I feel that bloom of hope I’ve been feeling take root, become tangible. It feels warm and all-consuming. Kind of like the way I feel about her. The beautiful woman standing in my kitchen cooking me dinner after a long day. This is what I dreamed of. This exact thing right here. It may not be perfect, and she may not be mine, but I’ve decided it’s not over till you say it’s over.
“It smells incredible, so I’m sure it will be perfect,” I say, setting my hat on the counter and emptying my pockets. “Thanks for making my day a little bit easier. Is there anything around the house you need help with?”
“Not that I can think of, you can go clean up, and I’ll have dinner ready when you’re done.”
I stare at her for a long while. She gazes back, and I feel like I’m memorizing her all over again. The slope of her nose. Freckles that line the apples of her cheeks, which are more prominent now that it’s summer and she’s been in the sun. The way her hair sits messily on the top of her head, a few tendrils framing her stunning face. I’m so hopelessly in love with her. It’s almost painful.
She’s the first one to look away, and I glance down at my work boots. Quickly, I take them off and head up to my shower, but not before catching another glance of Willow. She’s turned back to the stove now, giving me a perfect view of that tight little ass of hers. My heart isn’t the only part of me that misses her. Just one glance of her like this has me going crazy. My fingers itch to touch her. To come behind her while she’s cooking on the stove, circle her in my arms, and brush my fingertips against her bare stomach as I reach around. My lips would kiss down on the curve of her neck, and she would whimper, making my cock harden.
I quickly shake my head, letting go of that image before I have a whole other problem to deal with.
My fork scrapes against the plate as I bring a bite of food to my mouth. She was downplaying how good she was at cooking. This meal is incredible.
“Not only did she get the order wrong. Instead of commenting in our side chat, she accidentally sent it in our meeting chat, where the boss caught her talking shit. Which was all very accurate and totally justified, but that was her last day as the office assistant.” Her body shakes with laughter as she brings a glass of wine to her lips. Her cheeks are flushed from the alcohol and her lips are stained the perfect shade of red from her wine.
“I really think you should be able to complain or even give direct feedback to your boss without getting fired. I can’t tell you how many times I told my pops he was being a jackass. He never fired me, but I did have to shuck cow shit out of stalls for a month straight.”
She wrinkles her nose up in disgust, and it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.God fucking I’m pathetic.
I literally can’t look at this girl without daydreaming and getting lost in the thoughts of her. I’m supposed to be a man’s man. But when it comes to her, I just want to be her man.
Finishing my dinner, I wipe off my mouth with my napkin and throw it onto the plate.
Willow gets up and reaches over to take my plate. “Here, let me take your plate to the sink.”
“Nope,” I bat her away and shake my head, “you cooked dinner, I got cleanup duty. If you’re not too tired, we could watch a movie or a TV show.”
She nods her head, yes, before replying, “That sounds nice.”
“Great, well if you want to pick something to watch, I’ll clean up and do the dishes, and I’ll meet you on the couch.”
She hops off to the living room; her shoulders seem lighter, and she has a pep in her step. This version of Willow was exactly how I remember her, just a little bit more grown-up and a hell of a lotmore mature. She has a lightness to her that was missing when she first got here. I knew it was still in there somewhere. I could see it in her eyes, but I think there’s something about New York that is weighing her down. Something about the past, maybe? That’s something I can relate to.
When I sit down next to her on the couch, I leave enough space not to be touching, but not so far away that I can’t subtly slide my arm across the back of the couch, you know, for comfort. Not because I’m a pathetic thirty-one-year-old man too scared to tell the woman living in his house that he still loves her, so he’ll slowly convince her that he does with his actions.
“What are we watching?” I ask as I set my feet up on the ottoman.
“50 first dates.” She looks over to me with a touch of glee in her gaze.
“Good pick,” I say as I snag the blanket from the back of the couch and throw it over our legs.
We get more comfortable on the couch, and the urge to touch her and be closer becomes overwhelming. I dare to slide my arm across the back of the couch, my fingertips just barely touch her shoulder, her silky strands intermingle with my fingers.
She leans in, ever so slightly, but I feel her warmth seep into me. “This is my favorite part.” I turn to look at her, more enraptured by her than by the movie.
I turn my head just in time to see Drew Barrymore beat the crap out of Rob Schneider’s character. Willow throws her head back in laughter, and I can't help but join her. “Okay, this might be my favorite, too.”
She looks over to me, her eyes bright from the laughter. “You have to pick your own favorite scene. This one is mine.” She winks andsnuggles in a little closer, her head resting on my shoulder. “Is this okay? If you want space–”
“It’s fine, Sunshine. Get comfy.” Space is the last thing I want from her. I want her skin on mine. But this, this will do.
Her hand lands on my torso, and I, a grown man, feel fucking butterflies. It feels like we’re kids again, dancing around wanting to be more, but not really knowing how. My hand rests on her waist as she sinks in further.
Within a few minutes, her breathing levels out, and when I look down, her eyes are closed, and she’s completely relaxed. Fuck me. This is what I want, every single night. Her asleep in my arms.
I haven’t felt this at peace in years. When I close my eyes, savoring the moment, it becomes harder and harder to try and open them, so I don’t. I sink into a deep sleep. Hopefully, my dreams are full of her, too.
Chapter 23
