But when the man-brick—err,Cal—returned me to my seat, I was struck with an overwhelming shortage of warm, solid man beneath my buns, and the logic didn't feel too logical anymore.
However.
Aside from all that, I had a to-do list of epic proportions on my desk today and the draft next week, a genetically modified raccoon on the loose, and a man-brick growling all over me while he proposed marriage and promised an eternity of beaver protection.
"Stella," he rasped, and that was the sound of a rumbly, grumbly bear. He snaked one arm around the back of my chair while he dipped his head in search of my eyes. He brought his free hand to my leg, squeezing just above my knee.
Holy Hannah. Those…those were forearms. Thick, ropey, dusted with dark golden hair. For all his thickness, his fingers were long and—dare I say?—elegant. Yes, those were elegant man fingers. Nothing sausage plump here. I figured it made sense since those hands mended hearts. Actual human organs. They had to be elegant.
"I'm going to need a minute here." I pressed my hand to my breastbone, gulping down a breath. An hour after running right into me, Cal had succeeded in knocking the wind out of me. "I need—just give me a minute."
"Take two," he said. "Take two hundred. There's no rush. I'm not going anywhere."
"I'm sure you have places to be."
A warm laugh whispered over my ear. "Even if I wanted to leave right now, I don't think I should."
His hand came to my back, resting between my shoulder blades for a second before moving in slow, soothing circles meant to calm this percolating panic, but it only solidified the fact that I was developing feelings—feelings!—for a man after nothing more than an eye blink in time. But this wasn't feelings. This was adrenaline. Shock from the scare, the fall. None of this was real. Couldn't be.
This man had asked me to marry him and that wasn't even the crazy part. No, it was that, for one crazy minute out of all the crazy minutes in this crazy morning, it didn't feel crazy. My heart was burrowing straight out of my chest and into my throat, and there was a goddamn unicorn chasing butterflies around my stomach, and my head was full of fizzy bubbles like New Year's Eve, and for one tiny, tiny second in the middle of this crazy, I wanted him to mean it. To ask, to want me for always.
Now that wascrazy. I didn't want that. I didn't want any of that. I loved my life. I had everything I needed, everything I wanted. Cute, shy heart surgeons who kissed like that and made me feel like this were unnecessary.
Stella. No no no no. No. No, Stella.
"And it's not like I can walk out of here in this condition," he continued, the fine bristles of his chin scruff brushing against my neck and his thumb gliding over the tender spot behind my knee. He knew right where to find me at my most sensitive. "Or drive. Not without some, uh, rearrangement."
I stared at him for a beat before glancing down at the erection trapped under his track pants. "Jesus," I rasped.
"It's not a big deal, honey, but I prefer Cal," he replied.
"And you went there," I said, mostly to myself.
Cal shrugged. "That could apply to everything that's happened this morning."
"You went there and I can't decide whether to laugh or—I don't know." I lifted my wrist, squinting at the freckles there because I hadn't worn a watch since my iPhone became my most essential accessory. "Thank you. For everything. Especially with that raccoonasaurus, even if you think it was a beaver. You're wrong but I still owe you for that one."
"You don't," he replied, his fingers tight around my thigh. "You…you don't owe me anything, Stella."
I murmured in disagreement. I wasn't done with this man-brick. It didn't matter how many times I silently screamed at myself, I wasn't done. "Another coffee maybe? A muffin too. What kind of muffin do you like? No, wait. Let me guess." I stared at him as I tapped my index against my lips. "You're a corn muffin kind of guy, aren't you? Maybe corn and jalapeño? Or corn and blueberry? Oh, yeah. Corn and blueberry all the way. That's you."
"Tomorrow," he said, blowing right past my name-that-muffin trick. "I'll see you tomorrow, Stella."
"You're very direct," I said. "When you're not busy being shy."
"All I'm saying is the onlymuffinI want to bite is yours," he replied. "Forgive me if that's a bit forward."
With that idea planted in my mind, I stared at his mouth, my own lips pursed together as I forced air in and out. Legs pursed together too. I thought about kissing him again. I thought about sending a group text to Stephen, Leif, and Harry, ending our color-coded arrangements because their come-and-go companionship was no longer needed.
Stelllllla. No, dammit, no.
Wait. I didn't want to do that. No, I liked my lifejustthe way it was. I had good things going. I didn't need any of this. Early morning trail rescues and emotionally demanding scones and surgeons with cocks the size of cruise missiles weren't part of the plan.
There was an alarm bell pealing in the distance, urging me up, out of this coffee shop, into my car, away from this man, back to my chaos-but-I-love-it life. Because I controlled that shit. This? The man-brick and the raccoon and the feelings? Nope, I controlled none of this.
But I ignored the unpredictable, saying, "Okay, sure. Tomorrow. The trail, not the muffin." Nodding as I granted myself permission, I brought my hand to the back of his neck and tugged him closer.Stelllllllla."Would you—"
"Yes," he said, that single word at once a twisted plea and gracious sigh. His lips crashed over mine, and he dragged me right into the deep end with this kiss. It was heavy and desperate and I didn't think I'd ever come up for air again, but then he retreated only long enough to lift me onto his lap.Where I belonged. He didn't have to say it. I knew what he was thinking. The hand that was once fixed on my thigh was now tucked between my knees and squeezing hard enough to tell me that he wanted to slide it higher just as much as I did. Just a bit more.Come home, Cal. Come to me. Come for me.
