“Thank you,” I whisper. That he cares enough to want to make sure I eat fills me with a warm fuzzy feeling and my heart feels full. Unable to speak around the lump in my throat, I go through to the back room. He follows me, and as I start the coffee machine he stands behind, snaking his arms around my waist and nuzzling into my neck.
“Mmm, you smell nice,” he breathes.
“Just my usual shower gel,” I croak, trying to sound unaffected by his actions and words, and failing.
He breathes me in again. “You’re all earthy like a forest after the rain.” He mouths the words against my neck and I shiver slightly and lean into him.
“Damn. I should’ve asked before mauling you,” he says and goes to release his arms, but I hold him in place.
“I like it.”
“Good, because I’m a really tactile guy and I won’t be able to keep my hands off you. But if it becomes a problem, just let me know.”
“It’s definitely not a problem, I love it.” I remember the sorry state of the knitted heart. “Is that why the heart is so worn?”
“It’s my little slice of you.”
“Is that what you thought of it? As a piece of me?” I think of him over the years, worrying the heart with me in his mind.
“It’s much better to hold the real thing.”
I have no defense against that. I twist in his arms to face him and kiss him deeply. I’m falling hard for him and I don’t care.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Reece
I knock on Holden’s door a little after seven on Friday. His house is in a neat row of small town houses that look newly built. He opens the door and I catch my breath.
“Hi, handsome,” I say, watching his eyes light up making the urge to kiss him almost impossible to resist. But I do, as we’re standing on his doorstep and I’m not sure he’d welcome a display like that in front of his neighbors.
He’s wearing jeans and a soft button-down along with his customary sweater vest. I’m not sure it has a pattern or a picture, it’s more of a vibe. One that’s totally Holden. It starts out blue-gray, morphing into dark green, and finally into brown at the waist.
“Did you make this?” I point to his chest, only a hair’s width from touching him.
“Yes,” he says quietly as if suddenly shy. As far as I know he’s always worn his knitwear creations proudly. It’s one of thethings I admire most about him. So his uncertainty is puzzling. “Do you like it?” he continues. He doesn’t need my opinion to wear what he likes, and that he’s asked confuses me even more.
“I do, very much so. It suits you.”
“Well, you mentioned a forest after it had rained.” I did, and the need to step in close and catch his scent again nearly overwhelms me.
“This—” I do touch his chest this time. “Captures it perfectly.” A thought occurs to me. “Did you make this since I last saw you?”
“Yes.” If he says anything else it’s lost as I move forward into his space, making him take a step backward into his house. I follow and nudge the door shut behind me; I don’t want his neighbors to see what I’m going to do. I push him against the wall of his hallway, bracketing him with my arms.
“You created this just from a comment I made?”
“Yes.”
I kiss him softly, tasting his lips and his tongue.
“And you made it in just two days?”
“Yes.”
“You’re fucking amazing.” This time I kiss him harder and deeper. That he would take my words and turn them into something beautiful is so incredibly sexy. I almost forget my rule to take things slowly, especially when he grabs my hips and grinds into me. I feel his dick hard against mine and my memory flits back to the motel room. Has it only been a few days? It feels like forever. I know he didn’t make it for me, but he made it because of me, and no one has done anything like that before.Something shifts in my core, like a puzzle piece of my soul clicking into place. I want to hold on to him and never let him go. I only stop kissing him because I need to breathe, and he tips his head back against the wall panting slightly. It’s a beautiful sight, and I start to kiss his jaw when I hear a low rumbling sound.
“Did you spend so much time knitting it that you didn’t eat?”
