CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
The night in the shed passed slowly. He did not move from his position beneath her, and yet she knew he was awake by the uneven rhythm of his breathing, the almost imperceptible caress of his fingertips upon her thigh, and the subtle sounds of his tongue wetting his lips in the nervous habit that accompanied his deepest thoughts. His body was very warm. Though his jeans were still damp, his T-shirt had long been dry.
Rachel lay motionless in his arms, attempting to make sense of her own thoughts before beginning to contemplate his. No matter where her reflections ventured, she inevitably came to the same conclusion.
She stretched and shifted, thankful for the comfortable contour of his flesh. He lifted his hand as she moved and returned it to her thigh once she’d sett
