“It’s not a problem,” he says. “But I promise I’ll let you know if it becomes one. I don’t hesitate when it comes to asking for what I want.”
I’m melting in a puddle of lust for this man. And my smile is probably goofy as hell. And I don’t care. This is the most fun I’ve had in years.
CHAPTER TEN
Deacon
I’m just going to go ahead and say it. This is the best date I’ve ever been on.
There were no awkward silences during dinner, and I spent most of the conversation laughing at Amelia’s wild stories from her job as an animal control officer. She is such a badass.
Dinner ended way too soon, and I’m already thinking of ways to spend more time with her as I drive her home. Checking out the space for the cat gym won’t take more than ten minutes, but maybe I can suggest we go out for dessert after or stay in and watch a movie. What would a boyfriend-material kind of guy do?
I’ve never wanted to be boyfriend material before. Easy and casual’s more my style.
But I want it now. And I have no idea how to get it.
I pull up and park in front of her adorable house.
“Thanks for an amazing date,” she says, smiling over at me like I’m the only man she ever wants to look at.
“It’s not over yet,” I say.
Her eyes pop wide, and she darts a look at the house, almost panicked. “It isn’t? I’m not sure I’m ready—”
Damn, she’s even more adorable than her house. “You were going to show me where you want the cat gym, remember?”
Her cheeks flush red, and she drops her head into her hands. “I’m so bad at this.”
Gently, I pull her hands away from her face and lift her chin until she’s looking at me. “I think you’re perfect at this.”
She’s made it clear she’s not ready for me to enter her house for any reason other than her cat gym, so I’m not about to kiss her without some definite sign of interest from her.
Which she gives me when she leans in and presses her lips to mine.
She tastes like pasta, and she feels like velvet when I slide my hands over her cheeks and cup her head to pull her to me. The kiss goes from zero to sixty in seconds, and I’m on the verge of dragging her onto my lap when she pulls away, breathing hard.
“Wow,” she says. “You’re really good at that.”
“I think it’s us together,” I say.
And it’s clearly the wrong thing to say, because she pulls away. Not physically. But I see it in her eyes. She wants this to be casual, and she doesn’t want me to point out the blaringly obvious: whatever is between us, it’s anything but casual.
“I should show you the space,” she says.
She hops out of the truck before I can answer, and I follow her into the house.
It’s cozy and clean, if a bit messy, with comfortable-looking couches in the front room and thick rugs over the hardwood floors. I can see from here that the cabinets in the kitchen are outdated, as are the appliances and the fixtures, but the room is bright and as cozy as the rest of the house.
An orange cat sits atop a pillow resting on the floor, surrounded by shredded tissues.
“Marmalade,” Amelia says, exasperation in her tone and hands on her hips. “I was only gone for an hour.” She looks at me. “The cat made this mess. I promise it isn’t always like this.”
“I live with four brothers. Your house is immaculate compared to mine.”
She blinks up at me, clearly surprised and debating whether to ask why I’m living with my brothers. I’m not overstepping orover sharing again, so I take the opportunity to look around her house some more.
I glance toward a hallway leading off to the side, past the living room, but Amelia grabs my hand and takes me straight back through the kitchen and around the corner into a spacious and bright sunroom.
