“A wedding? With a guy I’m dating? Isn’t that a big red flag no-no in the dating world?” I can’t imagine how Walker will react when I mention such a taboo thing to him.
“You know what Belle? This is your relationship.” Another strong word, but I don’t protest because she isn’t finished. “NotCosmoorTeen Beator whatever magazine you get your dating information from. Don’t treat it like it’s a big deal and it won’t be.”
Easy for her to say. Her plus one for the wedding is the guy who alreadywantsto spend his life with her.
“Belle,you’regoing to be there, andhe’sgoing to be there. Call it a carpool, and then spend the night dancing with this hot guy who wants you.” She grins. “And then carpool back to his place and ring his bell a few times. Maybe we can get you a white dress and something blue.”
Oh Lord. Here it is. The suggestion I need to be married. She’s made it before, but this time she’s actually picked out the guy whose little figurine will be standing next to mine on the imaginary cake in her mind.
And before I can dissuade her, my phone pings and Walker’s face flashes onto the screen. He’s sent anI want to see you latertext, and that’s all the proof Molly needs. “See? It’s a sign.”
And I want to believe her. But time will tell.
CHAPTERTWELVE
WALKER
It’s been a couple days since I saw Belle. Not because I don’t want to see her, but because I just took a contract to work on the city’s fleet of cars and she’s been showing houses day and evening. We haven’t found a single minute to be together.
I don’t know when this happened to me, or how, but not only have I not seen her, I haven’t seen anyone else, either. I’m not even tempted. And after hearing what happened to her, how she was hurt in the past, I’d never think of seeing anyone, whether we’re in a committed relationship–we haven’t talked about it–or not.
I think of her at the damnedest times. Morning. Noon. Night. Almost every minute in between. And I like it. Although I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t know how to take it.
Belle: What do you have in mind?
I’m sitting in the office at work, feet on the desk, dick semi-hard. It’s been too long since I’ve seen her, since I touched her face or kissed her lips. I want to wake up with her in the morning. Badly want it.
ME: Seeing you. Kissing you. Carrying you up to my bedroom. Stripping you out of your clothes, Kissing you anywhere you’ll let me and then all the places you won’t.
If my dick wasn’t hard before, it is now. And I don’t want her to think I’m just horny. I am horny, but I want to see her as much with clothes as without. Kind of. Anyway.
ME: Or dinner.
When it takes her a while to answer, I tap my foot, tap my phone and start typing.
ME: I just want to see you. Are you free now?
The dots blink at the bottom of my screen. She’s typing. Typing. Typing.
BELLE: Yes. I’m with a friend but…
ME: I’ll be there in ten.
ME: Where?
I picture her smile, her laugh. Hell, I’m the fool, and even I’m smiling.
The address comes through, and I smile. Thank God.
I’m a cocky bastard by nature, because I have benefited from my genetics, but this woman has me off center. I don’t have the foggiest idea how to make her want me past wanting me in the bedroom. It’s a strange phenomenon.
For a second, I consider using my dick in the bedroom to make her want me. It’s a dick move–literally and figuratively–and I shake it off.
I want to be a better man than the one I’ve been and I want to be better for her. Better than who she’s been with before and who I’ve been.
By the time I get in the truck to drive over, I’ve talked myself into being the kind of man who deserves a woman like Belle, then told myself I have too long a road to travel and she’ll never wait for me.
I know the street because it’s the one Hunter lives on, and I chuckle because wouldn’t it be a coincidence if his house is close to where her friend lives. The kind of coincidence that landed us at one of their block parties, invited separately but going together. A couple surprising our friends by being together.
