Because I’ve been wrong before.
Deadly wrong.
“Hey,” his voice breaks through my thoughts. I look up to find him leaning against the doorway, drying his hands on a towel. “You okay? You’ve gone quiet.”
I shrug, smiling softly. “Just… thinking.”
He grins, cautiously crossing the room to sit beside me. The couch dips under his weight, and I feel the shift of air, the nearness of him. “About what?”
“Nothing in particular.”
His head drops, as if he’s disappointed. Why?
“What’s wrong?”
“I just…” He considers his words for a second, eyes on the fire. “It feels so good having you here.”
My breath catches before I can stop it. “Dave…”
“I know,” he interrupts, glancing over at me, the corner of his mouth twitching with something between a smile and surrender. “It’s just dinner.”
But it doesn’t feel likejust dinner.
It feels like the start of something I’m not sure I’m able to consider. How can I have a healthy relationship, the kind Matt and Ellie share, with someone who doesn’t understand my history? Itwouldn’t be fair to bring this into a relationship. I mean, who the hell would want this?
The fire pops, scattering sparks behind the mesh screen.
I tuck my legs up beneath me, watching him in the flicker of the light, not knowing what to say.
And somewhere beneath all the noise in my head, all of the warnings, the what-ifs, and the urge to run, I can’t ignore the truth creeping in, quiet and insistent.
I like him.A lot.
And what’s more, I trust him.
I don’t know who moves first. Maybe it’s him. Maybe it’s me. Maybe it’s both of us, finally giving in to something that’s been simmering from the moment our eyes met all of those months ago.
One second, I’m sitting by the fire, watching the way the flames shimmer in his big brown eyes. The next, his hand is at my waist, and my pulse is racing so fast I can’t breathe.
He hesitates long enough for me to see the question in his eyes. And that’s all it takes. My fingers curl into the front of his shirt, and I pull him to me.Whatever careful distance we’ve kept between us shatters.
The kiss starts soft, searching, but turns hungry in an instant. All the confusion, the restraint, the second-guessing is gone. It’s like we’ve both been holding our breath for weeks and finally remembered how to breathe.
He whispers my name against my mouth like a plea. It’s more than the raw passion of the first time. It’s reverent, affectionate, and endearing. Because in this moment, I don’t feel like someone who’s hiding. I feel wanted.
Safe.
The next few moments blur. The feel of his hands as they carefully skim down my arms, the warmth of his breath as it trails down the hollow of my throat. The very way he looks at me like I’m not broken.
And just like that, this man has been able to shut out the riot of fear from the world outside. “I don’t want to push for more thanyou’re ready for. I’m so thankful to have you here,” he whispers against the shell of my ear. “I never dared think things would become physical tonight. Not beyond the hope of a goodnight kiss.” He drops his lips on my temple, pulling me tight against him. He’s so warm and strong. So hard.Everywhere.
But the most attractive thing about this incredible man is how secure he makes me feel.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
DAVE
As we enter my bedroom,it isn’t lost on me the scale is over the top. I don’t make eye contact with her but can only imagine what she’s thinking. This room is enormous and has glass walls similar to that in the great room that overlook the tree-lined incline below. There are no drapes to obscure the view of the glistening snow-covered mountainside or night sky, but why would I need them?
