Page 67 of Straight Shooter

Heat scorched her face and she racked her brain trying to remember every detail of what had happened after he bundled her in his rental car at the hospital. “What else did I say?”

“Nothing.” His lips firmed nonchalantly. “Why are you nervous?”

She drew her head back. “Rhett Callahan, tell me right now.”

His deep chuckle reverberated around the room. He hugged her closer to his chest, which did nothing to cool her flaming cheeks.

“I tucked you into bed—and no, we didn’t have sex, even though it killed me to cuddle with you half naked all night.” His hand slipped down her bare skin and goosebumps erupted over her flesh.

She shoved his side. “Tell me.”

“You kissed my cheek and told me you wanted to go home . . . with me.” His dark-gray eyes swung to her, their color rivaling that of the storm they’d ridden together only nights before.

A ball of nervousness rolled around in her belly. Lord, she’d never take pain meds again if they made her say stupid things.

It’s not stupid. It’s what I want . . .

The words came from the deepest depths of her heart. Rhett’s fingers caught a strand of her hair and moved it behind her ear. “Is that what you want, Priss? To move in with me?”

She drew in a huge breath and shifted her gaze to the turquoise sheet on his chest. She wanted him more than anything, but did she deserve him? He was a fed for god’s sake. She couldn’t even entertain the thought of him wanting to be with her—a criminal.

He grazed her jaw with his thumb. The gesture was so gentle, intimate. She tangled her fingers in his and brought their joined hands to his chest. Yesterday, she’d sworn to god that if she made it out alive, she’d take the chance at happiness: she’d change, she’d make things work with someone, and she’d love.

He didn’t move. His serenity, the compassionate way he didn’t press her, filled her with even more certainty. She lifted her lashes and met his stare. His eyebrows hung low over his gray irises, waiting.

She wet her lips. “Yes. That’s what I want. If it’s not too soon . . .” She grimaced, and shyness tugged at her mouth. God, who was she kidding? She’d been with him only three days.

His laugh kicked a hole in her gut. “Under normal circumstances, I’d probably run for the hills at the thought of moving in with someone after less than a week.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “But this is different. You’re different. Hell, I’ve witnessed more sides of you in the last seventy-two hours than I have with a girlfriend of six months. I’d say we’re right on track.”

Her heart swelled behind her ribs, and she circled her arm around him. He kissed the crook of her neck and his whiskers tickled her. “Okay, since I don’t lie, I have to confess something.” The somberness of his voice made her pull back a few inches.

He settled her weight on his chest so she was lying on top of him. Resting her injured hand on his shoulder and her other hand on his cheek, she narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

Mischief danced across his face. He nipped her chin with his teeth. “You didn’t say that last night.”

“What?” Indignation flared through her.

He caught her hand when she went to pinch him. “I’m sorry! Geez. Hear me out.”

“Go,” she said on a growl.

“I just want to be near you, Priss. All the time. I don’t know what the hell that means yet, or where it’ll go, but it feels right.” His hands moved to her lower back and warmed the skin there. “I didn’t know how to bring it up. Honestly, I didn’t think you were that messed up from the drugs. I thought you would’ve called me on my bullshit.”

She pursed her lips. “Why did you lie?”

His smile faded, and he squeezed her naked ass cheek before dragging his hands up to cup either side of her face. “Because I wanted to ask you to move in with me but was scared you’d think I was crazy.”

She wriggled tighter against his chest. “Maybe we’re both crazy.”

“I’m okay with that if it means I get to do this.” His mouth dragged to her cheek. Her back arched, and she sighed as his hands roamed over her backside. “I want you, but I don’t want to hurt you.” He lifted her injured hand and kissed her knuckles and then the splint.

His lips were soft and warm. She caught his jaw in her palm. Tears tickled her eyes. Very few people in her life had shown her love and affection—her adoptive parents had, but something had always been missing. Dani had too, but it wasn’t the same. With Rhett, there was no limit to the intimacy he lavished on her. Hell, her longest boyfriend had lasted a year, and the connection between Rhett and her blew what she’d had with Dylan out of the water.

Rhett’s the real deal.

He kissed her palm, and the skin around his eyes crinkled into soft lines that only accentuated how handsome he was. Butterflies beat against her ribcage.

“Thank you,” she said.