It’s really damn good.
I don’t know if it’s because I just had amazing sex, if it’s because I worked through my lunch and am starving, or if it’s really just that good. I have a feeling it’s a combination of all three, but I don’t say that.
“Wow,” I say. “This is great.”
Lola-Mae laughs softly. “It’s warm, and I had all the ingredients. I’m glad you don’t hate it.”
Even if I did, I would never actually tell her that, but I don’t. It’s comforting and good—something I wasn’t expecting.
“I don’t hate it.” I take another bite.
We eat together, chatting about little things. But the entire time, all I can do is think about how I’m going to tell her just how goddamn boring I am. I wonder if she’s going to want that boring life with me or if this is done before it even began.
Chapter Twelve
HARLAN
I helpLola-Mae clean up dinner, and when we’re finished, a silence falls over the room, over the house.
It’s uneasy.
She shifts from foot to foot, her gaze flicking from mine to the door and then repeating a few times. I can tell she’s about to excuse herself to go home, but I don’t want her to. I want her in my bed.
“I’m not smooth,” I blurt out.
She blinks. “Smooth?” she asks when I don’t continue.
“With my words,” I begin. “I haven’t dated a lot, and honestly, I’m a homebody. I don’t like going out. I like being here on my land with my animals.”
The silence that stretches out between us is almost deafening. I am seconds away from just standing up and walking upstairs. But I’ve unloaded a lot in a short amount of time, although I haven’t unloaded as much as I could. She still doesn’t know why I live here alone, why I’m the only one running this ranch.
“That makes two of us,” she says. “I had to ask my friend back home what I should do after I found the second note. She’s the one who suggested I throw myself at you.”
“Is that what that was?” I ask. “You throwing yourself at me?”
A laugh bubbles up from her throat, and I can’t help but follow her with my own. Because I know that’s not what she was doing, at least not as obviously as that. I still want to hear it from her. Maybe it’s to feed my own ego, maybe it’s because I need to hear the words for them to be true. Either way, I wait.
“Well, not really,” she says. “Then again, maybe in my own way. I don’t know how to be a sexy siren, so I thought I would cook for you.”
I close the distance between us, then lift one of my hands and curl my fingers around the side of her throat. Then I wrap my other arm around her waist and bring her close to me.
There’s something almost healing about feeling her body pressed against mine. I want more.
So much more.
“I’m glad you did,” I murmur. “I’m not sure when I would have gotten my shit together enough to make the first move. Thank you for making the first nonmove.”
She smiles as I bend my head and touch my mouth to hers. “Are we doing this?” she asks against my lips.
“We’re doing this, darlin’.”
Before I can say anything else, a crack of thunder causes every muscle in her entire body to tighten. I almost laugh, but my mouth is touching hers, and right now, the last thing I feel is humor.
Slipping my tongue inside her, I tangle it with her own until we’re breathless. I reach down and grip the backs of her thighs, picking her up before I carry her to my bedroom. I don’t know if this is the next step or if I’m rushing things, but I also don’t care.
I want her again.
Maybe even need her.
