It was barely light outside when I woke up in Max’s arms. Yep, it was a pretty good place to be, all things considered. He spooned me, and I was glad for that—nobody wanted to wake up the first morning after sleeping with somebody knowing their morning breath was hitting their partner right in the face. I was also betting that I’d drooled in my sleep or at least snored a little. Because there was no way life was really as perfect as it seemed just then. Something had to be wrong.

I ran that hand over my face. No dried drool. There was a chance I wouldn’t scare him away, after all.

Last night seemed like a dream. A dirty, erotic, incredibly beautiful dream. But it must have been real, or else why would I still be buck naked and so sore between my legs, the kind of soreness a woman felt after having sex three times in one night? And why would he be lying just as naked with his arm over me? I heard his soft, even breathing behind me and relished the sound.

I was in love. No doubt about it. Only a woman in love could find the sound of her lover’s breathing so joyful and fulfilling.

I only wished I knew how he felt about me.

Don’t overthink this, Mimi. That never got you anywhere. The only thing overthinking ever got me was chewed-up fingernails and the very real concern of developing an ulcer. Besides, thinking too much made a girl do stupid things like become jealous, clingy, and possessive. I didn’t want to be any of those things. I wanted us to be us, just the way we were. If I read too much into it, I’d make it weird even if I tried not to.

He stirred, letting out a confused snort as he did. I stifled a giggle.

“Good morning,” he murmured, pulling me close.

Oh, he felt so good. His body was warm and firm as he enveloped me. I let myself sink into the sensation of his lips against the back of my neck, my throat, my ear, my jaw. He wasn’t trying to be sexy, but it didn’t matter. I felt my body respond like he’d flipped a switch.

“You’re up early,” I whispered. I took a chance and rolled over, hoping I didn’t look like something out of a haunted house. Damn him for looking even more delicious first thing in the morning than he did all day long. How was that even possible? Did he wake up in the middle of the night to make himself look presentable? Even his hair looked artfully tousled. Like he had a hair and makeup crew in that suitcase of his.

“Didn’t you hear me making plans to go fishing with Alexander and Peter this morning?”

I frowned. “I guess I missed it. Was that before or after you started placing bets on this year’s football draft?”

He chuckled softly. “After.”

“I see.”

“You could come, you know.”

I wrinkled my nose before I could stop myself. “I don’t think that would be the best idea. The thought of hooking a fish turns my stomach a little.”

“Do you eat fish?”

“Like it’s my job, but that’s another story.”

“Hypocrite.” He kissed my forehead, my cheeks. It was heaven. I wished time would stop. Everything was perfect, right here in our cocoon.

“That’s not hypocritical. It’s me, having a weak stomach. Besides,” I added, snuggling up against him just a little closer, “you need your guy time. I would only ruin it.”

“I don’t think you could ruin anything.” He stroked my face, my hair, before letting his hand move down to my back. I told myself to stop shivering every time he touched me, but I couldn’t help it. He was magic.

“I wish I could see myself the way you do,” I admitted, closing my eyes as his lips found mine.

“I wish you could, too. I really do.” He held my chin in his hand, then kissed me again before getting up. “I guess I’d better do this now, or else I might never leave.” He looked down at me in all his glorious nakedness, and I let my eyes linger on his body as long as I could.

“I’m taking a mental picture,” I told him, then held my hands up on either side of my face like I was holding a camera.

“Wow, is that supposed to be an actual camera in your hands? And you accuse me of dating myself.”

“Oh, sorry. Should it be a phone, instead?”

“Yeah. Try living in this century.” I threw a pillow at him and he laughed as he stepped into our bathroom.

Just before he closed the door, I murmured, “And to think. I was going to suggest we take a shower together this morning.”

The door stopped moving. “Uh, we can definitely still do that.”

“Why would you want to take a shower with a woman who doesn’t even live in this century?”

I rolled over, giggling to myself with my back to the door. So I didn’t see him rush to the bed, but I did feel him scoop me up in his arms and carry me to the shower. I could have fought him off, but why bother? He was a man who got what he wanted.

And he wanted me.