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Falling for My Best Friend Bonus Scene

Grady

The plane touches down, startling me awake.

“We’re finally here,” Annika squeals softly next to me, peering out the window.

I yawn and wonder what time it is. My stomach says it’s definitely time to eat, but that’s no surprise because airplane food is made for squirrels.

I pull Annika to me for a kiss as the plane rolls into our gate. It’s been near torture being this close to her for the past eight hours and not able to touch her. When the flight attendants were busy with the meal service earlier, I tried to convince her to join the Mile High Club.

She just rolled her eyes. “Seriously? You barely fit in there, let alone with company.”

So I’ve been kissing her every chance I get, and as soon as we check into our hotel there will be no stopping me.

Once we pass through the airport to the exit, a sea of swarming bodies awaits. Several different men badger us for a taxi ride, or to carry our luggage. I squeeze Annika’s hand tightly and keep walking. Our host warned us of this, so we’re prepared, but it’s still quite the circus.

“There he is,” Annika says, leading me toward a thin, middle-aged man with dark hair. He’s holding a sign with our names written in block letters.

“Grady and Annika?” the man asks in stilted English, his eyebrows arching up.

“Yes,” I say. “I mean, si,” I add with a laugh.

The man throws up his hands, his eyes lighting up. “Ah! Benvenuta!” he says, and cradles Annika’s shoulder before giving her a kiss on both cheeks.

To my surprise, he reaches up to do the same ritual to me. “Benvenuto!”

I laugh at his delight.

He beams at us, then extends his hand toward the door. “Andiamo, si?”

Si,” Annika says, then laughs.

During the forty-five-minute drive to the hill town inn, Annika snuggles against me. I stroke down her arm and hold her hand, unable to stop touching her, getting so worked up that my brain goes into lockdown. Our driver, Giuseppe, speaks in a combination of broken English and Italian. I think there’s a history lesson, something about olive oil, and what I’m pretty sure are hints about our bedroom being comfortable and private. Maybe Annika told him we’re engaged, or maybe it’s just evident that we can’t wait to be alone.

Finally, we reach the hotel, a two-story stone building with a gravel turnaround and a fountain with a stone angel at the center. The building looks like it’s hundreds of years old, with ivy growing up the sides. Outside the cab, the air smells of rich earth and woodsmoke.

I grab Annika’s hand and pull her into a kiss. I want to remember this moment forever, the way the color of her eyes matches the afternoon sky and the way her smile lights up her sweet face.

“It is repossa now,” our driver says, waiting for us with our luggage a few feet away, as if watching two people kiss is no big deal. “But we have antipasti if you are hungry.”

“What’s repossa?” I ask Annika as we follow our driver inside, our hands swinging between us.

“It’s when everyone rests in the afternoon.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Like naptime?”

She giggles. “Something like that.”

“Perfect,” I say, and lean down to kiss her cheek so I can whisper, “But don’t plan on doing much napping.”

“Aren’t you hungry?” she asks, her eyes widening.

“I’m always hungry, but right now I’m not thinking about food.”

She bites her lip. “Seriously? Grady Dole passing up food?”

I fold her into my arms. “You’re the only nourishment I need.”

She closes her eyes and tugs me down to kiss her. Our lips embrace softly, but there’s an eagerness there, too.

The man checking us in slides our key across the desk. I scoop it up so I can get the hell out of this entryway and into our room. Our driver helps carry our luggage up a carpeted staircase. My anticipation grows with every step.

At last, we arrive at our door. Our driver lets us in and carries our luggage into the room. It’s basic, as Annika said it would be, with a simple bed, an olive-green loveseat, an ornately carved wooden dresser, and a window with a view over the vineyard that rises up to a rocky mountain that I’m sure I’ll appreciate at some point.

I tip our driver and he gives us one last beaming smile. “Enjoy your stay,” he says, then steps past us and closes the door softly behind him.

I step close to Annika and comb my fingers through her hair.

“Thanks for including me in this trip,” I say.

Her eyes dance. “I wasn’t going to come without you.”

I caress the plump edge of her bottom lip. “Is that so?”

Her cheeks turn a delicious pink. “Shut up and kiss me,” she says, grabbing me by the back of my neck.

I lean down and kiss her, my lips eager. She kisses me back, arching her body to mine. It doesn’t take us long to undress each other, our fingers turning frantic while our lips and tongues dance and tease, until I’m urging her onto the bed and climbing between her soft thighs. I lavish her soft breasts and touch her everywhere until she’s panting and arching her body into mine.

“Please, Grady,” she says, sounding desperate.

“You don’t have to beg, baby,” I say, and caress the side of her face. Our gazes lock as I drive slowly inside her.

Her mouth opens in pleasure and she gasps a tight breath.

I watch her eyes shine with desire as I fill every inch of her. With our bodies as one, I hold her as waves of joy break free inside me. It’s so sweet and rich and pure that my breath catches in my throat. I take a moment to savor what I almost lost forever.

“I love you, Grady,” Annika says, squeezing me tight.

My emotions are so raw that it takes me a moment to answer. “I love you so much, Annika,” I reply, and kiss her. I start to move, driving slow and deep so I can experience everything—her eager breaths, her warmth, her scent, the way her body welcomes mine.

Ten whole days to be with her, ten nights to devour her. I’m sure we’ll go for walks and eat great food. We’ll tour hill towns and taste wine made from ancient vineyards. We’ll enjoy the people and the culture, and it’ll be great.

But really, we could be anywhere in the world—Penny Creek or Rome or Timbuktu. Because as long as I have her, life is full and rich and sweet.

Nothing else matters.

Get your next fix of big heat/small town romance from the Morgan family with Falling for My Plus One, a fake relationship romance featuring the oldest Morgan, Peter!