Page 88 of The Heiress's First Date

Preparing for the worst is kind of my business.

“Talk to me, Katie Bird. I want to know all your thoughts, even your fears. Especially your fears.” I can’t fight her demons if I don’t see them.

“I want to come back next year. And every year after that. But I’m terrified that this is all too fast and that I’m going to wake up tomorrow and you guys will have scattered to the winds. Then I’ll be alone with my plants, crying into my caramel ice cream.”

The words are so heartfelt.

Earnest and endearing.

While I hate that she has doubts, I understand them. What we’ve started is far outside of her norm. And even though feelings are involved, it’s easy to see that she’d want, even need, to protect herself. Her heart. Her future.

And since her needs and future have always been tied to her mother, grandfather, and the family company, this must all be so new to her.

Standing on her own feet, away from them.

Finally having the opportunity to see who she is and what she wants.

Which is great for her and scary for me.

A breeze cuts through our picnic. It smells like rain and freshly cut grass. Katherine’s hair whips around her face, turning the normally put-together woman into a wild sprite.

I reach out, tucking her hair behind her ear again. She leans into my touch, so familiar and at ease, even though I can see the turbulence beneath her calm exterior.

“I get it.”

Her jaw drops, and her lips part in a tiny O.

“This has all been unexpected. Amazing, but unconventional.” I keep my voice low, for her ears only. “The best week of my life, by a mile. But I get that it’ll take time. Relationships aren’t built overnight.”

“You’re right.”

She licks her lips again, and damn, do I want to kiss her. To show her how I feel. I’m better at that. Words aren’t my strong suit, but for her, I’ll find the right ones.

“I’m not proposing we slow down. But what if we trust the process?”

Her smile lights me up inside, and I can’t help but return it. She presses a quick kiss against my palm and then nestles her cheek back into my hand.

She’s an incredible combination of fierce resolve and graceful acceptance.

Determined to stop her mother from ruining Gabe and independent enough to step out from the shadow of the Chanlers, no matter how tentatively. Except, she’s not tentative, is she? When she’d had enough, she broke free with a swift stroke of a metaphorical knife.

“I don’t know what this looks like going forward. I don’t have a tidy label. But you’ve brought out a side of Gabe I’ve never seen before. You’re this amazing glue I didn’t know we needed.”

Do I tell her how I’d moved in with him under the guise of looking for a new place but secretly because I was worried about him. He’s been a different man this week.

“Because of you, he’s finally sleeping. He’s probably slept more this week than he did all last month.”

Her lips twist and then settle into a slight smirk. “Of course you’re more worried about him than yourself. Always the protector.”

She reaches up, curling a hand over my forearm and rubbing back and forth, sending that unconscious jolt of awareness up my limb and through my nervous system.

“I love that about you,” she murmurs.

My gut churns.

Such a telling statement. This woman appreciates being protected, which begs the question, why didn’t anyone protect her as she was growing up? I’m sure she had a body man, but emotional protection is far different.

Her phone chirps, but she doesn’t move. I see the glimmer of happiness shoot through her expression. It must be a custom tone because nobody could be that excited about texts. Whoever is messaging her, she likes them and welcomes the contact.

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