Page 89 of Lavender and Linebackers

“Stop laughing at me.” I throw a sweatshirt at him, and he twists to avoid it.

“Can’t. You’re cute.”

“I’ll show you cute.” I get up off the floor, shove past him, and walk out of the closet.

“Don’t be like that,” he teases. “I like finding you playing dress up in my clothes.”

Cheese and crackers, I totally forgot I was wearing his clothes. I’m in a long-sleeved Tarpons T-shirt, a pair of gray sweatpants, I have a black winter scarf draped around my neck, and I’m in some teal dress socks.

At this point, I just own it. “What do you think? Is it my look?” I strike a flirtatious pose.

Felix, having decided that the drama is over, makes his way to greet Ryder and rubs up against his leg.

“I think everything is your look.” He moves so his hands are on my hips. “You could make a brown paper bag look good.” He bends down and sweetly kisses me.

I know one day I will get used to being kissed by him, but today is not that day. Excited adrenaline tingles race across my skin.

“I’m taking it you’ve made your way through the house?”

“I did.” I step closer to him and slide my hands up to his chest. He’s a little dirty and smells like he’s spent hours outside, which I guess he has, but I don’t mind. He could show up covered in mud, and I’d still want to touch him.

“And?” He pops one brow.

“I love it so much.”

Relief. Pride. Love. All of these things come shining through the sweep of emotions on his handsome face.

“What do you love the most?” His hands slide around to my butt. He tucks them inside the sweatpants where he delightedly finds me not wearing any underwear, and he pulls me against him. I arch my back to see him.

“The back patio. But I will be picking us out a new furniture set. I need to be able to stretch my feet out in front of me when I’m reading.”

“Whatever you want.” He smiles as if I’ve just told him this week’s winning lottery numbers.

“You bought me lavender plants.” My hands slide higher, and when he lowers his head a little, my fingers get lost in his hair.

“I did.”

“When?”

He looks a little sheepish. “June.”

My eyes light up. “Ryder!”

“I know,” he whines. “And trust me, at the time I was kicking my own ass, but I was at the outdoor store looking at grills, and there was a pallet of them, and I couldn’t stop myself.”

“You do like the way they smell.”

He drops his head so that his face is tucked against my neck. I showered again to wash and dry my hair, and of course I brought scented lotion.

“I like the way you smell.” He breathes in deep.

“And how do I smell?”

“Like home.”

Chapter 30

Ryder