The quiet, simple wedding by the water as the sun set.
The quiet picnic overlooking the city.
The quiet care he continues to shower me with.
I could fall for this man. So, so easily.
As I stare into his eyes, I’m worried I’m already falling.
In four days, Devon has given me more care than I’ve received since Mom was alive.
“C’mon, it’s been a long day, I’m sure you’re hungry.” He urges me forward, steers me to the right, and waits until I lower myself to the blanket before moving to the other side and the bottle of wine. Holding up a glass, he raises a brow.
“Yes. Please.” My voice is hushed. An unconscious action on my part. “This looks amazing.”
“Here.” He holds out my glass, the golden liquid sparking in the moonlight. “We’ve got an assortment of finger foods.”
I watch as he opens container after container. Each one revealing a favorite I had no idea he knew I had.
“How did?—”
“I asked Livi and Lexi.” He smiles sheepishly. “They don’t know about the wedding. I just said I wanted to make sure I had what you liked at the house.”
I grin. “Sneaky.” I’m sure my friends are eager to find out what’s happening with me. Except they’ve done what true friends do. Given me the space I asked for.
“They’re ready when you are.”
How does he read me like that? “Are you reading my mind?”
“No. But I think we’ve gotten to know each other well over the last few days and you don’t hide your emotions. They’re in your eyes.”
“Ha. And to think most people call me cold.”
“Shields. Necessary barriers.” His gaze meets mine. “Until me.”
“Why am I so open with you?”
“I don’t want anything from you. Nothing you’re not willing to give, anyway.”
“So you do want something from me?”
“Yes. I want your honesty. Your time. Your friendship.”
“And sex. You want sex.”
“Any man with blood running in his veins would want sex with you, but you could not sleep with me, and I’d still want everything else.”
“So we’re friends with benefits?” I grin. I’ve never had one of those.
“No. We’re husband and wife.”
His voice is a graveled growl and sends a shudder of need through me. “Husband and wife,” I whisper.
There’s no hiding the way that makes me feel, and I know he sees it. He misses nothing. But then I’m not interested in hiding from him.
“Eat.” He holds out a cracker topped with a smear of cheese, a slice of cherry tomato perched like a crown.
“Are you going to feed me?”
