“It’s not vintage but…”
My chest warmed at his thoughtfulness. “It’s perfect. Thank you,” I said, kissing the smile on his lips.
I’d mentioned it months ago; how much I’d always wanted one. It was something silly I said in passing. I couldn’t believe he remembered. I opened the box, slid the film in place, and snapped a quick test shot before lifting the camera to take a photo of him. I waited for the image to slowly develop, smiling when his handsome face finally came into view.
“My turn,” he said, taking the camera and snapping several photos before tossing them onto the bed to develop. Then he lay down next to me and took a selfie. He handed it to me, setting the camera aside.
With our heads tilted together, we watched the image slowly come to life, and a gentle warmth spread through my chest. We looked good together.
Perfect, even.
“So, what are we doing for the next three days?” I asked.
“You mean besides me fucking you on every surface in this cabin?”
“We’ve already done that countless times,” I reminded him with a laugh.
“True, but I have some fresh ideas,” he said, nuzzling my neck. “I thought we could do a little fishing, and there’s also a place in town I like to go to eat when I come up here alone. The food is fucking phenomenal. I want to take you there.”
My easygoing mood shifted instantly. “You know we can’t go out in public.”
“Babe, we’re in the middle of nowhere, miles from D.C. No one will know us or care who we are. I want to take you out. Like a normal couple. On a date.”
Couple?
Date?
My adrenaline spiked as my paranoia took hold. “We can’t. If we get caught together, it could cost us both our jobs.”
He clenched his jaw, shoulders tense. “And what if I don’t care about my job anymore?”
I gaped at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you care.”
“I’m tired of hiding our relationship.”
“Benson,” I pleaded.
His blue eyes softened. “I want you. I want us. And if that means I have to quit to have you, I will.”
I shook my head, swallowing hard. “You can’t do that.”
He dropped my hand. “It’s not your decision,” he replied sternly.
“You’re not thinking clearly right now. You’ve worked too hard to get here. So have I, and we can’t just throw it all away for…”
“For what? For love?”
Hot tears stung my eyes. “You don’t mean that.”
He brought my hand to his lips, kissing my palm, then my wrist. “I’m sick of waking up every morning stressing about whether I’ll get to see you or not. I want you to meet my family. I want to take you out on a fucking date without worrying about being seen or jeopardizing our jobs. I want to be with you. And I will do whatever it takes to make that happen.”
He reached beneath the pillow, pulled out a black box, and placed it in my open hand.
My breath hitched. “Wha-what is this?”
His lips twitched with amusement. “What do you think it is?”
I shook my head as tears burned my eyes.
