Battle of the Bulbs (Holidays in Willow Valley Book 1) by Shannyn Leah

Author:Shannyn Leah [Leah, Shannyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-12-22T00:00:00+00:00

***

THE FIRST TIME Booker awoke, he found Cheyenne had sunk to rest her head on the armrest, forcing him to stretch across the sofa to shake her awake.

The second time, she was stretched out on the couch with her head sleeping on the middle cushion giving him easier access to shake her.

The third time, Cheyenne was using his lap as her pillow. She’d grumbled incoherent mumblings at first, and after additional prying, he’d managed to get specifics out of her.

The last time he woke, he felt her breathing against him before he opened his drowsy eyes. Blinking, he turned his head and his chin rubbed the top of Cheyenne’s head.

Was this real? Or a dream?

Breathing deeply, he blinked until the room formed and he felt himself waking up. He reveled in the discovery of finding Cheyenne stretched out beside him like old times. God, he missed her.

His body sat as still as silence, and he considered letting her sleep. He feared waking her would rain down a harsh reality and she’d scramble as far away from him as possible—possibly kicking him out of the house and, even more likely, slapping him across the face.

However, his concern for her well-being trumped his desire to hold her and softly he shook her shoulder.

“Hmmm,” her soft murmur tightened the area between his legs.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Cheyenne Collins.”

“What’s my name?”

She giggled a soft tune, still half asleep and said, “Booker, sweetheart, I know who I sleep with.”

His body tensed.

She was still very much asleep.

Temptation to play along with her rose to the surface. He considered pulling her down beside him for one more night and forget the bad blood between them. However, again, her well-being trumped his emotions and he continued with his questions, knowing each one would bring her closer to reality.

“Cheyenne, the ladder fell on you, do you remember?”

Her eyes fluttered open and her head tilted up to look at him. “Yes,” she said, lifting her hand from his lap. He expected her to pull away, but she touched his stomach, resting her hand there for a moment, and pressing her palm flat against him. He felt a moan form low in his chest, knew she felt it rumble, too. Her fingers danced around the area before she progressed up his torso, over his chest, then her finger touched the flesh of his throat and his body boiled.

He caught it before she touched his face. “What are you doing?” he asked, but he knew and he didn’t want to stop her.

“I miss you,” she whispered. “I miss us. This. Nights are the worst.”

His eyes fell shut. If he continued to watch the desire build in her eyes, he wouldn’t have enough control to say no. “You’re half asleep and overtired,” he said, letting go of her hand so he could rub his eyes.

“I know.” She sighed and the majestic sound danced against his skin. “Let me wake up, Booker, and then we can…”

“What?” he asked, opening his eyes. “Sleep together and regret it come sunrise? That’s not why I stayed.

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