“For what?” Slate asked.
“For being you.”
The words didn’t accurately portray what she wanted him to know. How glad she was that he was the kind of man who worried about his girlfriend driving home late at night, even if she was perfectly capable of doing so. That he was concerned about her being sore. That he drew her a bath, then took her for a leisurely walk when he could’ve been doing something more productive. That he seemed worried her friends were giving her a hard time. That he listened to her stories about her clients when she was well aware he worried about her going to so many people’s houses.
She was glad he was the man he was in so very many ways.
Slate must have understood the deeper meaning behind her words, because he didn’t make a joke. He just nodded, then leaned down to kiss her. Right there in the middle of the restaurant, he covered her lips with his and demanded entry to her mouth. The kiss seemed…more intense than usual, for some reason. More meaningful.
When he pulled back, Ashlyn licked her lips and stared up at him. He brought his hand to her cheek and rubbed his thumb over her skin in a gentle caress before nodding again, grabbing her hand, then towing her toward their friends.
Later that night, after Carly and Jag had decided on what dishes to serve at their wedding, after she’d laughed with her friends until her stomach hurt, after stopping back at Slate’s house so he could grab his PT clothes for Monday morning, after dinner—during which Slate had pulled out a gallon of Duke’s mai tais he’d somehow conned Carly into letting him take out, even though it was illegal—after getting drunk on said mai tais, and after Slate had fucked her on her couch, against a wall, gone down on her until she begged for mercy, and then made long, slow, sweet love to her, Ashlyn lay boneless and completely relaxed against him in her bed.
“Still sore?” he asked softly as he ran his hand up and down the bare skin of her back.
Ashlyn couldn’t help but laugh. “I can barely remember my name after all the alcohol and the orgasms. I wouldn’t know if I was sore if my life depended on it.”
Slate chuckled.
A comfortable silence descended between them for a minute or two. Then Slate said, “Had another really good day.”
Ashlyn grinned against him, feeling his words warm her down to her toes. “Me too.”
“Who’s on your schedule tomorrow?” he asked.
She snorted. “No clue. And you don’t really expect me to think right now, do you?”
“I think I like you like this.”
“Like how?”
“Tipsy. And in a sex coma.”
Ashlyn giggled. “Why does that not surprise me?”
“Gonna get up early to head to PT. You want me to wake you up before I go or let you sleep?” he asked.
“Wake me up,” she said immediately.
“You gonna be able to be woken up?” he retorted.
“Yes,” she said somewhat huffily. “I’m only a super-deep sleeper right after I lay down. In the morning, after I’ve gotten my beauty sleep, I wake up easily.”
“All right, babe. I’ll put a glass of water next to the bed. Be sure to drink it all without giving me shit about it, okay?”
“I’m not that drunk,” she protested, even though it had been quite a while since she’d had as much alcohol as she’d had today.
“Still,” he said.
“Fine, Mr. Bossypants. I’ll drink it.”
“Thank you.”
It was nice to have him here. When they’d first started dating Ashlyn remembered thinking she was glad to have her bed to herself after sex. But now she couldn’t think of one good reason why she’d want to be alone. He was warm, he liked to snuggle, and despite his hard body, he made an excellent pillow.
“Ash?”
“Hmmm?” she said, on the verge of falling asleep.
After a long pause, he answered, “Sleep well.”
She had the fleeting thought that those words weren’t what he’d meant to say, but she was too tired and replete to question him. “You too.”
CHAPTER NINE
Slate stared down at the sleeping woman in the bed. Yesterday…well, the last two days…had been enlightening. While the sex between them was the best he’d ever had, and he loved how enthusiastic she was when it came to anything in bed, he was finding that he actually enjoyed being with her when sex was off the table just as much.
It had been a long time since he’d slept with a woman. Slept, slept. As he’d told Ashlyn, he was a light sleeper. The slightest noise or movement typically woke him up. So staying with a woman after they’d had sex usually meant a shitty night’s sleep. But with Ashlyn, because of how soundly she slept, he hadn’t woken up once.
It was the ass crack of dawn on Monday, and he had to get to PT on time or Mustang would give him hell. But Slate couldn’t make himself go. He had no idea what it was about Ashlyn that made him reluctant to leave. She was a good woman, he respected her, but he wasn’t ready to settle down like his teammates had.
With that thought in his head, Slate leaned down and shook Ashlyn slightly.
She groaned.
He couldn’t help but smirk. “Hey, babe. I’m headed out.”
“Umkay,” she mumbled.
“Wake up and drink some water,” he ordered.
“I’m awake,” she said in a tone that belied her words.
“Ash, up. You promised you’d drink this water.”
Frowning, Ashlyn opened her eyes. “You’re really annoying,” she told him.
“And you’ll feel better if you drink something. Trust me.”
“Fine,” she groused and reached for the glass he was holding out to her. She guzzled the water down without stopping to breathe, which only made his smile widen.
“There. Happy?” she asked in a huff as she flopped back down to the mattress.
“Yes. I was thinking…” Slate said.
Ashlyn groaned. “Thinking this early in the morning can’t be a good thing.”
“We’ve got water training this Wednesday, then we’ll have the rest of the afternoon off. What would you think about me coming with you on some of your deliveries that day?”
Ashlyn’s eyes popped open once more. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah.”
“Yes! I’d love that. The Turners are on my schedule for that day. And James too. Oh, and Jazmin. Her son Henry gets home from school around three-thirty, and he loves everything having to do with the military. I’m sure he’d love to meet you.”
Slate wasn’t sure why he’d offered to go with her…probably to further put his mind at ease about her job. He was pleased with her enthusiastic response though. “Great. I can meet you at Food For All after lunch. Will that work?”
“Perfect.”
“It’s a plan then. Go back to sleep for a while. You want me to call after PT and make sure you’re up and moving?” he asked.
“Yeah, would you? I’m usually good at getting up, but I think I’m kind of hungover.”
Slate wanted to laugh, but knew she wouldn’t appreciate it. He figured she’d be hurting a bit, which was why he’d insisted on her drinking the water.