Chapter 17

I parked, climbed out of the Mercedes.

Toby heard the car door slam and turned to me. A smile had taken over his handsomeness. He placed his axe and gloves to the ground and walked towards me: jeans snug around his hips, oval Texas belt buckle glowing silver at his center, treasure trail beneath his navel, sticky with perspiration. He brushed a palm down and along the narrow and ripped area between his sweat-covered pecs. A fingertip danced over a hard nipple. The smile on his charming face grew.

“You made it!” He closed the distance between us.

We hugged, enchanting, needed, slenderness.

I didn’t want to let him go, liking him too much, and realizing he couldn’t have been more important in my life.

“I was supposed to be gone an hour ago. This is your place,” he told me, slowly backing out of the hug.

“Stay. I like the cottage better when you’re here.”