated it. She sounded deliciously satisfied and looked it, as well. That made him wonder what the hell had taken him so long. She made him feel... He couldn’t even list all the ways she made him feel. “Judging from what Hayley said, he probably thinks his main job here is done.”
Since there had been no developments in the case, if you could even call it that, he wasn’t sure what she meant. “You mean he thinks it’s over?”
“Hayley says he’s an inveterate matchmaker.”
Tate blinked. “What?”
“His pushing us together all the time was intentional.”
“You’re saying that dog wanted...this?”
“Quinn says it’s a side effect of the cases they work. Hayley thinks deep down it might be Cutter’s main reason for finding the cases he does.” She looked up at him with a smile. “And by the way, she knew the minute she saw me at the market yesterday. Before you even appeared out of the cookie and cracker section.”
They’d had to make a food run because her cupboards were getting bare. “Hey, we’ve been burning up a lot of energy.”
“Indeed we have. But I’m still sorry we had to get out of bed to do that,” she said, stretching in turn. He loved when she did that, loved just watching the way her luscious body moved.
He grinned at her. “It’s nice to be in a bed.”
“Well, if that’s all you wanted,” she said, in clearly mock outrage.
He liked that she felt sure enough now to tease him. Liked that she liked to tease him. Liz had wanted high drama and perfection. Lacy could laugh at the beginning awkwardness as they found their way.
“All I want,” he said, utterly serious now, “is you. I don’t care where.”
“I can live with that,” she said.
“Although I probably really should get a bed for that room.”
“Yes.”
His earlier thought came back to him, and he lifted a brow at her. “Want to help me pick one out?”
She drew back slightly. “You want me to furniture shop with you?”
“Well, you do have a vested interest. In the bed, I mean.” Damn, that sounded bad, he thought. “I just meant—”
“I do have a serious interest in you getting a bed,” she agreed easily. “I’d say that’s fair.”
God, she made this so easy, he thought. And less than an hour later they were on their way to bed shopping, in the buggy, although he wasn’t sure if a bed would fit in it if he bought one that he could actually cart home. Because he wanted a big bed. After all, they had proven they could and would utilize every bit of it.
Once last night he’d awakened sideways, but with Lacy still tucked tight against him. It felt so good he’d just stayed there, savoring the warmth of her, the feel of her, until she’d awakened on her own and turned to him with a sleepy sweetness. He ached for her inside as much as he ached for her outside.
“You’ve got a lot of decisions to make,” she said as they pulled out of the driveway.
He shot her a glance, startled.
“You’ll need a mattress, too, obviously, and bedding.”
“Oh.” That kind of decision. He’d thought she meant... His own thought broke off as decisions about them didn’t scare him as much as they once had. Because he wanted this to go on, and on.
“Sheets and blankets are easy enough,” she continued, “but you’ll have to really like the top layer, since it will be visible. Should probably pick it first, and then the sheets can go with it. Unless you’re a traditionalist and want to just go for white.”
“Easier” was all he could manage. This was deep water for him. His brain hadn’t gone any further than picturing a king-size bed, maybe with big, square posts at the corners.
“You could always start with a set of white, then get another set in a color once you’ve settled on a comforter or whatever.” She was looking at him, he could feel it. “And as a practical matter, life’s easier if you don’t have to wash them and put them right back on every time.”
“Sure.”
“So let’s see, we can hit two or three furniture stores, more if you don’t find something you like.” He pulled to a halt at a stop sign but didn’t look at her as she rattled on. “Then a mattress store. There’s only one of those locally, so that’s easy. Then a bed and bath place or two. Or three, depending on how far you want to go.”
In the moment he saw his hands had tightened around the steering wheel, Lacy burst out laughing. His head snapped around and he stared at her.
“Take a breath, ye of the one-word answers. I’m just ribbing you.”
He blinked. “What?”
“You hadn’t thought a step beyond a bed frame, had you?”
She nailed it so accurately he couldn’t do anything but smile ruefully. “No.”
“Well, unless you want to sleep—or do other things—on slats, you’d better think about it.”
He liked the “do other things” part. But if he thought about that now, the temptation to turn around and go back, to explore those things some more, would be too much. And then a car pulled up behind them and he had to turn his attention back to driving.
“Do we really have to go to all those places?” he asked. It sound perilously close to a whine even to him, but the prospect seemed daunting. “I’m more of a one stop kind of guy.”
“I’m getting that,” she said. “I’ll bet you can stick to a shopping list, too.”
His brow furrowed. “Well, yeah. Why else make one?”
“So you don’t forget anything. Not as a limitation.”
He gave her a wry glance. “Is this one of those male-female things that are never going to meet?”
She laughed again. “Maybe so. But how boring would it be if there was never anything to figure out?”
He found himself grinning at her. There was no doubt that he’d laughed more in the last three days than he had in... He couldn’t remember the last time. And it had nothing to do with that knock on the head. On the heels of that realization came another—he hadn’t had a headache, either.
Stress is a trigger...
The doctors had repeated that, but he hadn’t quite believed it. They told him that was typical, to resist the idea that you were stressed by anything, but he’d better admit to it and deal with it if he wanted the headaches to stop eventually.
He thought he’d found a pretty damned good way to deal with it.
“I have an idea,” she said.
Oh, so do I. He bit back the words. “What?”
“If you don’t mind going farther, you might be able to find everything in one place.”
“If it will save a half a dozen stops, I’m all for it.”
“It’s on the other side,” she said. “So we’re talking commuter hour ferry.”
“I’ll deal.” They were pulling up to one of the two stoplights in town, the one where they had to decide which way to go. “Do you have the time?”
“I’m clear until four.”
“If we’re not done by then, I’ll be slitting my throat,” he said dryly. And made the turn toward the ferry.
The ferry holding lanes were already nearly full; it was, as she’d said, a morning commute. There was a blast of horns, unusual in this land of polite drivers, as a car cut into the line a couple of vehicles behind them. They made it onto the boat by about a dozen cars, at the tail end of the outside lane on the starboard side. The vessel was packed with walk-on passengers, as well, and since it was a clear, summer day already, the upper outside decks were crowded as Northwesterners savored the sunshine. After grabbing a cup of coffee from the busy vending area inside, they found a spot at the rail to watch their wooded home county grow smaller behind them and the city side get nearer.
“I swear, you can feel the city tension start halfway across,” Lacy said.
He looked down at her, reached out to tug a lock of hair, blown by the wind of their passage, out of her face. Remembered twining those silken strands through his fingers as he drove deep into her body, and the sound of her gasp of pleasure as he did. And that quickly he was at a boil again. He tamped it down with a promise that he would hear her cry out his name like that again soon. He wanted to kiss her, but wasn’t sure how she’d take it, here amidst a couple of hundred or so people milling about. So he spoke instead.
“Flip side is that you can feel it fade away halfway across on the way back.”
She smiled at him. That smile that had changed his mood, his outlook...his life.
Someone in the crowd brushed against his back, and he took a step to get out of the way. Since it brought him even closer to Lacy, he didn’t mind. But then he sensed the person bending over, and thought maybe they were ill. It was hard to get seasick on the broad, steady ferries, but—
He felt another bump from behind them.
Lacy screamed as she went over the rail toward the dark, deep water of the sound.