Chapter Thirteen
Casey had no idea what time they’d finally collapsed in a heap, exhausted, but the light still woke her early. It was a gray morning but she was hopeful that the low fog would burn off to make for a clear night of fireworks. The birds were starting to twitter. Ben’s arm was heavy around her, holding her close.
She wriggled out of his grasp and climbed out of bed. Had all that really happened? She looked over at his sleeping form. His hair hung in his eyes and his dark-brown stubble had filled in since the previous night. He was even more gorgeous as he slept, his face soft and untroubled. It made him look younger, although the beginnings of a beard added a few years, with the rough, grizzled touch of the backcountry that turned her on so much.
The thought of his stubble
