Falling for my boyfriend's Navy brother novel Chapter 243

Chapter 243: Penny

The morning light pouts through the curtains in soft gold streaks, warm across the sheets tangled around my hips, warmer still on the arms wrapped tight around my waist.

Asher.

His breath is steady against the back of my neck, lips pressed just beneath my ear like he fell asleep mid–kiss. One arm is slung heavy across my waist, the other tucked beneath my pillow, and his bare chest is warm, solid, and pressed flush against my spine.

We didn’t sleep much. Not at first, anyway.

We talked. For hours. The kind of talking that gets tangled up with kisses, that turns into long, slow touches and hushed laughter under blankets and whispered apologies against skin. I asked him everything, and he didn’t shy away. He told me the truth, all of it, eyes steady, hands gentle

He wasn’t like Tyler.

He lied, yes. But it wasn’t to hurt me. It wasn’t to cheat, or deceive, or string me along. It was to protect. To shield. And somehow, I can live with that.

He promised me I’d have the whole truth once it was over, and now that it is, I believe him.

I’m sore in the best way, my muscles heavy with sleep, skin warm from where he couldn’t stop touching me. Again and again, like he was making up for every second we spent apart.

I shift a little and feel his arm tighten around me.

“You’re awake,” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep, low and rough and familiar.

I smile. “Barely.”

“Good,” he says. Then scoops me up like I weigh nothing and carries me into the bathroom.

“Asher!” I squeal, laughing. “I can walk, you know.”

“Too bad,” he says, grinning. “I like carrying you.”

He sets me down on the counter like I’m fragile, then leans in to kiss my shoulder, my neck, the corner of mouth.

“Shower,” he murmurs, turning the knob. Steam curls into the air like it’s dancing. “You first, or me?”

“Both,” I say, blushing but bold, because last night stripped me raw and rebuilt me stronger.

His smile darkens into something heated.

my

“Princess,” he warns, voice rough and low, but it’s all affection. Reverent. “You keep saying things like that, I’m not gonna let you leave this house ever again.”

I hop down and step inside the shower. He follows, his/hands immediately sliding into my hair, massaging shampoo into my scalp with fings so careful it makes my knees weak.

He kisses my forehead. Then my nose. Then the scar just above my brow. Then lower.

“I missed you,” he murmurs, lips ghosting down my jaw.

I lean into him, fingers tracing the ridges of his ribs, the smooth lines of his back, and the once terrifying, now familiar terrain of old scars.

“I missed you too.”

The water pours over us as he washes me like he’s memorizing every inch of me. Every freckle. Every breath. We kiss under the spray until it goes from

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Chapter 243: Penny

heated to giddy, laughing when I slip trying to reach the conditioner, splashing like teenagers until the bathroom is thick with warmth and steam and

comfort.

We dry off, steal kisses between towels, and end up in the kitchen wrapped in robes.

He cracks eggs like he’s been doing it since birth, then hands me a whisk and tells me to “whip it like it owes you money.”

I giggle, and he grins like a schoolboy, brushing flour on my nose before I can dodge him. I retaliate with a spoonful of peanut butter to his chin. He tackles

me onto the couch after that, kisses me like it’s war, and we burn the first pancake because neither of us remembers to take it out in time.

When we finally eat, it’s a mess of eggs and jam and laughter.

Asher leans his chin on his hand, elbow propped on the table, and just stares at me for a long minute.

“What?” I ask, smiling.

He shrugs, eyes soft. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

I blink, heart folding in on itself.

It’s not the kind of thing he says lightly.

But before I can reply, he stands and gathers the dishes, dropping a kiss to my head as he passes. I bite my lip and follow him to help.

Later, we head to the store. Groceries are overdue and Asher insists on pushing the cart, one hand on the bar, the other around my waist like someone might steal me if he doesn’t anchor me there himself.

He glares at anyone who looks too long. A guy brushing past me near the cereal aisle gets a full–on Doberman stare until he practically sprints away. I roll my eyes but I’m secretly melting.

Because this is Asher. Protective. Possessive. Deep down made of steel but soft for me. He lets me pick out the overpriced strawberries, the cereal I like that he pretends to hate but secretly eats when I’m not looking.

At one point, I freeze. A man in the next aisle is wearing a leather jacket with studs, tall and broad–shouldered. My breath catches.

My whole body tenses.

Asher feels it. Instantly.

“What is it?” His voice goes quiet. Focused.

I point

He narrows his eyes, then relaxes just slightly. “Not them. No logo. Nothing. Just a biker. You’re safe, Penny. I promise.”

I nod, swallowing the anxiety back down. It’s the second time, now, that I get scared of a random guy in a leather jacket. I silently pray that this won’t be a trigger of mine forever.

We finish shopping with him glued to my side, his palm warm on my lower back, brushing over the curve of my hip, a reminder that I’m

Back home, I carry in a bag while he unloads, the rest. He’s humming under his breath..

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