“Yeah, you are,” she promised on a whisper, shoving closer.
He kept grinning as well as talking.“We give tomorrow toCarlyle, but even if shit is not sorted, we get Sunday morning just for us.Inthis bed.You and me.Work for you?”
“Totes,” she replied.
He felt his body move with laughter even if it wasn’taudible, except for the shake in the one word he said.
“Totes?”
She smiled at him.
He couldn’t get lost in her cute.
They had to get a move on.
“Another deal,” he continued.“You get the bathroom firstand I’ll make coffee.”
Her smile died and she said, “Okay, but before we hit it, wetalk.”
They’d been talking.
“We are talking.”
“A different kind of talk,” she said.
“About what?”he asked.
She wet her lips, pressed them together and rubbed.
This did not give him good thoughts.
“About what, Georgie?”he pushed.
“About you,” she said softly.
He tensed.
It came soft again when she said, “Please.”
“What about me?”
“You know, Dutch.”
And he did know.
He also knew she gave him Carolyn.
She gave him history about her mom, her dad, her roommate,her cat, her condo purchase, her job.
Open.Honest.Out there.
This was happening with them.
And she was asking for this.
What was happening between them was a lot.
He had to give her this.
