Chapter 37: Conal's Gift“Morning sleepyhead,” Conal greeted me. He leaned over the bed and kissed me, his hair damp from the shower. “Come on, we're getting out of here.”
I gazed up at him, yawning deeply. “Jerome's releasing us?”
“Yep.” Conal was dressed, wearing faded blue denims which hugged his muscular legs and lean hips and a black V-neck sweater which closely followed the contours of his chest. “He's apparently convinced I'm not going to have a nervous breakdown and you've been given a clean bill of health.”
I pulled the covers from my legs and sat up on the bed, mesmerized as Conal pulled a comb through his hair. The movement of his arm provided a delightful view of the muscles flexing beneath the thin sweater and he grinned when he caught my gaze fixated on his chest. “C'mon, S
