And I do.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Reece
The last couple of days have been fun but at the same time difficult. I wasn’t lying to Holden when I said I’d miss him. I’m glad I’ve been out of the state, or I wouldn't have been able to keep away from him. Going with Marina and mom on a trip to Tennessee has been good to keep me occupied, but my mind—and if I’m honest, my heart—have been back in Gomillion. I also meant it when I said we’ll be great together, I just hope he can see his own worth, but if not, I’m ready to convince him. I’ve also been tentatively planning for the long term. I’m not going to give up Holden now that I’ve found him, and while I don’t love the thought of relocating back to the US, I have been thinking about some possibilities. At some point I need to talk to Nolan, and I don’t think there’d be a huge problem making some changes, but I need to talk to Holden first. However, we aren’t there yet despite what my heart tells me, so I’m trying to be patient.
I get back on Monday, and thankfully I’m tired from all the walking we’ve been doing, so I sleep well. But I’m on edgethroughout Tuesday. I’m not nervous about the date as such, but worried about how Holden is. We’ve texted each other, but they’ve been brief, and I couldn’t tell a lot from them. I know Clara’s been with him, which I like as she’s a great friend, but she’s also not my biggest supporter so I’m extra cautious as I knock on his door clutching a large bunch of flowers.
“Hi,” he says, looking slightly apprehensive.
“Hey, gorgeous,” I say and he relaxes. A smile breaks out on his face and I know everything’s going to be okay.
“These are for you.” I hand him the flowers and he steps back to let me enter. He looks delicious in black linen pants and a gray-blue T-shirt. His feet are bare. I toe my shoes off and follow him into the kitchen. He finds a vase for the flowers and arranges them.
“Thank you, they’re pretty.”
“Not nearly as pretty as you. I’ve missed you so much,” I say, and his smile is all the permission I need. I cup his jaw and brush my thumb over his lips. I feel him shiver at my caress and I want to see what else my touch can do to him.
“I’ve missed you too,” he says and leans in to kiss me. The effect is electric, and my head feels light as all my blood rushes south. I’m done going slow, waiting to figure out if this is about us. I know it is. Like a plant needs the rain after a drought, my body needs him.
He slides his hand down to my ass and pulls me into him, and I can feel his hardness against my own erection. He wants this as much as I do, and that makes my blood pound in my ears.
“Fuck, Holden, you’re so hot,” I groan, and the delighted giggle he gives just makes me harder, and I grind into him.
“Dinner first,” he says, and steps away leaving me bereft and needy. I adjust myself in my jeans, wishing that I’d worn some looser pants.
“That was cruel. Do you tease all your guests like that?”
“Only the ones I’m attracted to.”
I like Holden in all his guises, but I particularly enjoy the sassy version, partly because he always looks so happy and that fills me with joy.
“Well, because it smells so wonderful, I’ll obey. Can I do anything to help?”
“Can you grab a couple of beers out of the fridge?”
“You want a beer?” I’m surprised as he said he doesn't drink and I’ve seen the effects of alcohol on his system.
“I actually like beer, and one or two is fine. I just can’t drink wine or liquor.”
That’s good to know, though I wouldn’t have minded not drinking if it suited him.
I fetch a couple of bottles and Holden puts two glasses on the counter for me to pour.
“Please take a seat,” he says and I carry the beers to the table and sit.
The placemats are made of a sort of tough cotton depicting scenes of mountains, and I run my fingers over one of them, tracing the picture. They don’t feel woven, more knitted.
“Did you make these?” I call across the kitchen.
“I did a few years ago,” he replies.
“Have you ever considered selling what you make in your store or at a craft market?”
He looks thoughtful for a minute. “Not really. I’d never make a living from it, so what would be the point?”
“Not to replace your store, but so other people could enjoy your creations. Or if you were feeling particularly benevolent, you could sell some to fundraise for charities. It’s what my mom does with her quilts.”
