He grinned widely and brought his hand down to touch her face.

“Come on,” she said, pulling back out of reach. “It’s like a freezer in here. Trashcan’s on your side of the bed. I want under the covers.”

“Are you always so practical?” he teased.

Even though there was no censure in his words, they made her flush.

She moved so that they could both get under the comforter, rolling away from him just enough so that he wouldn’t think she was some lovesick stalker. He followed, tucking her ass into the cradle of his groin and threading an arm around her waist.

It was too perfect. The warm heat of his skin soaked into her body as he drifted off into sleep. She relaxed slowly to the slight snuffling snore he made, her breathing matching his own.

She awoke in the morning to the sound of someone talking on the phone. Opening her eyes, she saw Lang sitting on the edge of the bed speaking into his cell, every vertebra of his spine enticing Peyton to run her fingers along them.

“Okay. Works for me,” he said, disconnecting the call and placing the phone on the nightstand. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled when he saw she was awake. Lifting the covers, he hurriedly crawled back underneath with a mock shudder at the chill.

“Good morning.” His eyes crinkled at the corners with his smile. “I was on the phone with the tow truck guys again. Seems I’m not the only person with a car in a ditch. They’re kinda backed up.”

She realized she was holding her breath only when he continued to speak.

“I told them I wasn’t in a hurry.” Reaching for her, his warm hand slid up her arm, making her shiver.

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