“Wow, never seen you so eager to leave,” Dr. Ramirez comments as she finishes up some digital filing.
“Have a hot date with your husband?” Kylie asks with a smirk.
Husband. My stomach dips. Because, yeah, I do. But I brush off her comment with a simple, “See you all Monday!” and head out the door.
I’ve dated plenty of men in my life. Nothing serious, but certainly a good number. And none have ever had me feeling like this. Giddy as I practically sprint across the ranch, knowing Theo is waiting for me on the other side.
Like holy shit, is this what people normally feel when dating? Is this what it’ssupposedto feel like?
Sure, I’ve never let any of my previous relationships move past the initial attraction stage. My longest lasted probably amonth. Something about the seriousness always scared me off. Better to say goodbye early—when it wouldn’t hurt.
So maybe I just never well and truly liked someone before now.
Because I certainly like Theo. I’ve liked Theo for years. Only now, I find him attractive. Maybe that was the secret all along.
When he eventually comes into view around the corner—tall, leaning against his truck, cowboy hat dipped low to shade his face from the lowering sun—my heartrate kicks up a notch. And when he sees me, it races double-time.
His face breaks out into that smile that could melt the icecaps, and he doesn’t wait for me to reach the truck—he’s coming to me.
I expect a hug, but instead he scoops me up into his arms princess-style, peppering my cheek with kisses, and I giggle.
“Theo!” I chide, glancing around. “What if people see?”
“We’remarried,” he murmurs against my ear, and my stomach dips. The statement is both comforting and terrifying and true yet not.
But I don’t have time to dwell on it as Theo carries me back to his truck, depositing me down in front of the passenger side and opening the door. I shoot him a shy smile before getting in. He jogs around the front of the truck, hopping in and starting the car.
“How was your day?” I ask.
“Terrible,” he responds, and before I have time to question him, he adds, “Missed you.”
I snort, even as I feel a surge of something warm and fuzzy in my chest. “That’s disgusting.”
“Not as disgusting as what I’m going to do to you later tonight.”
I bite back a gasp. Who knew sweet, gentlemanly Theo Strickland had such a mouth on him? Well, I certainly know after this week.
Theo pulls the car out onto the road and then reaches his hand out for mine, clasping it over the center console. My heart skips a beat. “Speaking of tonight, are you sure you’re okay with this?” he asks, glancing at me sideways. “I know it’s a bit weird considering …”
I shake my head. “I don’t mind at all, I promise,” I tell him. His mom had texted yesterday practically demanding that the two of us go over to his parents’ house for dinner tonight. She said it’d been way too long since she’d had him over and that she’d love for me to come too.
And while Theo is right—it might be a bit weird to meet the parents of the man you just started sleeping with a week ago—nothing about our situation has been normal. And besides, I really did like meeting his mom last weekend.
We stop at the house briefly to change and freshen up. And while Theo suggests showering together to “save time,” I simply giggle and promise to make it up to him later.
“You better make good on that promise, darling,” Theo drawls as I exit the bathroom, changed and ready to go. He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me against him to plant a kiss to my forehead—something that has strangely become the most arousing gesture ever—before we head down the stairs and out the door.
When we arrive at Theo’s parents’ house, we aren’t even fully out of the car before Trisha Strickland has opened the front door, an apron tied around her waist, waving us in.
“They’re here!” she exclaims over her shoulder, presumably to Theo’s dad.
Suddenly I have butterflies in my stomach, but as Theo’s fingers brush against mine, they calm just a bit.
Trisha rushes down the steps of the old farmhouse. “Cora, sweetheart, you look gorgeous. Come here.”
Her hug is warm and tight and unexpectedly emotional. Something inside me squeezes—something that remembers being hugged by a mother, bymymother, and hasn’t felt that in far too long.
When she pulls back, she grips both my arms lightly. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
